「 ✦ ENIGMA ✦ 」ARTHUR MORGAN X READER

002.

seems like dutch had a knack for taking on things that seemed more like pipe dreams than possible tasks. a bank like this seemed worrisome for a small-minded thief like yourself, but the gang thought in wilder terms — more brave, more feral.

the bell above the door offered a weak jingle as you opened it. arthur's looming figure was close behind. the bank smelled of ink and polished wood; it didn't exactly comfort you. behind the desk was a feller with thinning hair who looked up with a small polite smile.

arthur held the door for you, and your boots creaked on the old planks. he spoke, his voice low enough just for you. "remember what dutch said, keep him busy."

"good morning, sir." you beamed, smile growing as you approached the desk. you had a certain pep in your step as you walked, and his eyes lingered for a beat too long. you leaned on the counter with what you hoped was charm, journal protected under your arm."i need help with something. see, my father, he wants me to keep track of our accounts. truth be told, i can't make sense of these numbers to save my life."

the man's smile grew, clearly pleased by the attention from a young lady. "of course, miss. that's why i'm here." he adjusts his hat, looking up at you. "what exactly were you needing help with?"

"everything, really." you mirrored his expression, softly clearing your throat. you leaned forward, opening your journal as if you needed this information to be well documented. "could you tell me how you keep everything so... organized? it seems so complicated."

behind you, arthur moved with practiced care. walking around as if he was just waiting on you. he examined the bars on the windows, the guards outback — all the little bits of information that dutch wanted him to bring back. he was slow, as to not alert anyone of what you two were really there for. the worker was all too happy to oblige, he wasn't making any attempts to hide his clear satisfaction with who was asking him questions.

the bank clerk leaned in too. the smallest act where if you blinked, you would miss it. he spoke almost conspiratorially. "well, see, we got a system. it's real easy once you get the hang of it."

the clerk continued, the sparkle in his eyes showing he was a man who enjoyed being listened to. "each account has a ledger and those are kept in the strongbox at the end of the day. the vault, of course, is secured every evening and only the manager and i have the keys to it."

your pencil etched in practically illegible lines on the page unbeknownst to him, he really believed you when you pretended to drink up each word. you tilted your head, feigning sympathy and teetering on the line of flattery. "must be awful to be the one who has to keep all that straight."

the floor boards creaked under arthur's weight as he shifts, a near silent reminder of his presence. you didn't have to turn to see his hint of disapproval — you could feel it hanging in the room.

"not that important, miss." the clerk relished in the attention, shrugging as if he was no big deal. "just doing my part."

"she's got what she needs." arthur's voice cut through the warmth of the room, the aura changing at the beat of a heart. shivers ran down your spine as you turned to face him. "we best be on our way."

"oh, of course." the bank keeper cleared his throat, suddenly made aware of your company. "do come again."

arthur grunted out a 'mhm,' guiding you to the door. his voice was calm but there always was an edge to the drawl. you suddenly felt as if all eyes were on you. he had a certain presence to him, one that demanded attention. one that secured respect.