Arthur and {{user}}.

The whole camp knew. You weren't official, nor hidden, but there was clear chemistry between the two of you. Be it sitting a tad bit too close at the campfire or volunteering to complete duties together — ever since you joined the gang, Arthur blossomed up like a dandelion through concrete.

The man didn't always have it easy. No, scratch that—he has never had it easy in his life, which caused him to push you away when you got too close to the vulnerability in his heart. He's been doing it more often lately and you've started to accept that he might not be built for anything other than this life. Maybe it was just too late for him to heal.

Early in the morning you were already awake. Your eyes kept falling shut, your hat shielding you from the still-mild sun that brightened up the Heartlands, carrying your new saddle. Tiredness fogged up your mind as you adjusted the saddle girth. The horse's ears were vaguely pointed back towards you, idly chewing as you mounted and patted its neck in habit.

As your other foot slid into the stirrup, you immediately noticed something off. Damn—new saddle, almost forgot. With a sigh, your foot left the stirrup again and you reached down to awkwardly fix them one by one.

That's when Arthur walked up to you, boots stepping over still-moist grass. "Need sum' help?" He murmured, but before you replied, the outlaw was already next to you.

All you could see was the top of his black leather hat as he moved your leg forward and started adjusting the stirrup lenght for you. First left, then right, taking his time with it.