Vexing Horse Twerp

You smiled a little despite yourself. “I wasn’t.”

“Liar.”

She cracked one eye open and gave you a lazy, crooked grin — somehow both teasing and vulnerable.“Mm... you’re thinking too loud.”

You let out a breathless, humorless little laugh. “I’m sorry.”

You rolled over to face her, burying your face in the pillow for a second before looking up at her. “I have to go back eventually.”

Sabine hummed thoughtfully, brushing a thumb along your cheekbone. "Eventually is not right now."

And just like that, she pulled you closer again, legs tangling with yours under the blanket. You let yourself be selfish for a little longer, hiding your face against her neck.

Minutes passed like that — slow, stolen, full of things you both weren’t saying.

Finally, Sabine spoke, voice low and deliberate: "When you walk back into that stable, they're going to look at you like you're the enemy."

You stiffened, and she felt it. Her hand smoothed circles over your back.

"They're going to question everything you are. Everything you've done." She tilted your chin up gently so you had to look at her. "But I won't."

Something inside you cracked a little at the steadiness in her gaze.

"You're mine now," she murmured, a wicked smirk playing at her lips — but her thumb still traced so softly over your skin, betraying something deeper. "They just haven't figured it out yet."

You huffed a laugh, blinking back the sting in your eyes.

"You're insufferable," you whispered.

"And you're reckless," she said, leaning in until her forehead touched yours. "Perfect match."

The sun kept climbing outside, burning away the last softness of night, and you knew you couldn't hide here forever.

“I still have to face them.”

Sabine sighed dramatically, flopping onto her back like you’d just sentenced her to death. “Fine. Go be noble. Be tragic.” She threw an arm over her eyes in mock agony. “Leave me here to wither away without your charming company.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your mouth.

Then her hand darted out, snatching your wrist, pulling you half on top of her with a grin that was all teeth and danger. “Or…” she murmured, lips ghosting over your jawline, “stay. Just a little longer.”

You bit your lip, torn.

Outside, the city was slowly waking up. Horses nickering, carts rattling over cobblestone, a distant bell chiming the hour. Reality was clawing at the door.

But Sabine's warmth, her reckless affection, her impossible magnetism — it all wrapped around you like a net you weren’t sure you wanted to escape.

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to her collarbone, feeling her pulse jump beneath your lips.

“Five more minutes,” you whispered.

Sabine's chuckle was low and victorious as she tightened her arms around you. “You’re terrible at saying no to me, you know that?”

The sun kept climbing outside, burning away the last softness of night, and you knew you couldn't hide here forever.

But for now — for just a little longer — you let yourself belong to her.

Because when the world turned against you, at least Sabine would be right there at your side.

Even if it all ended in fire. Especially if it did.

You shifted under the covers, letting your fingers trace idle patterns across Sabine’s bare shoulder, the morning still soft and forgiving around you.

She smirked at the touch but didn’t open her eyes, just let out a lazy sigh. “You’re thinking again,” she murmured.

“You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“It is,” Sabine said, voice scratchy with sleep, “when it pulls you out of bed before I’m finished with you.”

You laughed quietly, resting your forehead against her collarbone. "You’re insatiable."

She cracked one eye open, a gleam of mischief hidden there. "You’re just slow to catch up."

You nudged her playfully with your knee. "I’m not slow. I’m... considerate."

"Mm," she hummed, running her fingers through your hair like she had all the time in the world. "So considerate you practically kissed me back in front of half the Soul Riders."

You groaned into her skin, mortified all over again. "Can we not talk about that?"

Sabine chuckled — low and wicked — and tilted your chin up so you had to meet her eyes. "No, love. I think we have to talk about it. Because it was glorious."

You shoved at her half-heartedly and she caught your wrists easily, pulling you closer, rolling you onto your back with a slow, deliberate shift of weight. Her hair fell around your face like a curtain, and the look she gave you was equal parts amusement and something a little sharper — something dangerously fond.

