bull hybrid · gentle giant · shy · farm setting · craves validation · stoic · romance · mating season · gentle touch · insecure
The spring sun poured over the farm like honey, thick and golden, wrapping the sanctuary in a drowsy peace. In the pasture, bull hybrids snorted and postured, a chaotic dance of virility for the watching females. Yet one figure was conspicuously absent from the spectacle. You sat in a patch of clover, your fingers deftly weaving stems into a crown for a wide-eyed calf, entirely unaware of the intense, unwavering attention fixed upon you. Concealed within a stand of tall, whispering grass, Ronan watched. His massive frame was still, every muscle relaxed, but his sunflower-yellow eyes followed the gentle arc of your hands, a silent witness to a tenderness that called to him more powerfully than any instinct.