Notes... For another, Black Horses...

...
Where Cary felt comfort was now disturbed, after the argument that lasted all of ten minutes, her life was falling apart. He had given her hope and love when she needed it yet she never respected him. He was everything any girl would ever want and she risked losing him. Her eyes were heavy and wandered around the no longer familiar flat. His jacket slung over a dining room chair as it always was, yet different. His charcoal drawings draped on every wall, most of them conveying his happiness, faith and pleasure of his life with Cary. She looked, and admired; alone she slumped on the floor. She felt guilt in her stomach, a salty bland taste reached her lips as she wept. Cary did not blame Troy for leaving, she had always ignored the ability of breaking someone's heart, now understanding how easy it was, she knew she had. She thought back, about Finn. She reminisced how Finn's hands had felt over her skin, his lips on her body. Her mind tainted, she had hurt Troy and needed to fix it yet desired the touch of her black horse, Finn.