Ernesto met his quarry’s gaze with a grin, pleased to see that he had grabbed someone’s attention immediately. He slowed his pace, coming to stand before the stallion who had turned towards him at his shout, and let his dark-chocolate gaze drift over the stranger. To his surprise, Ernesto felt almost as if he were looking into the still water of a lake: this man was also handsome, gold, and elegantly built – hell, he even had a charming smile to match. If he had a woman’s heart he might very well have swooned. Before Ernesto could say anything more, however, the other stallion’s mouth opened and the words that fell from his lovely lips were just as surprising and somehow even more beautiful. Out of all the lands he had travelled to and the horses he had met outside of his homeland, there were very few who had spoken in his mother tongue. He had not expected this place to be any different, and yet here was a handsome stranger to prove him wrong. “Oh, señor!” he exclaimed, his grin melting into something more relaxed which curled playfully around his lips. “No podría haber deseado la atención de un hombre más refinado.” How pleasant it was to hear the smooth rhythms of his native tongue, where the lilt to his voice did not sound out of place. Ernesto was also curious, however, and so he continued briefly in the common tongue out of interest. “It’s been a while since I heard my mother-tongue anywhere outside my own head,” he explained, watching the stranger with interest. “I’m Ernesto. Cómo puedo llamarte?” ernesto
heartbreak is savvy and love is a bitch |