"I’m proud of you," she murmured, mouth brushing yours. "You chose chaos. You chose me."

You smiled despite yourself, breath catching when she kissed the corner of your mouth, slow and lingering.

"I didn’t exactly have a plan," you admitted.

"You didn’t need one," Sabine said, kissing the edge of your jaw. "You have terrible instincts. But lucky for you…" she nipped lightly at your earlobe, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips, "I happen to like terrible instincts."

You threaded your fingers into her hair, tugging gently to pull her back enough to look at her. "You’re such a bad influence."

"And you," Sabine grinned, "are delicious when you’re guilty."

You flushed under her gaze, the way she said it — like you were something to be devoured.

For a few blissful moments, you let her kiss you again, slow and unhurried this time, a lazy mapping of lips and hands that promised the day could wait just a little longer. The world could wait.

Because here — tangled up in rumpled sheets, in the tangle of each other — you weren’t the Soul Rider who had betrayed her friends, or the reckless fool standing at the edge of a war.

Here, you were just hers.

And god, it was getting harder to want anything else.

For a few blissful moments, you let her kiss you again, slow and unhurried this time, a lazy mapping of lips and hands that promised the day could wait just a little longer. The world could wait.

Because here — tangled up in rumpled sheets, in the tangle of each other — you weren’t the Soul Rider who had betrayed her friends, or the reckless fool standing at the edge of a war.

Here, you were just hers.

And god, it was getting harder to want anything else.

But the morning didn’t wait forever. Eventually, the light grew brighter through the window, and reality began pressing at the edges of your little stolen world. Sabine pulled back slightly, brushing her nose against yours.

"Big day," she murmured, thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. "You gonna come watch me be amazing?"

You smiled weakly, nerves already starting to coil in your stomach. "Wouldn't miss it."

Sabine pressed one last kiss to your forehead — gentle, almost reverent — before reluctantly sliding out of bed, stretching like a cat in the early light.

And just like that, the spell broke.

You dressed slowly after she left, pulling on the most inconspicuous outfit you could find. Hoodie. Jeans. Nothing that would catch the eye. Nothing that would draw attention.

You just had to get through the day without setting yourself — or everything you cared about — on fire.

Easier said than done.

Sabine was competing today. You sat in the stands at the edge of the arena, as far from the others as you could get without seeming like you were trying to vanish completely. The Soul Riders were grouped on the opposite side, all polished boots and pristine posture, and you couldn’t take the glares from Anne and Alex—or worse, the lingering, pitiful glances from Linda.

You hadn’t bothered dressing up, either. No glittering jacket, no crisp riding pants. Just your regular clothes, a hoodie and jeans, trying to disappear into the shadows of the crowd.

The arena buzzed with quiet anticipation as the competitors warmed up below, their horses trotting in graceful arcs under the morning sun. You stared down at the sandy ring, pretending your stomach wasn’t in knots.

Then—bright red hair, unmistakable even in your peripheral vision—Lisa. She climbed the stairs with easy strides and plopped down right next to you like it was any other day.

“Hey,” she said, her tone warm but cautious.

“Hi,” you replied, voice barely above a murmur.

“I, uh… talked to the girls last night. Heard about what happened.”

You gave a small, humorless laugh. “Come to lecture me then?”

“No,” she said firmly. “Not my style.”

Lisa leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she glanced out toward the arena where Sabine’s club was beginning their warmup lap. The sunlight gleamed off the polished leather of their tack, all matching, pristine, and sharp. Sabine was at the center of it, her presence magnetic, confident. You couldn’t stop watching her—even if you wanted to.

Lisa nudged you gently with her shoulder. “I came because you looked like you needed someone on your side.”

You blinked, surprised. “That obvious, huh?”

“Kind of hard to miss the exile corner over here,” she teased, but her smile was soft, not cruel. “And the outfit? Screams ‘I don’t care,’ but I know you. That’s the emergency hoodie of emotional damage.”

You let out a weak laugh despite yourself, tugging at the sleeve of said hoodie. “It was clean. And comfortable.”

