The light that meets the dark
She wasn’t bothered, was she? She was hurt. She was a young thing, the makings of a fine mare that would someday gleam in her own right. Years would pass before Cheri could find the confidence he wielded so casually, because it was a harsh type of world they lived in and she was still dependent on the opinions of others, even if the opinions were the crass, outspoken thoughts of a worm. He was good at what he did, and she was a wounded sort of bird now. Her wings could carry her away but if she left right now, Cheri would truly consider herself unworthy of being considered ‘brave’. What she wanted, more than anything, was not to be a coward like he was. “What you wanted was to take his breath away, like he did yours.” She grit her teeth.
“I would like to never see you again.” She said hotly, glad that her emotional tears could mingle into the rainwater streaming over the bridge of her lowered nose. Her mane, once gleaming, was now plastered against the arc of her neck and stuck awkwardly between the cresting ridges of the white crystals growing out from her forehead. She sniffed and doubled down on her promise not to entertain him, keeping her gaze firmly squared away on the dark soil beneath them though they badly wanted to rise and glare back.
She could almost picture him anyway, just by the timbre of his husky voice.
The imagination of him in her mind flashed like a red bolt through her fluttering chest. How sloppy he really was, how unkempt and opposite of everything she was used to back home. What would her father think of her, consorting with a type like this? Had she really only been moments away from letting herself go? Across the heavens, fingers of electricity buzzed, radioactive. The simple spring rain had turned into a downpour, making it hard to hear or see through the veil of so much water. Cheri panted, building up the image of the black male in her mind - crafting that jaw she’d had the pleasure of nearly touching moments before, mimicking the sincere cockiness of his mouth half-turned into a smirk, feeling her pulse race and her fury peak at the remembrance of his eyes and how it felt to be under their momentary spell.
Her head turned then to look back at the brute, and she let him have the best of her.
“Take your standards and shove them right up your ass.” Cheri snarled, so unlike herself. She felt emboldened, and the storm weathered like her emotions: wild and stinging, lashing against them both and thundering with danger. “I can satisfy another; I… I can.” She stumbled through the declaration, but shook her forelock out of her eyes as best she could, flaring her wings above her to blot out the rain.
“I’ve made a stallion laugh before, I’ve slept curled against him. I’ve taken his pain away and heard the sound of my name on his lips like a prayer to the fae, so I know… I know that I can.” She shouted above the cacophony, taking back the distance between them with each memory she recalled. “Targaryen,” She reminded herself of his name, “is a stallion grown. He counts.” She tried to convince herself, if only to fool this arrogant male for a moment. The pied stallion who’d followed her home from the river was nearly double her age and had always been like a brother to Cheri, but that last part about calling her name… Targaryen hadn’t been acting like a brother then, had he? “No.” Her heart thundered in her chest, and the forks of unnatural light in the sky came cracking down to strike the earth in the distance. Cheri caught her breath, momentarily distracted, and she jolted backwards in fear at how close it’d been. Her senses seemed dulled by the natural phenomena, so loud that for a moment she heard nothing at all. Then the thunder rolled under their hooves and she shuffled to catch her bearings.
Her vision was swimming, as if she were being dragged under by the rain. Her wings faltered and fell again to her sides, haphazard and unable to help her balance. She could feel her skull splitting in two almost as if the lightning bolt had struck her forehead and not the earth half a mile off, and for a moment she forgot about the stranger in favor of trying not to lose the contents of her stomach.
“I would like to never see you again.” She said hotly, glad that her emotional tears could mingle into the rainwater streaming over the bridge of her lowered nose. Her mane, once gleaming, was now plastered against the arc of her neck and stuck awkwardly between the cresting ridges of the white crystals growing out from her forehead. She sniffed and doubled down on her promise not to entertain him, keeping her gaze firmly squared away on the dark soil beneath them though they badly wanted to rise and glare back.
She could almost picture him anyway, just by the timbre of his husky voice.
The imagination of him in her mind flashed like a red bolt through her fluttering chest. How sloppy he really was, how unkempt and opposite of everything she was used to back home. What would her father think of her, consorting with a type like this? Had she really only been moments away from letting herself go? Across the heavens, fingers of electricity buzzed, radioactive. The simple spring rain had turned into a downpour, making it hard to hear or see through the veil of so much water. Cheri panted, building up the image of the black male in her mind - crafting that jaw she’d had the pleasure of nearly touching moments before, mimicking the sincere cockiness of his mouth half-turned into a smirk, feeling her pulse race and her fury peak at the remembrance of his eyes and how it felt to be under their momentary spell.
Her head turned then to look back at the brute, and she let him have the best of her.
“Take your standards and shove them right up your ass.” Cheri snarled, so unlike herself. She felt emboldened, and the storm weathered like her emotions: wild and stinging, lashing against them both and thundering with danger. “I can satisfy another; I… I can.” She stumbled through the declaration, but shook her forelock out of her eyes as best she could, flaring her wings above her to blot out the rain.
“I’ve made a stallion laugh before, I’ve slept curled against him. I’ve taken his pain away and heard the sound of my name on his lips like a prayer to the fae, so I know… I know that I can.” She shouted above the cacophony, taking back the distance between them with each memory she recalled. “Targaryen,” She reminded herself of his name, “is a stallion grown. He counts.” She tried to convince herself, if only to fool this arrogant male for a moment. The pied stallion who’d followed her home from the river was nearly double her age and had always been like a brother to Cheri, but that last part about calling her name… Targaryen hadn’t been acting like a brother then, had he? “No.” Her heart thundered in her chest, and the forks of unnatural light in the sky came cracking down to strike the earth in the distance. Cheri caught her breath, momentarily distracted, and she jolted backwards in fear at how close it’d been. Her senses seemed dulled by the natural phenomena, so loud that for a moment she heard nothing at all. Then the thunder rolled under their hooves and she shuffled to catch her bearings.
Her vision was swimming, as if she were being dragged under by the rain. Her wings faltered and fell again to her sides, haphazard and unable to help her balance. She could feel her skull splitting in two almost as if the lightning bolt had struck her forehead and not the earth half a mile off, and for a moment she forgot about the stranger in favor of trying not to lose the contents of her stomach.
@[Obscene]