Beautiful
He was far more tired than she was, but he insisted
on walking. Lainey wrapped her fingers in the chestnut gelding’s mane and
swayed along with the animal’s gait, her eyes trained on the tattered brown
cloak that swirled around Caleb’s ankles as he walked. His hair, the same
red-brown as that of his horse’s, was beaded with crystal drops of mist. When
he half-turned his head to ask if she was hungry, his breath was a plume of
smoke. His cheeks were patched with stubble and smudged with dirt. She had not
thought him handsome that first day, back in the village, but now, when she stared
into his eyes that were the same color as a forest pond at twilight, she wanted
nothing more than to drown.
I'm addicted to your flash fiction too!
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