The Fight

4.

Alexandra did not sleep well that night.
Her mind was muddled with memories as she dreamt; her body twisting in the covers, sweat slicking her skin as she was stuck in the confines of her own mind, unable to do anything but watch as those memories flashed before her eyes.
She dreamt of the scorching summer sun on her skin, of the golden wheat fields in Portugal. She dreamt of her fathers estate in Spain, the air filled with sweat and horses, and the warm nights she snuck out to the stables. She dreamt of her relatives in Portugal, whom she so rarely saw, working their Lusitano horses at dusk as the sun sank below the horizon. She dreamt of her mother, tall and proud astride her beautiful Lusitano mare.
It all came flashing back; that dreadful night. The screams of pain from woman and horse. Scipio, bold and strong, lending her his back as they galloped away and out sight, fleeing from her father and her culture and her life.
Alexandra's eyes snapped open, and her breathing came shallow and fast as she struggled to free herself from the blankets tangled around her legs. She landed on the floor, legs giving way slightly as she stumbled into her kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water. She drank deeply, water dripping down her chin slightly, while shoving back the wave that threatened to consume her, shoving the memories back into a dark corner of her mind. For a moment, the only sound in her kitchen was the sound of her own breathing. Alexandra went to her front door, unlocking it and stepping out into the night.
She gulped down the cool air, soothing her lungs as she walked barefoot to Scipio's paddock. He was in the back corner, but lifted his head, ears pricking as she ducked beneath the fence. He approached her, almond colored eyes bright as she sagged against him, breathing him in and tangling her fingers in his long mane and using her other hand to trace the line of the dorsal stripe down his spine. He curved his neck, turning to look at her and Alexandra rubbed a hand down the long roman nose, straightening out his forelock, and gently stroking the velvet of his nose.
Alexandra then hauled herself onto his back, drinking in the night air beneath the stars, and savoring the warmth of Scipio beneath her as she slowly drifted into dreamless sleep.

* * * * *

Alexandra was awoken by a car door shutting followed by footsteps, Scipio stiffening beneath her but unmoving, the vague pinprick of the morning chill on her skin. A soft voice murmured nearby, and Scipio shifted back a few steps, gradually pulling Alexandra back to consciousness.
She opened sleep murky brown eyes to find Callum staring at her in shock. What might've been amusement and concern passed over his features before it was gone in a blink. Groaning slightly, she shifted, and Scipio turned to look back at her with pricked ears. Alexandra slid down from Scipios back, and her legs nearly gave out when her bare feet met the field. She put a steadying hand on scipios neck, her mind reeling and still fuzzy from sleep.
"You alright?" Callum asked, definite concern, clear as day was now etched on his face. He stayed on the there side of the fence, not daring to come inside with Scipio.
Alexandra rubbed her eyelids. "Yeah, I..." She trailed off, finally coming to her senses, "What time is it? I can't be late for work." she said, panicking slightly.
"It's not even dawn, don't worry. I just wanted to come by," He paused then, looking down at his boots for a moment.
Alexandra regarded him silently, her expression carefully guarded as she waited for whatever he wanted to say. She hadn't taken kindly to his prying questions last night but she had an inkling that he honestly felt bad about it. He looked up then, and moved quickly to his car. For a split second Alexandra wondered if he would just leave, but then he produced a paper bag and two coffees, a sheepish smile on his face. "I brought a peace offering." He said simply, holding the items up for her to see. She couldn't help the grin that split her face as she beckoned him over. Callum didn't hesitate as he ducked under the fence and gave her one of the coffees and offered the paper bag that held a couple of still warm cinnamon buns. She sat promptly in the field, patting the space next to her as she took a bite. Scipio eyed the boy warily, but slowly, gradually approached, ears pricked and eyes inquisitive as to what food they had that he didn't. Alexandra gave him a kiss on the nose, admiring the slope of his roman nose, the burnished gold and sooty dapples of his coat and the almond color of his eyes.
"When he looks at me, I feel like he's peering into my soul."
Alexandra turned her head to look at the boy beside her, who was studying the interaction between girl and horse. Her mouth hardened slightly, seemingly deep in thought. "My mother used to say the same thing." She finally admitted. Callum shot her a glance, and the girl sipped her coffee, staring hard at the ground. "If you must know, she died in a fight. I left not long after, and came here." She looked up then, drawing a breath and running a shaky hand through her hair.
Callum didn't know what to say. Im sorry, didn't seem to cut it, not at all. So they sat in the quiet of the morning for several minutes before he stood, offering her a hand. "I need your help." He said, "With Jigsaw. I've seen you work with the horses, now please work with mine." Alexandra looked up at him, wariness and sadness and maybe a little bit of excitement swirling in the depths of her dark eyes. For a brief moment, he wondered if she would refuse. But then, she reached up, and took his hand in her own. Her grip was as solid as it had been several days before, and her hand was warm and callused and fit perfectly in his own. He hauled her up, and they were so, so close, as she stared up at him with those eyes that roiled with ire hidden deep beneath the surface.
"You've just made yourself a deal Callum Westcott."
He wondered if perhaps those were the most wonderful words he'd ever heard. He grinned, and she gave him a small smile of her own.
"Shall we get started?"