05-02-2021, 07:46 PM
The light that meets the dark
Cheri had never imagined that they would see each other again so soon. He’d haunted her from the moment they’d met in the field, and she’d tried (unsuccessfully) to stop obsessing over their interaction in her mind. Part of her knew it was hormones: just her body’s response to being confronted with a stallion Cheri considered equal parts attractive and irritating. She thought about how she’d been confronted with handsome males before and tried to compare the two scenarios, wondering why things had gone differently. Logically there was nothing that separated the black rogue from any other handsome horse. She chalked it up to his uncanny ability to slither under her skin, that’s all. She’d even thought about what she would do if they came face-to-face again, but seeing him roll out from the bed of flowers and rise up to confront her was another matter entirely. It was one thing to imagine telling him off; another thing entirely to actually follow through.
Seeing him again put that all into perspective for the young mare.
He was ruggedly handsome. The dark tone of his skin gleamed in the cold light, taught and rippling over the muscles she remembered as being drenched in rain. He moved like a panther: stalking and sliding his way across the meadow towards her, lean at the waist but wide in the shoulders. He was a perfect specimen of a stallion, as much as she hated to admit it to herself, and the lump gathering in her throat was hard to swallow down as Cheri tried to avoid getting caught once more in his fiery gaze.
She tried anything to distract herself. Her own eyes were tracing the golden streaks of pollen across his cheeks, noting the way they accented his skin and gave him an adonis-like quality. Flowers had been embedded into the thick folds of his mane and tail. By whom, Cheri couldn’t have guessed - he looked to be alone - but she was surprised at the sharp pang of jealousy that came along with the notion of him entertaining a guest.
The closer he came the more unsettled she felt, but the slender mare held her ground and tilted her chin pleasantly, unaware of how enchanting she might’ve looked. The same sensation of persuasive passion overcame her; Cheri hardly knew who she was, acting out of turn and letting her pulse race the way it did. She hardly knew who he was, to be doing such a thing to her with such reckless abandon. He stopped near her, spoke once in a tone that suggested the same conflict she’d glimpsed that night in the meadow, and then sobered a bit before insulting her.
“He’s … different.” She noted, surprised. Something about his face - her eyes moved up the line of his chiseled nose to where he stared back at her, noting how glassy his expression was.
Unthinkingly, Cheri rushed to press her nose against the curve of his arrogant mouth. It was an impulsive action, one he could’ve easily avoided if he wanted to, but an urge drove her to act without considering the consequences. A spark of her magic leapt from her skin and fizzled like an electric pulse of energy, just a small dose of her healing - enough to clear his head and dull the glassy shine in his eyes if she touched him in time - and then she withdrew with a sudden jerk.
“I don’t care.” She murmured in disbelief. “Hate me all you want.”
Seeing him again put that all into perspective for the young mare.
He was ruggedly handsome. The dark tone of his skin gleamed in the cold light, taught and rippling over the muscles she remembered as being drenched in rain. He moved like a panther: stalking and sliding his way across the meadow towards her, lean at the waist but wide in the shoulders. He was a perfect specimen of a stallion, as much as she hated to admit it to herself, and the lump gathering in her throat was hard to swallow down as Cheri tried to avoid getting caught once more in his fiery gaze.
She tried anything to distract herself. Her own eyes were tracing the golden streaks of pollen across his cheeks, noting the way they accented his skin and gave him an adonis-like quality. Flowers had been embedded into the thick folds of his mane and tail. By whom, Cheri couldn’t have guessed - he looked to be alone - but she was surprised at the sharp pang of jealousy that came along with the notion of him entertaining a guest.
The closer he came the more unsettled she felt, but the slender mare held her ground and tilted her chin pleasantly, unaware of how enchanting she might’ve looked. The same sensation of persuasive passion overcame her; Cheri hardly knew who she was, acting out of turn and letting her pulse race the way it did. She hardly knew who he was, to be doing such a thing to her with such reckless abandon. He stopped near her, spoke once in a tone that suggested the same conflict she’d glimpsed that night in the meadow, and then sobered a bit before insulting her.
“He’s … different.” She noted, surprised. Something about his face - her eyes moved up the line of his chiseled nose to where he stared back at her, noting how glassy his expression was.
Unthinkingly, Cheri rushed to press her nose against the curve of his arrogant mouth. It was an impulsive action, one he could’ve easily avoided if he wanted to, but an urge drove her to act without considering the consequences. A spark of her magic leapt from her skin and fizzled like an electric pulse of energy, just a small dose of her healing - enough to clear his head and dull the glassy shine in his eyes if she touched him in time - and then she withdrew with a sudden jerk.
“I don’t care.” She murmured in disbelief. “Hate me all you want.”
@[Obscene]