Bound to love |BxB|

Chapter 6

I had the weirdest position.

I was laying on top of a pile of hay, my head bent backward so that I could glance at the pony behind me. Just for a precaution that anything in the stall wouldn't decide to mush me into pieces. Though luck seemed to be on my side.

Imma was lazily blinking at me, sleep heaving her eyes while she laid on the ground with zero intentions to get up probably for the next five hours.

Thank God.

If it would've been any other stall, I'd be far gone already. So I made sure to appreciate my life for a whole second before I realized that maybe the other outcome would've been more pleasant.

I heard Atticus' snort from somewhere above me, the kind of snort that you tried your best to stifle to not burst out laughing at the most inconvenient moment. I could feel the blush invade my dark features, newfound embarrassment flushing through me.

Glancing at Imma for the last time, the chestnut pony in the corner, I raised my head from the pile of hay and shifted my eyes to the blonde man towering over me.

Atticus didn't even try and hide his amusement, a wide grin stretching his thin lips all the way to his ears, "H-How did you manage to...?"

He inquired with a chuckle, almost cracking up. Something about his tone was a little hysterical as well, like my misfortune had produced a tad too much dopamine to flow through his brain.

I frowned at the man.  

"I-I fell..."

Atticus looked at me for a second with a straight face, then finally burst out into laughter, his voice slightly coarse from the tobacco he had smoked, "Fuck, sorry—"

He breathed out, trying to wipe his smile away while offering his hand out for help, "Are you hurt?"

And as much as I was embarrassed, I couldn't help but feel my face brighten with that same kind of hilarity. His laugh was contagious, and that grin on his face was different. Not that sly, lopsided smirk that made you grow bothered and hot; the one that was simply meant to draw a reaction out of you. It was always slightly...

Detached.

But this one was something else.

It was genuine.

"N-No..." I responded, my gaze cemented on his features. That smile was the most handsome thing in the whole fucking world. And if it meant I had to make a clown out of myself to see it again...

I'd do it— every single time. Thousands of times. Wherever we might've been. At day. With people watching us. Or in the middle of dozens of sleepless nights.

I'd do anything to see it at least once again.

"That's good. It would've been awkward if I would have laughed at a pained man," Atticus winked at me, shaking his crass hand in front of me, "C'mon, let's get you up."

He prompted, my eyes warily taking in his kind offer.

"W-Was that the only thing you were worried about...?" I propped myself to my elbows, wincing at the ache in my upper body that the gate had left behind. No doubt some of the hinges and bulges left marks on my skin, though surely they'd be gone in no time.

Atticus gave me his trademark smirk, that softness fading away as quickly as it had appeared, "Maybe."

His golden eyes watched me playfully, studying the way I paid a little too much attention to his reached-out hand. I tried to brush the doubt off; tried to seem normal on the outside while it took me everything to not freak out on the inside.