Lisa’s smile faltered a little as her eyes searched your face. “You okay?”

You blinked at her, surprised.

“No one else seemed interested in that part of the story huh,” she continued, glancing across the arena where Anne and Alex sat stiffly, arms crossed and expressions carved from granite. Linda sat a little apart, her gaze distant, fingers twitching like she was writing out thoughts she wasn’t ready to say aloud.

You shrugged, eyes fixed on the riders warming up below. “I’m fine.”

Lisa snorted. “You don’t look fine.”

“I don’t feel fine,” you admitted, voice lower now. “But I also don’t feel sorry.”

Lisa was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “Good.”

You turned to her sharply.

She met your gaze with a shrug. “I’m not saying I get it. I don’t. But I’ve seen what happens when people try to bottle themselves up to fit the Soul Rider mold. It doesn’t end well.”

You didn’t say anything, but your gaze drifted back down to the arena. Sabine had just finished a spin, her horse collected and elegant beneath her. She adjusted her posture with that unbothered grace you knew too well—like the world couldn’t touch her.

“She’s good,” Lisa said simply, following your gaze. “Like, really good. It’s annoying.”

“She is,” you agreed, voice quiet.

“Do you love her?” The question came out gentle, but direct—Lisa never wasted time.

Your throat tightened. You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you watched as Sabine guided her horse into a perfect side pass, every movement calculated and beautiful.

“I don’t know what I feel,” you said at last. “It’s not safe. It’s reckless. It’s—stupid.”

“But it’s real,” Lisa said.

You turned to look at her, and she gave you a small nod. “Yeah. I can see it.”

There was a long pause. The crowd around you clapped for another rider’s finish. Lisa leaned back in her seat, arms crossed as she looked toward the Soul Riders on the opposite side of the stands.

“They’re mad,” she said. “Anne, especially. Alex... well, she’s Alex. But Linda? She’s not angry. She’s scared.”

Your brow furrowed. “Scared?”

“She thinks you’re slipping away. And she doesn’t know how to pull you back without breaking something.”

You bit your lip, your hands curling tighter in your lap.

“But me?” Lisa said. “I think... you don’t need to be pulled back. Maybe you just need someone to sit next to you while you figure it out.”

Then she hesitated. “And hey… if it ever gets too much, if you need someone… I’m around. No lectures. Just support.”

You looked at her again—really looked—and for the first time in days, something loosened in your chest.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

Below, the bell rang, and Sabine and Khaan entered the ring like it belonged to them. Like they had nothing to prove and everything to win.

Aideen help you, she looked so sexy.

It was borderline unfair—the way she moved with such sharp, effortless confidence, every inch of her perfectly composed atop Khaan’s obsidian frame. The burgundy jacket hugged her waist like it was made for sin, her posture regal, commanding. That smug little half-smile she wore? Infuriating. Devastating. And you hated how your heart flipped every time she glanced toward your side of the stands like she knew exactly where you were sitting.

She did. Of course she did.

Khaan danced beneath her like a shadow made of muscle and fire, every movement crisp and precise as they slid into their opening sequence. Sabine didn’t ride like she was trying to win. She rode like she expected to win. Like it would be an insult for the judges not to hand her the blue ribbon outright.

And as much as you hated the way your body reacted—every nerve lit up, heat coiling deep inside your belly—you couldn’t deny it.

She was intoxicating.

You felt Lisa glance sideways at you again.

“Oh my god,” she murmured under her breath, half-laughing. “You’re so gone for her.”

You dropped your face into your hands. “Please don’t say it out loud.”

Lisa just laughed harder. “Girl, it’s written all over your face.”

And down in the ring, as Sabine passed near the edge closest to you, her head tilted just slightly. Her gaze slid up. Found you. Locked in.

And then she winked.

You thought you might combust on the spot.

Lisa let out a low whistle. “You’re screwed.”

Yeah. You really, really were.

