g h o s t i n {arthur morgan x fem reader oneshot}

g h o s t i n

A/n: if you came here for sad feelsies then you came to the right place!
Ps I wrote this on my phone last night so sorry for any spelling mistakes or weird typos.

**ALSO PLS BEWARE - This will contain spoilers for the game**

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Sunlight crept in through the dusty covered window panes, sending linear bars of light casting across the old shop floor.

It had been a fairly quiet morning in the surgery, the usual coming and goings of appointments and people requiring medications - but that was all. You bid your uncle farewell around 12 noon, as his consultations had ended for the moment and he would restart his clinic around 3pm later that afternoon.

The peaceful ambience of the ticking clock, creaking groans of the wood structure's settling movements and the soft chinking of pills clattering in the prescription bottles as you stacked the shelves filled your ears. These quiet few hours where you were left to man your Uncle's surgery were some of your favourites - it gave you time to think, time to relish in the smaller, yet still just as important jobs before patients started to hurry through the doors once more.

Back to the surgery door, your gentle voice hummed a song that had sat like a stuck record at the back of your mind for years. Like an old caged parakeet, still whistling away and reminding you of a life that was no more. A life that meant the world to you. Taught you to be the girl you were.

You busied yourself with the little tune whilst you stacked the correct medications and vials in their appropriate place upon the shelf - something your uncle found rather humorous was the fact you were very particular about all of the bottles and packets being lined up straight. You were a real perfectionist.

The door bell chimed in an upbeat fashion, indicating someone had arrived in at the surgery. You heard the slight scraping sound of the door scuffing the wooden floorboards, followed by a few heavy footsteps.

"Just a moment." Your voice called out, still paying heed to the last few bottles of tablets you had to pack onto the shelf. Silence fell once again, just momentarily - before your ears recollected to the sound of spurs jingling with each paced footstep.

"I was told I could find ya' here." A low drawl commented, and the tones struck a chord within you that immediately made your mind detract from your job, the surgery- your current quiet little life.

Cautiously, you had turned on your heels like you half expected to scare yourself with what you were about to see... or rather, who you were about to see.

Just the single second of a glance you landed on the figure, you affirmed with yourself who the man was stood before you.

This moment - or rather, daydreams, fantasies of this moment - had been a big part of your life for some time now. You often pictured minutes away imagining what it would be like to run into the man who had cast such a strong hold over you for a number of years of your younger life.

Arthur Morgan. Dutch Van Der Linde's right hand man and one of his most trusted allies. Five years ago you had ran with the Van Der Linde gang for about 3 years, acting as a little pick pocket here and there - earning your keep after fleeing an abusive home under the fiery wrath of your drunk father and psychotic paranoid mother.

Those had been dark times, unstable. You remembered clear as anything the moment you stumbled into Hosea Matthews and Dutch Van Der Linde in the middle of Valentine - a shaking mess and a clueless young girl. You'd been crying at the roadside and being the type of men they were, they weren't going to let some young girl starve to death or die at the hands of the bitter wilderness.