"Here.", Arthur handed you a revolver. "This is a small one. See if you can handle it."

With an unimpressed expression, you turned the gun in your hand to see how the many bits and pieces were put together.

The weight pulled you down, almost like having a rock tied to your fingers.

With one finger on the trigger, you raised the revolver and squeezed one eye shut to aim at a tree, not far away.

But before you could fire the first shot, a chuckle reached your ears.

An annoyed sigh escaped your lips.

"What am I doing wrong?", you asked and glanced at him from the corner of your eyes.

With a smirk on his face and a cup of coffee in his hand, Arthur sat at the campfire and watched you.

"I didn't say nothin'.", he said, audibly amused.

"You laughed."

"I didn't."

"I heard you."

"It was just a chuckle."

You rolled your eyes, not able to hide the smirk that was tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"It was enough.", you tried to adjust your stand to make a better impression. "If you're such an expert, just show me."

With one eyebrow raised and a sarcastic smirk, he tilted his head and leaned one hand on his leg for support.

"To help you right off the bat?", he chuckled again and took a sip of coffee. "Nah. That'll be too easy."

Sighing, you leaned your head back in an attempt to look at him without having to move.

"You're such a pain in the ass, mister Morgan.", you chirped, smiling so sweet that even he had to pull a face in disgust.

"Put your legs further apart.", he just said. "Shoulders back. You need to stand a bit sideways, to get a better balance when the recoil hits."

You took his advice, moved one foot back and stiffened your shoulders.

"Not like that.", he complained, almost sounding embarrassed by what he had to look at.

"Why not?", you asked without moving. "Legs apart, shoulders back. That's what you said."

He got up and walked up to you.

His eyes examined your form for a moment before another smirk tugged at his lips.

With one hand on his belt, he fished a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it.

A thin strand of smoke rose into the air.

The smell of ashes crawled into your nose, mixed with the scent of pine tree needles and fresh mountain river water.

You ignored the desire to turn around and look him in the face that tugged at the back of your brain.

Taking a deep breath in, you adjusted your position another time.

But Arthur still didn't seem satisfied.

He put the cigarette between his lips to let it dangle, placed the metal cup of coffee on a rock next to you and let his gaze wander up and down one more time.

You were about to to put pressure on the trigger as the touch of a hand stroked over your back.

Struck by surprise, you flinched.

The feeling of his hand chased shivers down your spine.

But it was hard to tell if they were the pleasant or the pressured kind of shivers.

"Easy.", Arthur hummed and pressed the palm of his hand into the curve of your spine. "Now hold this posture. And relax. You'll pull a muscle once the recoil hits."

Understanding, you hummed and did just as he had said.

You wanted to learn how to shoot correctly. Especially now that you were in dire need of protection.

Arthur wouldn't be around forever.

You needed to get as much lessons out of him as possible. Even though you would have liked to spent more time with him.

He was enjoyable company despite his chosen profession.

You took a deep breath, which made your shoulders rise.

At first you thought he'd complain about the movement, since it changed your posture a little.

But as you glanced at him from the corner of your eyes, he had his arms crossed in front of his chest and his chin raised in approval.

A smirk lingered on his face.

He almost seemed proud.

Only the sight was enough to make you stop thinking.

He really was a handsome fella, with that beard of his, that slowly started to get longer and that brown hair, that he always kept hidden underneath that black cowboy hat.

There was still that small scar peaking through the stubbles of his beard though.

One thing that you deemed cute about him. You didn't know why, but spotting it between all these long strands made you smile.

With one eyebrow raised and his head tilted, Arthur eyed you.

"What are ya waitin' for?", he asked. "Take the shot."

You snapped back into reality and tore your eyes off his face.

But as you did so, your gaze crossed his chest.

The neckline of his shirt was buttoned open and offered a deep insight.

He wasn't wearing the black scarf tied around his neck like he usually did, so there was nothing to shield his body from you noticing the thick hair that covered his chest.

It made him look even rougher, more feral than before. But it suited him. The hair growth on his veiny arms had already given away that he was a hairy man, so this chest hair didn't come as a surprise.

It just added to his image as a tough man who was going places.

Torn back to reality, you let your head snap back to the tree and aimed at it just like you had done before.

Your finger put pressure on the trigger.

A clicking sound filled your ears.

"More.", Arthur said.

You did press down.

A shot rang out.

The smell of gunpowder filled the air.

Adrenaline rushed through your veins and made your ears tingle.

But there wasn't a lot of time to be happy about the bullet that successfully went on its way.

All at once, the recoil it you.

Your arm snapped back, making your fingers twist and almost drop the gun.

"Holy shit!", you gasped and laughed. "I took a shot, Arthur!"

He pulled a face, shrugging.

"Yeah, well, ya missed.", he said in a dry manner.