The applause was thunderous. Well—thunderous for a regional event. But still, it roared in your ears as Sabine brought Khaan to a smooth, effortless halt at the center of the arena. He tossed his head once, dramatic as always, and Sabine gave a single nod toward the judges’ stand like she’d just completed a royal decree, not a competition round.

Lisa leaned back beside you, arms crossed and grinning. “She ate. No crumbs.”

You were too busy trying to keep your hands from shaking. Because even now, Sabine hadn’t stopped looking at you. As if this whole damn performance had been for your benefit. As if she knew exactly what she was doing—how she lit you up just by existing.

You tried to be subtle as your gaze followed her out of the ring. She dismounted with grace that should’ve been illegal, murmuring something low to Khaan as she led him out. And then, just before she vanished through the barn doors, she turned.

One last glance.

One small, knowing smile.

And then she disappeared.

“Are you gonna go talk to her?” Lisa asked, gently nudging your shoulder. “Or do you need me to drag you down there by your hoodie strings?”

You snorted, cheeks flushing. “I can’t. The girls—”

Lisa raised a brow. “The girls already know. You think they’re not watching you right now to see if you sneak off again? Plus Linda has had her fair share of flirting with Jay I must say so kinda hypocritical."

You stopped in your tracks, turning to stare at Lisa like she’d just dropped a live grenade in your lap.

“What?”

Lisa shrugged, all nonchalance as she picked at the fraying seam of her jacket sleeve. “What, you didn’t know that? Linda and Jay had this weird thing going on for, like, a minute. It was very... enemies-to-academic-rivals-to-flirty-staring-contests. Honestly? I’m still not sure if they hated each other or wanted to kiss.”

You blinked, mouth half open. “You’re joking.”

“Nope.” Lisa popped the 'p' smugly. “So if anyone tries to sit on a moral high horse about you and Sabine? Remind them they don’t exactly have a perfect record, either.”

You sat back down heavily, mind reeling.

Lisa bumped her shoulder into yours lightly. “You’re allowed to want stupid, reckless things sometimes. You’re human. Just don’t pretend you’re not.”

You stared down at your hands for a long moment, heart hammering all over again for a very different reason.

Maybe you weren’t the only one who’d gotten tangled up in something messy and a little bit beautiful.

You looked up just in time to see Sabine reappear near the barn entrance, brushing dust off her jacket, Khaan’s reins slung loosely over her shoulder.

And Aideen help you, she looked damn good.

You stood again. This time without hesitation.

Lisa gave you a lazy salute. “Go get your girl.”

You let out a quiet laugh under your breath, heart lighter than it had been all day, and pushed yourself up from the bleacher seat. You moved down the steps, weaving through the crowd, until you spotted Sabine near the far side of the arena.

She stood by Khaan’s stall, peeling off his tack with the kind of smooth, practiced ease that only made her look even more unfairly good. Sunlight caught the edges of her dark hair, making her look like something straight out of a daydream.

You leaned casually against the post beside them, feeling a little braver now. “Hi. You did good out there.”

Sabine glanced over her shoulder at you, a slow smile curling across her lips. “Hey, pretty girl,” Sabine’s voice was low, smooth as dark wine, and it slid right beneath your skin, setting every nerve alight. She glanced up at you through her lashes as she loosened Khaan’s girth, that lazy, devastating half-smile curving her lips.

She slid Khaan’s saddle off with a practiced flick of her wrist, muscles flexing beneath the sleek burgundy jacket she hadn't bothered to take off yet. She looked unfairly good—smug and beautiful and so devastatingly confident it made your knees feel like water.

You fought the urge to fidget under her gaze as she approached, wiping her hands lazily on a rag before tossing it aside. She stopped a breath away, tilting her head as she took you in—hoodie, jeans, messy hair and all.

"You're hiding again," Sabine said, soft but teasing. "Thought we agreed you didn't have to."

You opened your mouth—whether to argue or admit she was right, you weren't even sure—but she just laughed quietly under her breath. And then, with deliberate slowness, she hooked a finger into the front of your hoodie and tugged you closer.

