Unloved

Chapter Six

~Edited chapter.~

Later that day, when I'm in the pasture grazing, Will leads Jimber out to give him a bath. I walk over to where the hose is and watch as Will ties Jimber to the post. He turns on the hose and soaks Jimber's legs in the cool water. He then moves the hose up to his belly, wetting Jimber's belly with the H2O.

I'm memorized as Jimber gets soaked, ear to hoof, with the water, Making him uncontrollably hot. I can't take my eyes off his face, which is oozing of water. He shakes his mane, my heart skips a beat.

That's when I realize it. I like him. I like him. As in I have a crush on him. And he knows it.

When he realizes that I'm watching, he ignores me but continues to shake his mane, making Will step back.

"Aw! Jimber! Now you got me all wet!" Will complains. Jimber smirks and shakes again. I quiver in excitement. My heart leaps. As Will races to get a couple of towels, for both him and Jimber, Jimber looks at me. He smiles.

"Can I help you?" He asks.

"N-n-no." I say.

"Why are you looking at me?" He asks.

"Is it against the law to look at you?" I ask, using his quote from the last few days. He smirks.

"It just might." he replies. I can feel my cheeks growing warm. I then look away, and continue grazing. But soon I find myself looking at his wet body. His tan fur is sleek and wet, and is shining in the afternoon sunlight. He is so pretty. So handsome. I try to think of something else, like Amber, who was prancing happily with the other foals, eyeing me at moments. Or Shep in his old age, or full grown Cubby. But I always find myself returning to Jimber.

When Jimber is dried off, Will leads him into the stable as Zoey comes to fetch me for a bath. I follow her, as she ties the halter and lead line to the wooden post. She turns on the hose, and wets my legs with the refreshing water, now ice cold from the previous use. She wets my body, and from inside, I can see Jimber watching me. I smile and shake my mane.

I don't care that Zoey screamed and fell in the mud from trying to block herself from getting wet. I don't care that she yelled at me. I hardly listened. All I cared about was making Jimber want me. Which wasn't too hard.

When I was placed in my stall, Jimber looked at me. I knew then that I might be in possible danger; we were, after all, the only two horses in the stable. He could ask me anything.

But luckily he stayed quiet, munching on his day old hay and watching me. I do the same.