Maybe Some Flowers

The wooden gate to the stables creaked as Terrence made his way towards his beloved horse Dorothy, holding a bucket of brushes in one hand and a bunch of sugar cubes in the other. Mildred offered to give them to him on the house, bless her heart, but he insisted on paying properly for them. It did take her a few minutes before she finally let him, though. God, it was moments like those that only made him fall more…

He was able to catch himself before he could further contemplate his complex feelings for the shop assistant, however.

“I do not have the time for this shit,” he muttered— yet heat started to rise to his face, despite his dismissal of the topic. After a few more moments, he barely managed to shake the thought of the interaction out of his head, setting his tools down. 

Grabbing the mane brush, Terrence wasted no time as he started to comb through Dorothy’s mane, giving attention to every knot with a firm delicacy that he had learnt over the years. It was the least he could do for both himself and her, really. After all, it gave his mind and hands something new to focus on— something that wouldn’t make his heart start to palpitate like he’d just worked out for eight hours straight.

Dorothy snorted in contentment as he continued to brush her, but with everything going on in his mind, it almost felt like she was replying to him… but was it encouragement or mockery? Either way, his response was the same.

“I can’t confess this to her. I’d screw up her entire life here, and…” His voice dropped its usual bluntness, in favor of a softer whisper. Nobody else needed to know about this crisis, after all— just him and his horse. “She doesn’t deserve that.”

Dorothy shifted on her feet, looking over to him with a sympathy clear in her eyes. He didn’t even know before today that a horse could show this much pity towards a person.

“And besides, what if she found out about everything? I’d just get run out of here again, just like every other town. I’ve been working so damn hard to build this life for myself, and I’m not letting it fall apart over a crush.”

With a gentle nod of her head, Dorothy seemed to accept this answer… but Terrence could barely accept his own words. He’d always been so sure of himself, even when it came to the most unsure choices— so what was it about Mildred that made that all fall apart in an instant?

He put away the brush in his hands, kneeling for a few moments as he contemplated what to do from here. He had to do something soon or this’d all come exploding out of him against his will, which would inevitably be even worse than outright confessing.

“…Maybe I’ll get her some flowers.”

Dorothy snorted again, and this time, the message was clear— you’ll do more than that, and you know it.

“Oh, shut up.” He couldn’t help but laugh a bit, and with a final pat to his horse’s muzzle, he left the stables and started to head back to the General Shop. He had a few things to plan.