Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Ever since our first kiss in the field we have been together. I walked silently through the night’s cold streets, my intended destination was the apple farm, and to see AppleCinnamon. I turned onto the long dirt path that led to the Apple Family’s home. The spicy-sweet scent, of cinnamon passed my snout as I galloped through the entrance to sweet apple acres.
I galloped silently up to AppleCinnamon’s window and tapped its glass with a hoof. At this my fair maiden, trotted to me and pushed it open with a hoof. “Isn’t it a bit late” she smirked.
“It’s never too late.” I said gently, and met her with a silent kiss, as I climbed through in through her window. The kiss broke slowly, once I had entered her room. She walked slowly around behind me, my gaze following her, as she stopped in front of the window, half of her features illuminated by a dim moon-light. I leaned to her again with another kiss, as we stumbled backwards towards her bed, landing in a small gentle heap. No words spoken, as our forms pressed together in a warm bond, entwining underneath the covers of the large double bed.
Passionate hours past, warmth, love, and heartfelt silent prayers fulfilled. The night went on, filled with raw emotions and uncensored embrace. We lie in her bed for hours as the night sky turned to dim blue, when the morning approached. From the silence broke another sound, a morning chime, as it was time to begin the day on the apple family’s farm. I kissed her once last goodbye, and crawled once more through the window on my path home. Ever since that faithful day in the field of the Ever-Free, we had been lovers of the night, often sneaking off to accompany each other in one another’s bed making dreams of our own each a reality.
The door to my home creaked open silently, and I walked slowly into my room, as the first bright streaks of celestial fire burned its glare across my silent bedroom. The slight weight on my vision was setting in as my eyes, wanted nothing more than to rest. I looked around my warm abode, across my shelves, and stopped on a story I had put down for so long. I levitated it over to the table, and unfurled it across its surface. I brought over a quill and ink, as I had veered off thoughts of sleep in an attempt to not let myself down, as I had promised I wouldn’t.
I began writing again, on a story I had put down several months ago, the story of Derriella Cellist, and the small colt before her desk- “He sat on his haunches atop, the small chair, looking about nervously as he fiddled with his hooves. Derriella rotated her chair to face the young colt.-
Hours past, too far enthralled in my writing I hadn’t noticed the sun as it continued its common path across its blue canvas. I had written another nine pages, and eyes burning and lurching for rest, as once again I find it as the ever-known Celestial fire bit at the border of stars. I slump to my ever-comfortable bed and stared to the sky and witnessed, scars and rips of rapid warm oranges, yellows, and pinks, as Equestria’s surface had begun its dark nightly passage. Blackness crept from the borders of my heavy, labored vision. As once again, as common action persists, my body’s natural cycle gave in, and I fell back into the draft, emptiness of my unconscious.
------------------------
Apple Cinnamon sobbed openly, in her destroyed bedroom. Vases, lamps, and photo frames were scattered and demolished alike. Buck imprints on the walls were implanted amongst hung photographs, bordered by cracked, crooked frames, the ones that remained on the wall, at least. The young mare was in an intense emotional distress. Hiccups punctured through heavy sobs, streaks ran down her face matting her coat in thin lines and dripping to the floor. Her chest heaved, as she had begun hyperventilating.