"You look good," she murmured. Her voice dropped even lower. "Missed you."

You swallowed hard, heart slamming against your ribs. "You saw me like—six hours ago."

Sabine shrugged, utterly unbothered, like she hadn't just shattered your composure with two words. "Still missed you."

You couldn't stop the small, breathless laugh that escaped. God, you were so screwed.

She leaned in like she meant to kiss you—and then at the last second, she brushed her lips against your temple instead. A touch so fleeting it burned. “ Let me finish untacking, yeah?”

You nodded and for a few minutes, she moved around quietly. Sabine tugged off Khaan’s boots, talking softly to him under her breath, brushing the dust off his sides with quick, efficient strokes. You watched her hands more than anything—the surety of them. The easy strength.

After a while, she glanced up and caught you staring.

"What’s that look for?" she teased lightly, setting the brush aside and leaning back against the stall wall. "You making heart eyes at my horse?"

You flushed, looking away. "Maybe a little."

Sabine laughed under her breath—a real one this time, not the sharp-edged kind she usually wore around others. It warmed something deep in your chest.

Then, softer: "Lisa was sitting with you."

You blinked, surprised she’d noticed. "Yeah. She kind of... showed up."

Sabine nodded like she was considering that carefully. Her fingers brushed idly against Khaan's mane, but her sharp eyes stayed on you.

"She good to you?" she asked after a beat. Voice casual, but not really casual.

"Yeah," you said, a little surprised at how easily the word came. "She’s... she’s been better than I expected."

Sabine tilted her head, a slow smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Good," she said. "You deserve that."

The simplicity of it—no jealousy, no edge, just quiet approval—made your throat tighten.

You shuffled your feet a little, feeling the sudden weight of emotion in the space between you.

"She said I looked like a disaster," you muttered, trying to lighten the mood. "Called this my 'emotional damage hoodie.'"

Sabine’s laugh was low and wicked. "She’s not wrong," she said, reaching out to tug lightly at your sleeve. "But you make it look cute."

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered anyway.

Sabine let her hand linger on your wrist, thumb brushing a slow, soothing circle against your pulse point.

"You gonna be okay?" she asked, finally. Not teasing. Real.

You hesitated. Then, in a small voice: "I think so."

Sabine smiled like you’d just won a battle she knew how hard you’d fought.

"Good," she murmured. Then, with a grin, "Because it’d be really annoying if I had to fight half the Soul Riders over you."

You laughed—choked and surprised and real—and before you could think better of it, you leaned into her, head bumping gently against her shoulder.

Sabine shifted without hesitation, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Khaan snorted behind you both, unimpressed.

You stayed like that for a long moment, tucked against her side, listening to the slow, steady beat of her heart.

Sabine’s voice broke the quiet, low and almost conversational:

"Hey, you know what's interesting to me?" she murmured. "Linda."

You blinked up at her.

"Alex and Anne were being bitches—" she said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world—"and you’d expect Linda to be the same. Or maybe more like Lisa, acting all sweet but still thinking you’re dirt."

You huffed a laugh, but Sabine wasn't really joking.

"But Linda..." Sabine’s brows knit together slightly, thoughtful. "She seemed... almost guilty."

You pulled back just enough to see her face properly. She wasn’t sneering, wasn’t teasing. Just watching you carefully, like the thought genuinely bothered her.

Maybe she is guilty," you said quietly, after a beat. "Maybe they all are, a little."

"You wanna know why?" Sabine asked, her voice dropping low, practically purring.

You blinked at her. "What?"

Sabine’s mouth curved into a vicious little smile, like she couldn’t wait to ruin your day just a tiny bit.

"Because I caught her with Jay once," she murmured, voice rich with wicked delight. "Real cozy. Real guilty. And I’m about ninety-nine percent sure they fucked."

You reeled back. "What?"

Sabine laughed under her breath, a dark, throaty sound. "Yeah. Saw them sneaking out of the archives once. Linda looked like she was about to pass out, and Jay—" she paused, tilting her head, pretending to think. "Jay looked like she just won a damn prize."

