Soft waves of chocolate ran through the brush like rivers as she slowly ran through it, her eyes focused on the task at hand. Why didn't she tell her? One stroke after another, in a seemingly endless rhythm. Why isn't she stopping her?
The strokes stop, and the brush is replaced by hands, rough hands threading through the thick mane, and twisting them up, the owner's heart heavy with regret. She should have told her, why didn't she? Twisting the mane into a single bun, pulling strands to frame her face. Why did she let her get this far?
Stepping back, she surveyed her work, but, more importantly, she surveyed the worried face looking up at her, eyes full of hope. Her heart twisted much like the mane had, how could she let her get away like this?
"It should do,"she said quietly, watching intently as relief spread across her face, relief and happiness. How could she let her go? Vaguely, she knew her thought were running in a circle.
"I don't know how to thank you." A soft, quiet voice, chocolate eyes shimmering with happiness. Why, why was she letting her go, without so much as a fight?
Later, when she saw the pure joy in her brother's dark eyes as they kissed, the happiness reflected in hers, she knew. After all, she was always protective of her brothers, always put them first. Even with matters of the heart.