It Was Never Common Practice To Ask For Details When Arthur Was Getting Paid For A Job. In His Experience,

it was never common practice to ask for details when arthur was getting paid for a job. in his experience, FEWER details made the job easier. & frankly, he did not care to know the circumstances - only how much it paid.

escorting a bride-to-be across statelines was among his more duller jobs to date. the details were not something he spent much time thinking on.

the door is kicked shut with enough force to wobble on its rusting hinges, & arthur's long sigh follows like a low rumble of thunder. the pay of bringing her to her wedding was HANDSOME enough - this ain't too far from bounty-hunting, come to think of it.

❝ perhaps you would prefer sleeping outside in the dirt, princess, ❞ arthur mutters out, giving a shake of his head. ❝ nah, trust me - the first place them bounty hunters will check is the fancy hotel. we're better off here. ❞

he falls into a wooden chair in the corner of the room, offering hope baxter as much space as the room would allow. if arthur wasn't so wound up, perhaps the reality of being ALONE in a hotel room with a women would be more apparent.

a small, admittedly quite mortified, ❝ 𝒐𝒉 . ❞ is all she manages for a bit as the realization of what he is saying settles in her mind . in all of her sheltered naiveté of course she hadn't considered that , yet another reminder that there is terrifyingly 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 she knows about the world beyond her daddy's church doors.

embarrassment rises hot into her cheeks. it was bad enough to feel ignorant, oblivious to the uncensored reality arthur has been steeped in all of his life - but the cacophony of debauchery seeping through the thin walls merely serves to rub salt into the wound. He was 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, & she was becoming increasingly certain this world would eat her up alive if it weren't for him.

hope follows closer behind, trying her best to ignore how her mind 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 dangerously - the sounds don't help, neither does the thought of what these rooms were typically for . Especially unhelpful is the way his frame dwarfs her own , taking up so much of the little space available to them in this narrow hallway . . .

it's also not lost on her that if she hadn't gotten cold feet, 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 would have been her wedding night.

❝ alright, alright - i catch your drift, cowboy,❞ she concedes, hoping that will get him off her back for a moment at least.

entering the room they had been given for the night, there is no hiding the crinkle of her freckled nose at the state of it. of course, being thoroughly humbled by their exchange in the hall - among many other times since he had ridden into her life - she keeps her mouth shut.

hope hovers for a moment, frozen - unsure how to relax in such . . . 𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄 accommodations. she doesn't hesitate long, opting to teeter on the edge of a portion of the mattress free of any questionable stains.

❝ not sure how comfortable i can get . . . considerin' the circumstances,❞ she huffs, an attempt at a joke to ease the growing tension as it suddenly dawns on her that the room is woefully sparse - only one bed for the two of them.

she swallows, 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃. it's going to be a very long night.