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01-19-2014, 11:20 PM
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He doesn't say anything, but I can feel the disagreement rolling off him in waves. Of course, he thinks he wants me. He thinks that we can just pick up where we left off, because that's what couples do when they're in love. Because when someone's in love with you, they don't go behind your back with someone else. They don't just move on when you disappear for no reason other than anger that you left them. When someone loves you, they hold out for you. They hang on to the hope that you're still out there somewhere, fighting to return to them. I didn't do any of that, and as much as I want to love him, I don't think I deserve the privilege. He deserved better then, and he deserves better now. Before either of us manage to say another word, hoofbeats ricochet off the walls of our little tunnel. At first, I am relieved, because I am a small mare trying to support a weak stallion, and though he is by no means overweight, he is still heavy - but then I notice that the approaching shadow is very large and is preceded by a familiar, musky scent. My breath catches in my throat. No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Please no. But my silent pleas do me no good, for who should step out from the shadows other than Gaucho. He spreads his wings, lighting the space with flickering flames I hadn't known he had, and looks at me in the most accusing manner I can possibly imagine from such a primitive individual. A very widely ranging mixture of emotions swamps me all at once. For one, there is something about this damn stallion that always, always makes me feel a bit weak in the knees, if you know what I mean. Second, he is glaring at Note in a way that says very clearly (at least to me) that I am his, and as much as I dislike being considered someone's property (do I, though?), a vague sense of pride in myself rises because I caught the steed's eye and held his attention and now he wants me. Third, he is more than a little terrifying as he glowers at the pair of us, as though Note and I, of all people, were caught doing something wrong. Oh, the irony. I'm not proud of the fact that I find myself cowering slightly before what I presume is barely contained wrath (though I might be over-exaggerating - but, after all, I did lose his daughter, and now I've been caught with another stallion). I am glad when Note takes his own weight upon himself, for it allows me to lean ever-so-slightly out of his hold - he probably won't notice the move, but Gaucho might, if he's looking at me instead of engaging in a pissing match with my mate. Is he my mate still? Should I act like it? My auds flicker half back, and then forward again, my confusion and discomfort plain. I don't know what to do. I don't know who I'm supposed to choose - for doesn't this situation require me to do just that? One way or another, I have to walk away from this with one of these two stallions. And then, Note speaks to Gaucho. I want to beat my head slowly and repeatedly against the nearest wall, for if I know anything at all about my primitive little secret, it's that he won't take kindly to what he sees as a challenge. Even if Note didn't mean it that way... it isn't likely to matter, unless something has changes since I saw Gaucho last. "Hi, Gaucho," I finally offer in what I hope is the least awkward way possible, though I seriously doubt that my discomfort is hidden. After all, the tension is so thick you could cut it. Gods help me. "Talk talk talk." @[name] |
| Sohalia Don't wanna leave this life knowing I barely tried... |
