The old floorboards in the upstairs hall creaked softly under Limestone’s careful hooves. The grayscale mare quietly nudged open the door to her plain little room and slunk inside, making sure it latched silently behind her. She exhaled, stepping into the pale blue moonlight which spilled in through the window. Getting back in her room without being detected was a small consolation for the way her night had unfolded.
Limestone cast a glance over at her neglected vanity, catching sight of her own dour face in the old, cloudy mirror. For a moment she didn’t recognize herself. “You look ridiculous,” she whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek. She’d made a real effort tonight with her face and mane. It was so difficult too. She probably spent three times the amount of time it would’ve taken the average mare. She worked on a rock farm after all. Historically she’d never had any reason for personal beautification. Not only that, she didn’t have anypony to show her how to do it either.
A silent wave of anger broke over her as she began to hate herself again. It was infuriating that she kept jumping through hoops like a circus dog for this. Trying to look nice. Throwing a tarp over her caustic personality. Sweeping her brokenness under the rug. She felt so desperate and pathetic and weak trying to play this stupid game. How dare she set her sights on anything other than having a successful rock farm. She didn’t need anything or anypony else... But then why did being alone always hurt so much?
Limestone sniffed as her tears turned into searing hot rivers. She sat down at the vanity and began wiping the makeup from her face with a rag before it could start to run and make her look even more pitiful. She brushed and teased her mane back into something approximating her normal style. Gazing forlornly at her reflection, she couldn’t help but begin a mental autopsy of her appearance.
Her forehead was too big and her brow was too sloping. She hated her nose and the shape of her sneering muzzle.
Limestone smiled at herself in the mirror. The expression looked fake to her. It was fake. She knew this but she couldn’t make it look real. Her smile always looked painfully fake, even on the rare occasion it was genuine. And even her happiest smile never fully masked the natural look of anger forever harbored in her face. If she looked close enough in the moonlight, she could even see a malicious edge in her eyes. It wasn’t amiable or pleasant. It was scary, almost in a pathological way. Normal ponies just do this when they’re happy, she thought. It’s not a production.
She knew the night was over when she saw him flinch at her smile. It was a devastating blow causing pain inside that she could scarcely compare to any previous folly in dating or elsewhere. Her default reaction to any offensive critique was always confrontational anger but she was at a complete loss for a haughty retort, instead clamming up in shame. She’d made herself vulnerable and in return received a wound that would remain long after dinner was over. She couldn’t even muster the self esteem to end it right there herself and walk out.
“That’s just how I look,” she squeaked. “I can't help it. That’s not fair. The problem’s with them, not me. If somepony could just get past that...” In a moment she forgot she was in a house of sleeping ponies and slammed her hoof down on the desk in frustration, eliciting a loud bang. She winced in the wake of the shattered quietude.
“Limestone?” called a soft voice. “Is that you?”
The old farmhouse had thin walls and little in the way of noise dampening. It was all too easy to hear things in other rooms whether it be somepony accidentally breaking something or a conversation thought to be private by the participants. With Limestone and Marble’s bedrooms sharing a wall, they’d been speaking with each other through the wood past bedtime for their entire foalhoods.
This is exactly what she’d wanted to avoid tonight. Limestone paused for several moments before finally deciding to converse. “What?” she replied with a huff.
“How was your date?” asked Marble, innocently.
Limestone grinded her teeth and ran a hoof down her face. “Good. Fine,” she grumbled.
“You’re back early, aren’t you?”
Curse her. She was worse than their sister, Maud. It was impossible to hide anything from Marble. With her silence and demure presence, she was like a ghost fly on the wall that went unnoticed but was always watching. Even if she lacked the guts to confront Limestone about it, she always knew what she did or what she was up to. Through the years, they’d shared many a fight over her supposedly unintentional intrusiveness.
“So what?” retorted Limestone defensively, still trying to keep her voice down.
“Well…” Marble wavered for a moment, unsure if she wanted to press the issue. "It just doesn't seem like it… went that well."
"How would you know?” Limestone hissed. "When was the last date you went on?"
Marble rolled over in her bed, causing the mattress springs to groan. "Oh, I'm too shy to get a date," she wilted.
Limestone rolled her eyes and snorted in annoyance. "No you're not. You have no idea. Shyness plays a lot better with guys than being angry and intimidating.”
“You think you scared him away then?”
Limestone desperately wanted to back out of the conversation now. If there was one thing she couldn’t stand, it was talking about her feelings and her foibles.
“Yeah,” she admitted. “Him and the guy before him and the guy before him…” Her voice quivered. “And the guy before him.”
“Maybe you just need to find a stallion that doesn’t scare easily,” offered Marble. “You’re like the geode, remember?”
Limestone considered this for two seconds and then frowned. “I’m not like the geode, Marble. Geodes are ugly on the outside and pretty on the inside. I’m not pretty anywhere. I pretend to be pretty. If somepony breaks me open, they find my cold, blackened insides and then they turn and run.” She shook her head. “Why do I keep reaching out? It makes no sense. If I ever successfully pulled one over on a stallion and got a second date, I’d just have to keep acting… forever. What kind of relationship is that? That’s not real love.”
Marble paused, staring up at the water stain above her bed. “You’re right,” she finally replied.
Limestone knew she was right but she still didn’t care to be agreed with on the matter. She got up slowly from her chair and tried to swallow away the sadness from her voice. “We should go to bed. We have work to do in the morning.”
“Mmhmm,” replied Marble, caught off guard by Limestone’s abrupt retreat. It should have been expected though. These sorts of conversations were like hooves on a chalkboard for her. She never wanted to accept help even if it was just talking. They could go back and forth about this, or whatever, for a while but in the end it was always the same. Limestone was going to handle things her way and nopony was going to tell her otherwise.
“Uh, we can talk more tomorrow,” promised Marble.
“Whatever,” mumbled Limestone, flopping down on her bed.
“Goodnight, Limestone.” Marble closed her eyes and tried her best to ignore the unfamiliar sound of muffled sobbing emanating from the next room over.