Dare You To Love Me

«1» an unspoken connection

Her lashes fluttered, caught in a momentary trance, before she found her voice, its timbre wavering slightly as she whispered, "Yes, it truly is."

"Apologies if I've startled you," the stranger's voice resonated with a rich, melodic tone, as he began to walk into the stables. "I didn't mean to intrude."

His voice, his appearance, everything about him held her captive, rendering her tongue-tied and lost in the magnetism that seemed to pull them closer, or was it just her?

Gathering herself, she managed a polite smile and replied, "No, not at all. I was simply lost in my thoughts."

Each step he took resonated with purpose, his horse moving in sync with him as he guided it back to its stall with an easy familiarity.

His lips curved once more, a soft smile that mirrored the sun's warmth, as he turned to fix her with his attention yet again, and for a second Yaseerah wondered what it felt like to smile this freely with someone you've only just met.

"Thoughts can be both friend and foe, can't they?" His voice held the comforting depth of someone who had known sorrow and surmounted it.

Caught in the swirling emotions between them, Yaseerah could only nod, suddenly feeling self-conscious about the clothes she was wearing.

Yaseerah had always chosen to come here at 7 am, when the stables were empty, because the last thing she wanted was to engage with strangers. Yet, there was something about him that made her want to converse with him, when she'd normally ignore the other riders she met.

"I couldn't help but notice your deep connection with these magnificent creatures. I've seen enough riders and their horses, but the harmony between you two...it's a rarity to witness."

Yaseerah felt her cheeks flush with self-consciousness, his compliment touching her deeply, and captivating her even more.

Her voice was soft but resonant with genuine passion when she responded. "Horses have the ability to reach parts of my heart that words cannot. They are far more affectionate than most people think."

"Indeed," he nodded, his voice softening with a hint of nostalgia, as he glanced back at his own mare.

"May I ask your name?" he inquired, turning his gaze back to her.

A long moment passed between his question and her response, as if she had been weighing the decision of whether to reveal her name or not.

What's the harm in telling him my name? She mused inwardly. It's just a name, after all.

Knowing her name didn't mean anything.

"Yaseerah," she finally answered, her voice steady as she returned her gaze back to Arzu who nudged her shoulder with her muzzle, making Yaseerah's lips curve into a fond smile.

"Yaseerah," he repeated, as if he was savoring the weight and melody of her name. "What a beautiful name. Fulan at your service."

"Fulan?" she queried, tilting her head to the side, as she silently contemplated his name.

Unless her Arabic was failing her–which was highly impossible–his name translated to 'someone'. How any parent could name their child that, baffled her, but Yaseerah had heard weirder names.

Still, it kept her wondering. "That's an unusual name."

"It is." A flicker of unease played across his features as he nodded, and for a second, Yaseerah feared she might have offended him.

Her lips parted, wanting to apologize and tell him that she actually liked his name, but the words died down in her throat, when his phone suddenly rang, interrupting the silent bubble they found themselves in.