The Hunters and the Hunted // RDR2 // DISCONTINUED

XLIV

I don't typically write in this style but it felt very fitting with the reunion. It's like poetry but make it ✨trash✨

I really REALLY enjoyed writing this chapter very very much and may have shed a tear or two. But like holy shit it was everything I needed to write in this moment!!!

I hope y'all enjoy the ultimate fluff, leave a like or a comment if you think I should write in this style more often!

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Sean's POV

It was merely daybreak when the commotion had started at the edge of the camp, letting me know that I hadn't slept so much as a wink. It had been days. Days since that suicide mission took place; days since she was stolen from us, from me. Within that time frame, I hadn't slept and refused to eat anything despite the gang literally attempting to forcefully spoon feed me. Charles, much like myself, barely left his tent except to feed and care for Nyx and Harley's horses. I, however, couldn't even look at Sterling without thinking of her and what condition she may be in.

Members from near and far began to gather on the outskirts of the camp, drawing my attention. I pushed myself up from my bed, glancing at the space where the female bounty hunter typically slept. With a tired sigh, I lifted myself up and began to walk to the crowd, rubbing my eyes. Charles was also on his feet, now walking next to me.

"T'e hell is happening?" I grumble as we cross the camp.

"No clue. Someone probably just had a good hunt or something." The Native spoke. His face held a rather emotionless expression, having been deprived from his main source of happiness He was just an empty shell.

We reached the gathering fairly quickly, nudging our way passed in order to see what was going on. That's when we saw them; when I saw her.

Her fading red hair was a mess, splashed up with mud and dried blood. The scar on her face was more prominent than usual, clashing with her abnormally pale complexion. She had slices and holes torn in her blouse, revealing the deep gashes and darkening bruises that littered her abdomen. A large patch of dried blood was plastered against her upper lip, having trailed down from her swollen nose, and a big bruise had taken over one side of her jaw. There was a little bit of blood trickling from her temple, possibly from a reopened cut she had received in a fight. Flecks of dirt scattered across her cheeks, almost covering her faint freckles.

And yet, despite all her injuries; all of the blood; all of the mud and dust...

She was still as beautiful as ever. She was still the same Harley I had grown to love so very much in my short time back in the gang. She was still completely and utterly breathtaking.

"Sean–" Her voice was merely a whisper, drowned out by the gang bombarding the trio with questions. I still heard it, of course, because her voice was the one sound I had yearned to hear for that antagonizing few days away from her. It was crackling and small, whether it was from relief or heartbreak, it was still music to my ears.

I rushed forward after collecting my thoughts, falling to my knees by her side and pulling her into my chest. She let out a squeak of pain, wincing at the sudden movement before smiling up at me. There were tears running down her face, washing it clean of some of the grime and revealing more of her natural beauty. I couldn't talk, I wasn't even sure if I was breathing anymore. All I knew was she was alive and she was finally home again.

"Sean, you're making me cry." Harley giggled softly, reaching up and swiping on of my tears with her thumb.

"I- I've just missed ye so much, love. I t'ought ye were... I t'ought–" She hummed sweetly, planting a gentle yet desperate kiss on my lips. I hugged her closer, kissing her passionately as if she would disappear or crumble in my arms. "Ye promised me ye'd be safe."