An Arms Length Away

His infamous bellow always brought a smile on her face. She would feel her lips part as she heard it, and she would feel a warm feeling buzz inside of her. Though she would go on taking care of the horses, it would stay inside of her head for the rest of the day. If she pondered too heavily on what it meant, she would feel her throat constrict and every fiber on her body contract thinking about the man she had felt feelings for last. The man who had towered over her and made her body shake like a wet dog, the man who had beat her body and bludgeoned her voice.

And when he would see her tending the horses or talking to Daine, he felt something warm inside of himself also. As a slave, he knew better to get close to anyone because they could only be sold away from you. He had all ready made his mistake with one woman. Though he was no longer a slave, there were plenty of other dangers that could keep them apart.

Sometimes they would spend time taking walks or working together and they would just feeling something that neither one of them could explain. There was a thirst, always a thirst, for them to be together all of the time. Yet for a long time, it was a thirst that neither of them explored.

There was so much risk in any relationship that they could possibly have together. They could keep each other at arm's length, if they wanted – they both had the scars to justify it - but the temptation to have more was there for them both, just an arm's reach away. So they succumbed into their temptation, biting into the apple that was their mutual feelings.

He met her up at the stables one morning, deciding to ask her once and for all to be his lover.

''Let me help you with that,'' he said to her.

She looked at him strangely. ''Why would you want to do that?''

He shrugged. ''I have nothing better to do.''

She felt a smile quirk up her face like an inchworm. ''Come here then,'' she said, gesturing to him with her index finger.

He followed, a smile on his own.

Neither of them were sure of which point it happened, but somehow as they walked into the stables their lips found each other.

He pulled away from her, feeling his heart beat in his chest like a hammer. Her eyes widened like two rising suns. For a moment, they stood there in stunned silence as they studied each other's faces.

The last time Onua had let herself love, it had earned her bloody noses and tears shed under the cloak of night. With each slap, kick and punch, her husband had beat to death a piece of his heart. Who was to say that there was some unforeseen dark side of Sarge that she had not yet seen? She may have been older and better equipped to defend herself, but the bruises had never been what it was all about.

''I have to go,'' she said, her eyes to the ground.

''Oh... all right,'' he said. She flinched hearing the disappointment in his voice.

She looked up as he walked away, feeling her heart sink like a drowning boat. She had worked so hard to build up who she was now, and she could not let him take her confidence away from her. Long ago she had sworn to herself that never again would she live in fear, and she would keep that promise to herself at all costs.

Still, as he walked away, one question would not leave her. If she wasn't supposed to be with him though, why could she not stop thinking about him?

When they had kissed, Sarge really thought that it had meant something. The feeling of her lips on his, even just for the moment, was like velvet on his lips; their lips fit together like two pieces in a jigsaw puzzle. He had thought that he was feeling again, when he had never thought he could. Yet would she rip out his heart and stomp it to the ground. Would he be plucked away from her like an unwanted hair?

Years before, he had felt his heart blossom in his chest like a flower too. She had made him feel as light and lithe as a cloud. But then...

He couldn't think about it. He couldn't think about her screams, screams that had stung like the whips that had been so often hurled across his back. He couldn't think about her moans as he heard her with the master across the yard. And he certainly couldn't think about her being thrown away like garbage when she could no longer have any children after the miscarriage she had afterward.

Maybe it was better this way. Maybe he and Onua weren't meant to be. Maybe he wasn't meant to be with anyone.

He had all right life now, and who was he to ruin it? Maybe they could just be friends, like they had been. What was wrong with that, after all?

Yet it wouldn't go away. The thoughts of Onua would not leave him. The sound of her laugh rang in his ears like a bell; the sight of her eyes still floated in his mind like wispy clouds.

''Why don't you ever talk to Sarge anymore?'' Daine asked. ''I thought you liked him.''

Onua looked away and said nothing.

''Onua?''

''Get back to work, Daine,'' she said, with the flick of her wrist.

A shadow passed across her face, as fleeting as the moon. She then went back to mucking out the stalls, leaving Daine alone and confused.

''What happened to you and Onua?'' a Rider asked Sarge one day after practice, his voice tentative.

The boy looked like he had just turned fifteen, with bright red hair and dark green eyes.

''Nothing,'' Sarge said.

''She used to be here all of the time, though,'' he said.

''Rider, get back to your work before I..''

''All right,'' the boy said, before Sarge could say anything else.

As the boy left, Sarge could feel a deep sigh come from deep inside of him.

They ended up crossing paths one day. Shocked, Onua backed away.

''Sarge, I...''

He looked away from her, and she too turned away from him.

''Oh Onua,'' he said. ''I have been...''

She sighed. ''I'm sorry.''

For a moment, they both said nothing.

''I think I'm in love with you,'' Sarge said.

Onua looked up. ''What?''

''I know... I know that you probably don't feel the same but... I...''

Was Sarge blushing? She wondered, looking closer at him. Sarge? Onua felt fear surge through her like a tidal wave, threatening to pull her under. Was this worth the risk? Were those three words worth the risk?

''I love you,'' she said, looking up at him. ''I love you too, Sarge.''

With that, he leaned in and kissed her.

Yikes... This story didn't really work well for me, but I figured I'd stick with it anyway. I hope you guys like it anyway, and please review (I might go back and edit this later. Please tell me what to fix).