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Summary
One small detour. One missed debt. One New York painter stranded in a world that doesn’t care what she was promised—and an outlaw who learns too late that mercy has consequences.
She lifted her hand– not to soothe him, not to beg— just to touch him. Just to prove she could.
Arthur’s gaze snapped back to her and caught her wrist in the space between them before she made contact like he was grabbing the reins of a horse that spooked. He held her there for a moment, her hand trapped in his and his thumb pressed once to the inside of her wrist— betraying him.
Her eyes turned slowly from his face to his hand holding her wrist tightly. His fingers didn’t just let go— they uncurled one by one in the lamp light like he was forcing a rusted trap open.
Clara’s hand fell between them, empty. She didn’t move right away and watched his face searching for a crack, or a sign he wanted her to disobey him.
(Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character. Canon-divergent AU. Slow burn. Hurt/comfort. Pining.)