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Lio again said nothing, looking down at his feet as his face grew hot.
The moment hung heavily between them, then, finally, Tarick said, “Ah.”
Lio fought not to flinch.
“Are these all for me? You truly do spoil me, boy.”
He peaked up to see Tarick's rigid, square face, made gentle with his smile, buried in the mess of greenery as he inhaled. “They smell wonderful, love.”
Lio preened at the endearment, reddening further, and admitted, “I thought they smell of you.”
“And do you like the smell of me?” Tarick’s tone was teasing.
“Right now you smell of horse,” he blurted bluntly, shooting an anxious glance towards the mare when it took the smallest of steps backward then forward. Obviously ferocious.
Tarick burst out laughing.
Lio frowned.
When Tarick seemed to collect himself, he moved the bouquet to be strapped in his belt. It was so swift, so seamless, like he’d always meant to do the gesture and that was exactly what belts were made for. Like it belonged there. Like he’d been waiting for it. The man had a knack for moving about a scene, easing Lio, setting the stammer of his heart right.
“Come, boy. Step forward. You’ll smell of horse, too.” Tarick gestured for him to come closer, a playful light to his eyes.
Lio stepped forward the tiniest of bits. Did he mean to embrace Lio?
But when firm hands came to his waist, they lifted, not held. It took a moment for Lio to figure out what was happening, but by then it was far, far too late.
Lio nearly kicked the horse in an effort to stay away from it. It was only with the faint voice of self-preservation, telling him the horse would retaliate by attacking him and eating him, that he was able to govern his actions.
Tarick tutted. “Come now, you’d think this sweet girl is scarier than the beasts of Diagor!”
Lio said nothing to this, but was eventually placed onto the mare’s back, his nerves alight.
Even though Tarick was grinning, his orders were calm and focused. Helpful. “Relax. Breathe with me. It’s okay, see how happy she is.”
The mare didn’t look ‘happy’ one way or the other, but at least she didn’t throw Lio off the moment he mounted her.
Lio tried to relax and breathe with Tarick.
“Good. Now take my hand.” The Diagorian’s palm eclipsed Lio’s digits. He brought it to the horse's smooth neck. “And stroke her. Slowly. With consistent speed. Horses like consistency.”
Lio did as he was told. Soon, he was no longer shaking in fear, but relaxing into the touch. Tarick pulled away, allowing Lio to make a connection with the steed.
Then Tarick grabbed the reins.
Lio immediately tensed.
But they set out at the pace of a leisurely walk. It was unhurried and easy, and eventually grew into…nice.
Tarick spoke openly, chattering away as Lio focused on not disgruntling his ride. But eventually, he found himself again relaxing enough to open up as well. He spoke about his home of Suscon, and though things must have sounded strange to the Diagorian, he showed no signs of it. Instead, everything was interesting and positive to him. He never judged the traditions or why they were done.
At the end, after he dismounted, he found himself facing the man.
Tarick was all soft smiles, patient, as he waited for Lio to set the pace—forhimto figuratively take the reins, as Lio had requested.
“Well,” Tarick said softly, “What does one who courts say after a nice ride and chat?”
If Lio could will himself not to blush, he would. “I…I like you, T-Tarick.”
