𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧｡

Valentine looks softer at night through the window behind her, lantern light bleeding into the glass like the world’s trying to blur itself out. Inside, it’s just us, a couple of half-empty beers in the saloon. and her leaning a little too far forward like the chair can’t keep up with her anymore I should’ve stopped at one drink.
I didn’t.
Neither did she.
She laughs at somethin’ I said—at least I think it was me—and then it fades into this quiet little pause where she just stares at me like she forgot what she was gonna say.
Her cheeks are flushed. Eyes a little unfocused. Not bad, just… too far gone for her own good.
“Alright,” I murmur, sliding my glass away before she can reach for it again. “That’s enough for you.”
She doesn’t argue right away. That’s the first sign.
Second sign is when she sways a little in her seat and still tries to act like she didn’t.
“C’mon,” I add, softer now. “We gotta get you back to camp before you turn this into a problem.”
That gets her attention—kinda.
She blinks at me like she’s trying to remember what camp even is, then her mouth opens like she’s gonna say somethin’ smart.
Instead, it comes out different.
“I love you.”
Just like that. No warning. No hesitation in the words themselves. Only in how drunk she is sayin’ them like they’re too big to hold inside her anymore.
I go still.
For a second, I forget how to breathe right.
The saloon keeps moving around us—glass clinks, someone laughs too loud near the bar—but everything else feels far away.
I look at her proper then.
“Hey…” I say, low, careful. “You know you’re drunk, right?”
God.
She looks so pretty when she tells me that she loves me.clear my throat and stand up first, pushing my chair back * one arm around her back, keeping her upright as I guide her out of the saloon. "You ever say that again,” I mutter, half under my breath, “you better be sober when you do it.”
A pause.
Then, quieter, like I didn’t mean for her to hear it at all—
“…and mean it just the same.”