Reece's Haven

18

"Why am I running back to the same hands that broke me...?"
– Nautica

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~ D O R O T H Y ~

November 1997

"Beanie," I call out as I step into a horse stable. "Beanie."

An echo of neighs fills the air. With a growing grin on my face, I make my way to the dark brown stallion with a patch of white in the shape of a diamond on his forehead. Once I come into his view, he taps his hooves constantly, excited to see me.

"Beeeeeanie," I squeal, wrapping my arms around his strong neck and pressing my forehead against his. "I missed you. I'm sorry that I didn't come to say goodbye. You must have thought where I was..."

A while later, Beanie happily gallops across the verdant fields while I enjoy the cool breeze. I was not too fond of horse riding during my time here. But when I was in London, where I was deprived of everything that is considered a norm here, I realised how much I took many things for granted here, including horse riding.

From a distance, a figure cladded in a grey hoodie and black trousers is standing underneath a tree. The shade of his hair, together with his body build, gives away his identity. Ignoring his presence, I proceed to ride Beanie, encouraging him to jump over the six obstacles. During the jump over the second last obstacle, a hair clasp from my hair gives way, unleashing my hair to cascade down before being subjected to the wind.

Half an hour later, Beanie becomes tired. Before taking him back to the stables, I direct the handsome stallion towards Damien. He has not moved from the place where I first spotted him. When I near him, I notice that he is holding a white bowl with a spoon inside.

"Damien," I say, stopping the horse.

His blue eyes blink a couple of times, as if he had just woken up. He was probably lost in thought.

"Dorothy," he replies.

"What are you doing here?"

"Eating cereal and enjoying the beautiful view."

"I noticed that you have been watching me for quite a while," I say, crossing my arms.

His hand shoots up to the back of his neck, rubbing it.

"I'm not gonna lie," he says, sheepish. "You are the view."

Typical.

Rolling my eyes, I pat Beanie.

"So... Horse riding," he continues, trying to break the awkward silence between us. "How long have you been doing it for?"

"About five years."

"Do you like it?"

"I love it. Actually, I didn't appreciate horse riding much when I was living here. I love it but I regret not loving it enough. Can you ride a horse?"

"Well, after seeing you, I wish I knew how," he says.

"Do you want to try? Beanie is friendly."

"Beanie?"

"That's his name. So do you want to hop on? I can help you."

"I'm good, thanks. You know, I think this is the first time that we're having a decent conversation," he says with a grin on his face.