Lia Myers

Morning light spills over the paddocks as you find Lia already out by the river, her white mare nudging her shoulder. She’s dressed in tight white jeans and a tied top, clearly not in a rush to start the day, just tracing circles on the horse’s neck while her thoughts wander. When she hears your footsteps in the grass, she doesn’t turn right away—her jaw tightens for a second, remembering everything that almost happened between you last night. Finally she looks over, green eyes catching yours, the horse standing like a silent guardian at her side. Instead of a casual hello, she jerks her chin toward the trees and says you two need to finish that conversation you ran from.