Day 5: Frozen Feet/Hands, Arthur Morgan

                                    

                                          
Summary: The Mountainside is unforgiving to those that pass through. Colter holds no love for a sinner, but a sinner just might be who you need to chase the cold away.
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You had lost feeling in your fingers long ago, the piss-poor gloves that you had knit beforehand doing absolutely nothing to keep the freezing temperature away.
They were aching, begging to let go of the reigns of your stallion; blisters rubbing within the confines of the wool before they had officially gone numb.
The Van der Linde gang had fled from Blackwater, fleeing to wherever salvation they could after the massacre, and when they got to Colter and the empty, abandoned village, it was only a matter of time.
Dutch, Arthur, and Hosea got everyone situated into one of the homes that wasn't completely broken down; a fire started within the fireplace with some wood that, thankfully, wasn't wet and frozen. There was hardly any space to sit as everyone hunkered down, and you were left sitting against the wall, rubbing your hands desperately.
If you didn't get them warmed up as soon as you could, you were gonna run the risk of frostbite if you haven't already; and you weren't really ready to lose any of your fingers nor toes.
Wiggling, stretching, and clenching your fingers, you shivered almost violently before squeezing your eyes shut. It was fine. It was definitely fine.
Your heartbeat began to race, anxiety filling your stomach, and you looked up at Arthur as he knelt in front of you, your hands clasped within his own. His hands were warm even through his gloves, and you almost melted along with your heart when he began to blow hot air on your frozen extremities.
"Mr. Morgan, you really don't have to do that."
Arthur shook his head, glancing up at you from beneath the brim of his hat.
"Don't worry about it. Don't wanna lose those fingers now, do we?"
His hazel blue-green eyes were kind as he looked up at you before he bent down again, blowing more hot air onto your hands. Already, the feeling was starting to come back, and you replied softly.
"No, I don't suppose we do. Thank you."
Arthur nodded, and the sound of Micah's voice made Arthur's grip on your hands tighten.
"Aw, look at the two lovebirds. I mean, I wasn't really in the market for a show, but I'd love to watch if you two don't mind."
You made a face at the man, teeth clenching. Before you or Arthur could retort, Bill hissed out.
"Oh, would you shut the fuck up already, Micah? All you fucking do is yap, yap, yap about how everyone should be pullin' their weight, and yet I don't see you scoutin' ahead with Marston like you're supposed to be!"
Micah gave Bill a look, gesturing to the fire.
"Am I not allowed some warmth as well? What use would I be to Dutch if I lose my fingers? Come on, Arthur, show me some sweetness too!"
He snickered, and you snapped, Arthur's eyes glancing up at you in surprise as the smirk on Micah's face slowly fell into an expression of anger and offense.
"You'd be of better use stuck in a shallow grave where you belong, you rat. You're only purpose in life is to waste the oxygen that God provides to you, it seems. Now get the hell out of here! The terrain ain't gonna scout itself...unless I need to tell Dutch that his favorite bastard ain't bastarding like he used to?"
"What the hell did you say to me, you bitch?"
Arthur finally stood, letting your hands go to settle one on his holster, glaring down at Micah.
"You need to get on right now, or I'll leave where you lie, boy."
Dutch suddenly walked into the house, making Micah give one last glare to you, Arthur, and Bill before giving some sod excuse as to why he hadn't left yet when Dutch questioned him. Arthur took a breath before shaking his head, clasping your hands within his own again.
"That damn snake...don't even know why we kept him."
You huffed slightly before asking Arthur, making him glance at you.
"Are you alright, Arthur?"
Arthur's gaze was soft, a slight smirk on his lips.
"Think I should be asking you that, Miss (L/n). I think that's first time I've seen you get upset like that."
You were embarrassed, shrugging your shoulders as your fingers began to feel warm again.
"Forgive me, I shouldn't have been so abrasive like that. Mr. Bell just...gets on my nerves."
"He gets on everyone's damn nerves. Ain't no reason to apologize."
Your fingers had gotten warm a few minutes ago, but you were enjoying the way Arthur was holding your hands. If he had noticed that they were warm as well, Arthur didn't say anything. He was glancing around the cramped cabin, taking in everyone's condition before he glanced back at you.
"You warmed up?"
"I think so. Thank you, Arthur."
Arthur nodded before he stood, murmuring softly.
"Don't let that snake get to you, alright? we're gonna get ourselves out of this mess."
"I believe you."
Arthur nodded, gently backing away a bit before he took his scarf off and wrapped it around your hands. You were surprised, opening your mouth to reject when Arthur hummed to you.
"I got another in the saddlebag. Don't worry about it. You just focus on staying warm, Miss (L/n)."
You nodded slowly before glancing down at the scarf wrapped around your hands, the residual warmth and Arthur's scent lulling you into a calm and relaxed state.
Arthur spared you one last glance before he left outside where Dutch was beckoning him, a grim expression on the gang leaders face and stealing his attention away.
I bet he doesn't even realize that it's almost Christmas, you thought to yourself, a small and giddy smile on your face as you held your hands close to you; a newfound warmth spreading all over your body and butterflies fluttering within your chest.
How beautiful it was for butterflies to be fluttering within winter.
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