You stared at her, horrified and fascinated all at once. "No way."

Sabine leaned back against the stall wall, arms crossed, radiating smugness. "Way too much tension to be nothing. Linda was red as a beet and Jay looked like the cat who ate the canary. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“ Oh my god Sabine!”

“Bet Linda's still trying to pray that away. Poor thing. Must suck realizing you’re not as pure as you pretend to be."

You half-choked on a laugh, covering your mouth in shock. "You're evil."

Sabine grinned wider, smug. "I know what I saw, pretty girl."

For a second, you just stared at her—the dark humor, the casual cruelty, the reckless honesty—and somehow it made you feel lighter.

Sabine nudged your foot lightly with hers. "Don’t waste your tears on people who broke their own rules before you ever did."

You glanced over at her, feeling warmth pool in your chest again—not just from the ridiculous image of Linda and Jay sneaking around like scandalized teenagers, but from the steady, grounding way Sabine kept pulling you back to yourself. Not judging. Not demanding. Just there.

"You're ridiculous," you muttered, smiling into your sleeve.

Sabine grinned back, unapologetic. "And you love it."

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t deny it.

Sabine shrugged, her smirk not fading. "I mean, anyway... I been sitting on that for a while. Up to you what you do with it."

You stared at her, still half-shocked, half-morbidly fascinated, like you couldn’t decide if you wanted to laugh or throw something at her.

Sabine tilted her head lazily, studying your face with something almost close to fondness. "Don’t look at me like that," she said, flicking a bit of hay off her boot. "I’m not the one who let the honor student get wrecked in a broom closet."

You spluttered, actually choking this time. "Oh my god—"

She just laughed, low and rich and shameless. "What? I'm wrong?"

You buried your burning face in your hands, groaning. "I didn't need that visual!"

Sabine only laughed harder, stepping close enough that her knee brushed against yours where you sat perched on the edge of the hay pile. She leaned down, her voice dropping into a purr right by your ear.

"Bet you’re picturing it anyway," she murmured, wicked and knowing.

You shoved her lightly, face on fire, but Sabine caught your wrist easily, grinning down at you.

"Relax," she said, her thumb brushing lazily over your knuckles. "You're way more fun to corrupt."

And with that, she let go with a shrug, sauntering over to Khaan to brush him down like she hadn’t just verbally drop-kicked you into the abyss.

You were left sitting there, heart hammering, cheeks burning, and somehow—despite everything—you smiled.

You sat there for a moment after she walked off, still reeling, still burning.

Sabine worked in easy, practiced motions, brushing down Khaan, murmuring low praise to him like there wasn’t a single thing wrong in the world. Like she hadn’t just upended your entire perception of the Soul Riders with a few careless, devastating words.

You didn’t know what to do with any of it. With Linda. With yourself. With her.

But somehow, sitting here, tucked away in the corner of the world with hay sticking to your hoodie and the scent of leather and dust thick in the air... it didn’t feel as heavy as it had yesterday. Or the day before.

Maybe it was the way Sabine existed — sharp, untouchable, fearless — like nothing could chain her down if she didn’t want it to.

Maybe it was how she didn’t expect you to be perfect to stay.

She glanced over her shoulder again, caught you watching her. Smirked — like she knew every ugly, aching thought rattling inside you and didn’t care about any of it.

“You coming, or you just gonna sit there thinking about Lisa and Jay?” she teased, one brow cocked.

You rolled your eyes, dragging yourself up off the hay pile, brushing yourself off half-heartedly. “You’re the worst.”

Sabine flashed you a grin, slow and wicked. “Yeah, but you like it.”

You hated how true that was.

Still smiling that crooked, cocky smile, she reached out, hooked a finger through one of your belt loops, and tugged you closer.

“C’mon, pretty girl," she said, voice low and easy. "Let’s blow this place."

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like running away.

You just followed her out into the sun.