whirring, whizzing of stray bullets kept his shoulders tense, big iron at the ready just as it always was. outrunning the law felt like child's play by now, an accustomed practice or perhaps just the way of life. he sure as hell felt like he was a kid again, running alongside his partner in mischief. tink, tink, tink of heavy boots and their buckles ceased the moment the pair rounded a corner, white distant shouting and shooting stirred the streets and soon faded with the panicked bustle and clacking of horse hooves. back to the wall, weapon aimed at the sky, cassidy peered back over one shoulder, eyeing fleeing and cowering pedestrians and bewildered lawmen.
relief laxed his frame once calm dawned upon them, their position allowing a heavy huff and holstering of his gun, albeit reluctant. with no time to waste, now freed hand dug into his pockets for a cigar he'd been saving, arthur's words blowing with the wind and earning an amused hiss as flame was born.
❝ that we do, morgan. that we do. ❞ he supposed, inhaling slow, eyes flickering towards his companion, rested and at ease. peering at the setting sun from underneath the brim of his hat, he then gave the other an elbow to the side, playful nudge in response to their escapades. ❝ just like old times, ain't it? ❞ he wondered, head tipping back against dusty brick, forcing his hat over his eyes. pausing, devious tug at the lips. ❝ only now yer a lot- sadder 'n more sorry lookin' than me. ❞
@redempting : we make a pretty good team (for cassidy)
the dusk - swollen sun burns bright and beats hot , rushing down the barrel of his revolver in shades of stolen gold and raspy amber. it dances across the nickle finish like a co - conspirator ; winking back into the shadows as he aims the gun low & ready. but the long arm of the law curls its fist closed & comes up entirely empty. no one follows them around the corner.
arthur tugs the black bandana down , settling it back around his neck in coiled folds as he catches his breath. the air tastes stale ; spoiled by iron & adrenaline ; stained by sparks of gunpowder & kicked - up dust. but most of all , the air tastes like the memories of days past. he spares a quick glance for the man at his side , a friend from long ago & perhaps one again , here & now , if they can manage not to get shot or send it all to shit. ( a mighty tall order for the likes of them. )
at cassidy’s teasing , he rolls his eyes with purposeful exaggeration — bringing his whole body into the gesture with a sarcastic tip of his head. there’s a quiet laugh rumbling in his chest ; something warm & genuine & rare. cassidy hasn’t changed a bit , the goddamn fool.
❝ well . . . i guess you took all the pretty and none’a the skill. ❞ he jokes, a smirk sitting crooked on his lips. ❝ you sure you even got bullets in that gun ? 'cause i didn’t see you hit a damn thing. ❞ his smirk swells into a grin that’s gone ripe with mischief. even after all these years , he can’t resist rising to the bait. cassidy has always been fun to antagonize. it’s easy to slip back into old habits ; almost as if the years between then and now are nothing more meaningful than the dirt on their boots or the pedestrians milling about.
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