Well, I'm officially the worst uploader in the entire frigin universe. I actually haven't updated this since like August. Ah I'm so sorry but I've been so busy... and... excuses. This chapter was sort of a filler, because the next chapter is when the story really starts.
Ok well don't hate toooooo much.
-Laur&Cat
CHAPTER 5
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LAUREN’s POV:
I wrap the elastic twice more around my long, thick waves and pull it into a high ponytail. The ends of my hair falls more than halfway down my back. I pull my competition breeches over my legs, and my riding socks coming just below my knee. Then, my boots. My tall boots, which cover my socks.
If the judges saw my socks over the top of my tall boots, that would immediately take points away. Judges are really picky about the outfits as well- which annoys me. It’s a riding competition not a fucking fashion show, but I guess I could just go to that little Primadonna if I have fashion problems.
I button my competition shirt, not the collar - for now at least, and fold my riding blazer into the tack trunk.
I catch a glance of myself in the mirror velcroed to the inside of the tack trunk. I stare at myself blankly.
Well, that’s unfortunate. You don’t look anything like you think you do.
My skin is a solid pale; so pale that I look icy cold and incapable of feeling warmth in my cheeks or a plushness to my lips. My hair is strategically pulled away from my face and into the ponytail. But everything else..
You oughta go back on that training diet, piggo.
That’s right. Well, I’m very skinny to say the very least, but ever since that blonde, little BULLDOZER drove right up to my kitchen, I must admit to consuming a bit more than my usual diet. Better break that habit before it’s too late and my saddle sizes moves to a seventeen-and-a-half.
“Lauren?” I hear a young, masculine whisper bounce like a sonar off the walls of my barn’s show tent. I bat my eyes a few times, pulling my eyes away from my reflection . . . the reflection of the girl I now know that I am not.
I turn softly on my new, polished tall boots. There stands Ski Jump, ever so swiftly as he walks over in his high-top Supras and skinny jeans tucked in. You never really notice him. He’s smooth, for one thing. It seems as if he can appear and disappear within one’s slightest absence from the moment. You never hear him, he moves silently in your blind spot.
“Excuse you . . .” I say, pressing my eyes towards his. He moves closer, with a sly smirk. What does that bastard want?
“Sorry, if I’m--er--intruding. I know you girls need privacy and al-”
“You’re a little genius, aren’t you?! You’ve just discovered that most girls need privacy? Well done Mount-Everest-Head, well done! At this rate, by nightfall you’ll come up with a scientific explanation as to why girls PMS during their period!” I exclaim sarcastically, shooting him a thumbs up and slamming the tack trunk.
He smirks, probably because I just called him Mount Everest Head.. that was a good one.
“Alright, I was gonna ask if you needed anything but it seems as if you’ve got it und-”
“That’s right- I’ve been doing this for years I’m pretty sure I can handle this...” I say, rather softly. I figure I’ll ease up on the poor fellow just a little, I’ve already tortured him.
He nods, and starts to walk away.
“BUT . . .” I call, as he stops in his tracks and turns his head towards me in the slightest of movements. He doesn’t look directly behind, but he angles his chin toward his shoulder. The sun hits his face like beams from Heaven Above, the sun is so bright and is far from timid. His dark eyes boom with contrast. He looks . . . very good.
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A PAYNEFUL PAIR- LIAM PAYNE FANFIC.
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