in working walk, down the centre line to X, halt and salute.
Any ground I gained speaking with Jess, completely lost now she is here. Around the corner, he stops and I have my back to the wall slumped against its hard surface. Silence, just a dark powerful glare, he is so close I can smell his hair and feel his hot breath on my face, I weaken at the sight of him, I can barely let out a sound “Daniel.” I try, but all I manage is a choked whisper, not sure what I would have said anyway.
Half-pass across the arena to H.
But before I can say anything Daniel lifts his hand to me, I flinch away from him in an instinctive defensive move, and a deep look of hurt fills his eyes, and he puts his finger gently across my lips to quiet me. “I’m so sorry,” I mumble through his attempt to stop me saying anything.
Ride a 20 metre circle at B, collected canter.
Dressage, I feel the need to explain, is like maths to me. When I need to focus, I do a tricky task in my head, some people do long division, some the square root of 76, me? Dressage. Does that explain it for now?
Bending down toward me I expect a light touch of his lips but he kisses me hard, breathing heavily into me, devouring me with his mouth. “I miss you baby, please” he breathes, “Please don’t leave me.” He hisses in whisper. Kissing again our tongues flicking in and out of each other’s mouths, engaged and enticing. All at once I am back in the world, I can remember what it’s like to feel. He kisses me, biting my lip, licking over my bottom lip and trailing hot kisses down my neck. “You are everything to me,” he breathes.
Taking my wrists firmly in both hands he raises them up above my head locking them there while his lips and tongue swallow me deeper still, he is fucking my mouth, our tongues sliding around each other’s in a frenzy, I can’t move, I don’t want to move, I’m at his mercy and I like it.
Tea?
As an addict, I crave and yearn, just the slightest touch of him, the smell of him satisfies a greater need inside me to consume him more, to be taken over and find myself again, because I have been lost. Finally I can take no more, and sobbing great heaving lungful’s of air I slide down the wall to the floor between his legs, almost consumed by my Vivienne Westwood phenomenal black dress. The woman is a genius. I don't want to talk, I just want to kiss him, feel his body against mine, and swirl around like a princess in my beautiful dress, who wouldn’t? Good question. He crouches down beside me, shaking a thought away from his own mind for a second I see a deep hurting there, “I was sick with jealousy when I saw you Tharie,” he tries to keep his mask on but he's hurting and angry, “I saw you with my brother, you two looked intimate.” He looks sadly at me, “and it made me insane, I thought you'd run from me, that I’d lost you.” I just shake my head, men. True story.
“Your Brother asked me to dance,” I tell him quietly and calmly, impressed because I don’t feel either of those things, then it occurs to me this might be the longest conversation the two of us have had recently. I shake the thought away like a pesky fly buzzing my head “I wouldn’t have met him at all if you’d have been here.” I say in a soft voice that I don’t feel, I put my hand on his cheek, “but you needed to be somewhere else remember?” He winces. But this is my opportunity to tell him everything, it’s too important to hold it in. less said soonest mended? That's the key to a mental episode.
I'm suddenly hungry again.
I had decided not to confront him on the Jess issue, I don’t want to hear what happened, I just want his lips on mine, his hands on me, inside me. I lean into him my head raised. He leaves me hanging there yearning for him, waiting. I look at his face, confusion, dissipating anger, calming...love? “I was telling an old friend goodbye Tharie,” he brushes a stray strand of hair from my face, “she's not in my life any-more.”
“She sent me