Taming His Stallion [BWWM]

35_Harmony

And so, the episode slipped past all barriers with minimal resistance, again and again, doing laps about my mind for the umpteenth time since the incident.

That was three nights ago.

Absently running my hand along the crown of my hair, I surveyed the area briefly, wondering what I was doing. Not only that, but the action also jarred loose a cherished memory. Something so simple, apparently trivial, that now ground my gears.

Danny would glide his hand over the crown of my head in a similar manner, until he hooked his thumb behind my ear and forefinger beneath my chin, before drawing me in painstakingly slow for a kiss.

I relished that feeling and longed to go back there, be in his arms, and never leave the room. It took everything within me not to call him up, apologize profusely and ask him to come over. But the notion of inadequacy sunk deeper, barring me from relenting.

What good would that do if my word–I–would never be enough for him? The cycle of mistrust would just be doomed to repeat itself again.

I would quicker mope around than allow myself to be undermined at every turn. Especially by the man's ex. And now, choice seemed to be out of the equation.

Surely this feeling wouldn't last forever, would it? Why does it feel like an eternity already?

And why had my heartburn intensified over the past few days?

Angel neighed. Probably in protest since I'd paused mid-stroke, scrutinizing the scene thoughtfully amid brushing him down. The question had taken root in my mind. "What?" I replied in a dull tone, half expecting him to give me a practical retort.

When he didn't respond, I resumed the task administering gentle, soothing strokes to the side, much to his apparent delight.

Who do you call to remove heartache? I'm sure many had asked similar questions over the last century.

I wasn't the first and certainly wouldn't be the last. It was a somewhat otherwise comforting notion, though my heart bled for those who'd suffered an analogous fate.

No one had ever got love down to a science. Not yet, at least. Not really. And why was that?

For one it was, unpredictable, incomparable, irrational, and bent the lot of us out of shape. It cut further than the sharpest knife and was explosive enough to leave a gaping hole. It could not be measured or confined. It could squeeze through the tiniest crack and its impact was felt like shockwaves, the world over.

It was a raft adrift at sea that rippled through the ages. To date, nothing tangible had evened out its troughs.

I didn't know many people who were in love. And I knew fewer, who withstood the test of time.

But animals, they seem to have the right idea. They seemed more adept–at least when it came to pairing and mating for life.

Like swans. Or penguins.

Swans generally mate for life, and if they lost their mates, are a lot like humans in their grief. Sometimes, even to the point that they may stay alone.

As for penguins, on the other hand, their courtship is simple enough.

In certain species, the males have been known to flock to coastlines and seek out the perfect pebble for their female counterparts.

Should the female accept, they start a family and relationship that typically spans the breeding season.

However, I read somewhere that a particular pair of Magellanic penguins were observed returning to each other every season for sixteen years.