Meet Me at Our Spot? - Fred Weasley

Go to Spain they said! It'd be fun they said!

Horseback riding was the closest Giselle had ever come to dreaming while perfectly awake. So strong was the sensation that being with a horse was her personal kind of heaven.

Nothing felt as good as the feel of the braided leather reins sawing against her soft gloveless palms, and it was a sensory blessing when her dainty fingertips traced the soft fluttering features of her mare Brigitte.

Maybe the reason she loved it so much was because she'd been the one to decide she should do it.

Most things in her life are out of her control. Thus very few things are truly to her liking. 

For example: Giselle hates playing the piano. Truly she detests it. 

Her tutors over the years - yes plural. She'd been such a nightmare to teach due to her supposed 'resistance' to learn that over 5 had given up and quit in a 3-year period.- had all said just about the same thing. 

'I've never met someone so musically tone deaf!'

After hearing that one or two times it's unsurprising Giselle lost all urges to try and push forward with learning the skill. She'd started expressing her dislike for the 'hobby' profusely. Yet, her mum never let up. Giselle still has weekly lessons with a private tutor - he's a total Mozart wannabe in her opinion. Plus he's just as ancient.- at beauxbatons. 

Art is funny enough another thing she hadn't started willingly. She thought it would be boring. The girl once upon a time saw no appeal in wasting away in front of an easel.

Of course, she sees things very differently now.

After all the things she'd gone through with the loss of her brother art  and riding had become her only two healthy ways of coping. 

Riding was the less glamorous of the two. That clear as she struggles to tame the muggle-style hose currently wrangling around like a fussy toddler in her grasp. A 'knot' keeping the water from flowing out of the tube freely and onto her very sweaty horse post ride.

"Merde!" She huffed defeatedly when the water sprayed out in a strong gush. Raining down on her pink breeches and day-to-day riding boots.

Truly the opposite of elegance. 

"Y'know the point of this is to bathe the horse and not yourself right?" Laurie asked rhetorically. His tone is annoyingly cheeky. 

Giselle glared at him over Brigitte's withers.

"I had no clue!" She said sarcastically. Her eyes narrow and her expression is unamused. His smug smile only widened and her heart raced faster. 

Laurie wasn't into riding. If anything Giselle swore he was rather scared by the large four-legged animals - he of course very adamantly denied such a claim-.

Nonetheless, he was always around. Always.

It was as though his presence in her life had grown increasingly common since her birthday. The girl is unsure why, but she wasn't complaining. 

Her feelings for him haven't fully changed. He was still - Laurie.

And even if they had slightly lessened - her emotions and thoughts have been all over the place as of late. The clearest culprit in her rational mind was her hormones.- he was still very good at getting her heart racing.

They held inconsistent eye contact as Giselle aimed the hose at her horse's hooves. letting the soft pressure of the cool water clear away any debris and sand. It was rather silent. Not in an uncomfortable way, but in a way that showed they still struggled with being unfamiliar to one another.