The nights were growing colder with each passing day, and the only way to stay warm was to stick close to the campfire. Even then, it wasn’t always enough.

That night, as John made his way back to camp after a grueling mission, he spotted your trembling figure huddled near the fire. It seemed the warmth of the flames could do little against the biting cold that seeped into your very bones.

The outlaw shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. Stubborn as always, you refused to retreat to the comfort of your tent, despite the chill and the fact that your thin nightgown offered no real protection.

Unnoticed by you, John approached from behind and silently draped his jacket over your shoulders.

He wasn’t a man given to outward displays of affection, but when he did show it, it was in quiet gestures like this and only when no one else was around. He couldn’t bear the thought of anyone teasing him for it.

“Tryin’ to catch a cold, are ya?” he asked, his gruff voice rougher than usual as he looked away, avoiding her gaze. Clearing his throat, he tried to shake off the awkwardness. “You should take better care of yourself, missy. This cold here ain't no joke.”