The Trail to Love and Loss

Daya

Seeing Patrick like this was killing me. He was like an empty void. Nothing went in, nothing came out. I tried my best to be there for him, but he didn't seem to want me around. I took to spending more and more time in the stable with Athalia and Misty Light, who had long since found their way back to the cabin.

Patrick continued to help me learn to speak English, though I could tell his heart was not in it. I followed his parents around too, listening to them talk and watching their lips as they formed their words. This was helpful to me in many ways, and I was learning quicker now.

I was sitting cross legged next to Misty Light, stroking her mane absentmindedly when Patrick found me. He walked into the stable, his eyes looking less vacant than usual. I glanced up at him, taking in his disheveled appearance. He crossed the room in three long strides and reached down to me, gripping my hands in his. He pulled me up and wrapped his arm around my waist, tugging me to him.

I gasped in surprise and his lips were on mine in a flash. My eyes widened, before closing in pleasure as he pulled our bodies closer together. He crushed me into his embrace and I gasped again, but this time in pain. I brushed the pain away; this felt too good to stop. His calloused hands tripped their way around my body. One hand had me pinned in place, the pressure in the small of my back never ceasing. The other hand wandered carelessly about. It started at my thigh, dragging up to my hip, across my stomach and trailing up my side. They briefly tickled my collarbone before running behind my ear and into my hair. I pressed my body into his harder, kissing him with more ferocity than ever before.

Patrick stepped back every once in a while, all the while pulling me with him and still kissing me. He suddenly whipped me around, pushing me backwards. I felt my back hit the wooden wall of the stable, his body crushing me even more, pushing me painfully into the wood. He used his hands to hold himself up, one hand on either side of my head. His head was bowed as he stooped to kiss me again. I didn't stop him still. It had been so long since he had last kissed me, I never wanted this moment to end.

But soon it did. Patrick pulled away, pushing off the wall and backtracking to give me room to stand. I leaned against the wall, catching my breath and gazing into his eyes. They were filled with longing, like it pained him to stop himself. I was certain that my eyes showed the same emotions.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Kiss me again," I sighed. He bent his head forward, bringing his lips down to meet mine once again. It was a soft kiss, nothing like what we had just done; it was barely a brush. But that brush was enough. My pulse fluttered; I felt the blush rushing into my cheeks. His breath was hot on my face and I felt a shiver run its path up my back. I gulped slightly, reaching my fingers up to twine them into his soft hair. He ran a hand gently down my head and back, smoothing my hair down as he went.

"I love you, you know that right?" he exhaled into my ear, tickling the little baby hairs along my neck.

"I know. I love you, too," I nestled my head into the crook of his neck, sighing contentedly. We stood there for a while, no noise except for the sound of our breathing. The horses were strangely silent. I breathed in his smell, taking it in and holding it there, not wanting to lose it.

When he finally pulled away, I saw the life returning into his lately dim eyes. The spark blazed; no longer a sputtering flame, but a roaring fire.

I slipped my hand into his and pulled him back toward the cabin, ready to go to bed for the night. He followed me, not looking at Sarah's grave as we passed it. I felt a growing sense of warmth inside me blossom as we entered the cabin. I stopped in the main room, looking around. Patrick turned to face me and took both of my hands in his. He took a few steps backward, pulling me with him. His parents didn't seem to notice us enter. He continued to pull me toward his room, grinning like mad. He used his foot to nudge the door closed and turned to face me.