"Goodness, she's beautiful." Roxy murmured as she stepped towards the occupied stall. A chestnut mare peeked her head over the stall door, snorted a welcome. Roxy's hands brushed down the smooth cheeks and then down the nose, reveling in the beauty of the horse.
Patrick watched her, a grin tugging his lips as he perched his arm on the stall door to watch her profile. The affectionate comment towards the mare was a surprise to him. Her gentle murmur contrasted with her 'avril lavigne punk' appeal.
"What's her name?" She asked, looking over towards him.
"Rose. Ma named her." He shrugged. He stepped closer towards her.
"It fits." She continued petting the horse as she kept her gaze on his. Roxy smiled and leaned her forehead against the mare's nose when she snorted affectionately against her.
She didn't see his eyebrows raise and his eyes narrow at her actions. Who was this girl he thought he knew?
She loved it; the smells of warmed hay from the sun creeping through the wooden planks. The dust flickering in the sunlight throughout the stable that held the stock of at least ten horses. She could imagine all the work that was put into this, day after day. Feeding, mucking out, hauling the hay, maybe more. It'd be worth it just to be around the horses.
"You're different around here." He watched her smile and before she could say anything he grabbed her hand to walk around to the side of the stall door. He unlached it and stepped aside to open it just enough for them to pass through. He waited for her to pass infront of him but she didn't move. "Go ahead." He ran his hand over her hair that graced down her back, paused to tangle his fingers in the tips.
"Different can be good." She said, stepping over little mounds of hay that were scattered over the stall floor. She approached the horse and ran her hands in long strokes over it's silky chestnut coat. She looked up at Patrick when he was still silent. His eyes were pinned on hers.
"What?" Her fingers moved up towards the long mane at Rose's neck.
"I've never seen this side of you." He paused as he stepped towards her, tucked his thumbs through the loops of her dickies, brought her closer. "I kinda like it." His face moved closer to hers and his nose nudged her cheek to the side so that his lips caressed a trail down her jaw line.
"Do you?"
Rose sputtered behind them and moved over to the far end of the stall.
"How come you never show it?" His voice was gentled, his lips whispered towards hers. He tugged at the pant loops to turn her around and began slowly walking both of them towards the wall of the stall, sun-warmed hay crunched under their feet.
"I guess it only shows at certain times." Her breath caught as he gently cupped her cheek in his palm.
"Like now?"
He didn't wait for her to respond but slowly closed his lips over hers. He pulled back a breath away, caressed her cheek with his thumb. His gray-blue eyes were now a intense blue gazing into her chocolate brown ones. He pressed his lips to hers again. There was no aggression, no rush to roam and touch, just the simple kiss seemed to fuel them with emtions.
Whispered kisses. Her heart was her mind.
They pulled apart again. Patrick smiled and slowly lowered her towards the corner of the stall on a clumped mattress of hay.
"Did I ever tell ya how much the smell of farm you brought with you to school drove me crazy? There'd be a faint smell of barn in the wind and I knew you were somewhere close." She pushed an escaped piece of hair from his forehead.
He looked down at her, the sun reflecting over her blond hair. "I've never knew you were so angelic."
Again he didn't let her respond and he rubbed his lips gently over hers, his fingers digging into the hay underneath her head.
He knew when she stood up, the mass of hay straws would be tangled in her hair. He grinned against her lips at the thought.
He kinda like it.