SILVER BULLET ⊳ arthur morgan x reader

━ xv

(Y/n)'s eyes widen in wonder when she sees city lights in the distance. It looks like the stars themselves have descended onto the earth — a rare sight, a sign of civilization, a sweet reminder of what once was. And yet, it's not that which he can't take his eyes off of — no, Arthur can't turn away from (y/n), not even if he wanted to. A smile graces her features, she looks like a child watching Saturday morning cartoons, and he feels tempted to open his diary right then and there and immortalize her in a sketch.

But he can't, so he dedicates every little detail to memory, with a promise to himself that it will all find its place on paper in a few hours if they're lucky.

He savors the momentary peace like it's rare and divine — because it is. When (y/n) speaks up, her voice is laced with a soft kind of delight he has never heard before.

"Woah. I can't remember how long it's been ever since I've seen...lights at night that weren't the stars." She whispers, props her hands on top of the glovebox to rise out of her seat and have a better look at the distant lake resort. She turns to look at Arthur, starts talking at a much quicker pace. "Even the quarantine zones, most power plants had just stopped working after the epidemic, because no-one bothered to bring them back in working order. I've only heard about a few ones that had actual electricity at night—" (Y/n) cuts herself off and huffs, perhaps with the realization that she'd started to ramble. When she tucks a strand of hair away from her face, is when Arthur finally looks away. "I guess I ... never realized just how pretty they were until now."

Arthur can't quite think of what to say, he finds she's expressed whatever it is that he's feeling well enough. Besides, there's no point in ruining the wonderful atmosphere she's created with some worthless input of his.

"Cat got your tongue?" (Y/n) says after a few seconds of silence, Arthur swallows. "Or do you see stuff like this every other day?"

"Nah, I'm just..." He sighs, then runs a hand through his hair. "Don't want nothin' t' go wrong."

"Nothing will. We waited for nightfall specifically so that it'd be harder for them to stop us. If we're careful enough, no-one will even know we've been there."

"Reckon yer right." He sighs, then connects the two wires to start the car. "Ready when you are."

(Y/n) smiles. "Let's go then, cowboy."

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"You stay." Arthur says as he pulls into the parking lot of a supermarket at the very edge of the resort. It looks haunted, almost, especially this late at night. Lit up windows are a few streets away, and they don't soothe his nerves in any way. But there are three cars nearby, Arthur figures that's enough to get lucky. "N' get b'hind the steerin' wheel. I'll get the fuel."

(Y/n) nods wordlessly, slides into his spot the moment he exits the vehicle. She gives him a thumbs up when he glances at the window fugitively before walking to the trunk of the car to retrieve a gas can and a hose.

Arthur works tactically— he's done this before. Long, long ago, he'd been merely fifteen or sixteen and stupid.

But not stupid enough to forget how it's done.

He kneels beside the car that's closest to theirs, inserts the hose, brings the other end to his lips and sucks.

No luck, of course not. The tank is empty.

He repeats the process on the second one, so pessimistic that he can't quite believe it when the bitter, chemical stench of fuel invades his mouth and leaves him gasping for air.