The Lightning Strikes

'What if this storm ends, and I don't see you?' Roisin Clifford is an Irish girl living in Cornwall, with just her mother and her horse. Things are changing, and her mother is starting to lose her mind.


2. 2


"Come on, Zayn,"  laughed, trying to give him a leg up onto Blue's back.

 "He's too smooth. Don't groom him for a month, then ask me." He finally swung his leg over. "Hand." I gripped his arm and, with a grunt, he heaved me up onto my horse's back.

 "The night is blue!" I giggled, nudging my mare. she tossed her head and launched into a smooth trot. "Excuse the pun." I tangled my hands into her mane. We were riding tackless through the moonlight. The field had been raked free of stones and holes the day before.

 Zayn rested his chin on my shoulder and sighed. I have to admit, it was was amazing; riding double through the fields with your two best friends, relying on one of them to keep you safe.

 The moonlight shone through the trees in dapples, making the whole thing more like a fairy tale. The only sound was Blue's hooves beating on the track.

 As she turned the corner, Zayn began to slip. He gave a little squeal and gripped on tighter. Blue, being such a well trained mare, slowed to a walk. Zayn slipped off to land on his arse.

 "Eejit," i laughed. he smiled up at me, the moon illuminating his face, highlighting his high cheekbones. He grabbed my arm and tried to pull me away, but Blue moved under me, knocking him to the ground again.

  "That's not funny! I was going to say, 'Who's the eejit now?' And then your stupid horse outsmarted me." He pretended to pout as I laughed at him. "Bitch." I raised my eyebrows, smirked and squeezed my legs tighter around Blue's belly. She went from a standstill into a fast, bouncy canter.

 I looked over my shoulder and, through my hair, I saw Zayn running, trying to keep up. I gripped harder, and gave her a nudge. She lengthened her stride until she was galloping, her strides eating up the ground.

 I sat back, asking her to slow down. After a few strides, she realised I was serious, and stopped just in front of the fence. I slipped off and began to brush her damp coat as I waited for Zayn to reach us.

 "I hate you," he said breathlessly. "You're some bitch. You and that stupid horse were plotting against me from the start." He patted Blue to show he didn't mean it. I looked at him, and my smile dropped a little. He was rubbing her, but not paying any attention. The look in his eyes told me enough; he was remembering something that he missed.

 I sighed, finished grooming Blue and wrapped my arms around him. He blinked as he came back to the real world.

 "You okay?" I whispered.

 "Yeah." But I felt his tears through my hair. I don't like it when people cry. It makes me want to cry, too. I think it's stupid that guys tend to bottle up their feelings, though.

 "You want hot chocolate? I'll give you marshmallows." I heard a little chuckle from him and smiled. He gave me one last squeeze and pulled back, quickly wiping his eyes.

 "Yes, please. That's be great." He kissed my forehead and began to put Blue's rug on. I helped and we walked inside together.

 After our mugs of coca, we padded, in bare feet to my room. "Roisin? Zayn? Where the hell were you?"


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