The next day when I woke up, I had a mini heart attack since we weren't in Braeburn's bed. After realizing that we were just in the hotel bedroom, I decided there was too much adrenaline pumping through me to go back to sleep. I slid out of the soft cream-colored sheets, gazed at Braeburn for a single lingering moment, and trotted downstairs to the complimentary breakfast.
After loading up my tray with a bowl of oatmeal, an apple, and a sweet iced tea, I sat at one of the smaller tables to eat, savoring each bite. Like all the food there, the oatmeal was fantastic.
Just as I scraped my bowl clean and began on my apple, Braeburn trotted into the dining room kind of squinty-eyed and bed-headed, even missing his trademark hat and vest. I took a bite of apple and waved for him to sit down. Thankfully, he spotted me and say down on the other chair.
"Morning, sleeping beauty," I teased him as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
Giving me a blue steel it's too early for that look, he said, "Ah thought you were a night owl, but now you're gettin' up earlier than I am."
As I chewed the bite of red delicious in my mouth, I pondered his statement. "Yeah, I guess that is true. You must have converted me. Anyway, you look like you need some coffee." Before he could object, I set down my apple and trotted over to get him a mug with the works- cream, sugar, all that jazz.
When I returned, he gave it a suspicious glance. "Ah usually take it black..."
I chuffed at his words. "Just try it, it's delicious. No offense, but it's much higher quality than that of Apploosa."
Braeburn rolled his eyes, but brought the mug up to his lips anyway. He took a gulp, smacked his lips, and mumbled, "Not bad"
"What was that?"
He smiled. "Okay, it's really good! It tastes great. Thank you."
I finished off my apple and sipped my sweet tea. "Damn right it's good. Anyways, today I'm either going to be pulling my mane out over the piece I have to finish, like, soon, or wandering the town until I have inspiration for said piece. So my point is, you can just stay at the hotel and chillax, maybe check out the pool, you can check out the town and see a play or something, or you can follow me around, being my weird artist self."
Braeburn cocked his head and quirked an eyebrow, creating a surprisingly sexy face (pretty much any face Braeburn makes is sexy.) "'Chillax?'" I pushed him playfully-I was one of the few ponies to still use that term. Still, he scooted his chair close to mine and nuzzled my neck. "Ah wanna go wherever you wanna go, Sugar Cube."
I blushed a deep red. "Braeburn, not in public!" I whisper-yelled, weakly pushing him away. He pulled me close with a hoof around me instead. "So you're just going to follow me? I'm kinda low on inspiration here, so I might be kinda moody."
He hugged me a little tighter. "Ah sure am."
***
After Braeburn finished breakfast, we went back up to the room, where I would add a few strokes, pace around agitated, gaze out the window, have a snack, and basically perform all my normal shenanigans.
"Ugh, Braeburn! How am I going to finish this before Sassy?" I asked in despair, flopping down on the bed after adding only a few more strokes. All that was on the canvas was the strange reds and oranges and yellows, with a few dark grey streaks on it. Where was I going with this?
Braeburn lied down on the bed and pulled me close. We just stayed like that, in a close embrace, for a while. Finally, too soon, he kissed my forehead and hopped off the bed. "Just follow your heart."
Follow your heart.
"I've got it!" I exclaimed, leaping off the bed with the enthusiasm of a school colt. I galloped to the canvas, picking up the brush and letting my hooves and heart guide me. The brush dabbled in the blues and greens, swirled in the blacks and whites, and stroked across the canvas. I couldn't tell you how much time passed, but pass it did, until it was dark. When I finished, the scent of take out snapped me out of my trance.
I weakly trotted over to Braeburn and the food, realizing I had skipped lunch. "Thank you so much, Braeburn. You're the best. Do you even have any flaws at all?" I asked, inhaling the aroma of five cheese baked ziti.
He blushed, swirling his fork in his spaghetti and hay balls. "Well, ya know I have this accent-"
"I don't consider that a flaw"
"Sometimes Ah forget to brush my teeth?"
"Doesn't everypony?"
He blushed a bit and shoved a bite of spaghetti in his mouth. "Thumtiez ah wahht-"
"Swallow, please"
He blushed deeper and swallowed. "S-sometimes Ah watch... Mi Caballo Amor."
I tried to keep back laughter as I continued to eat my pasta. "That cheesy Spanish soap opera?"
He blushed again. "There was nothin on TV one day, and Ah kinda got sucked into the plot line, and I got a Spanish dictionary, and-"
"Shh. If your worst feature is that you enjoy watching Samba and Flamenco fall in love, be proud."
We both smiled as we finished our pasta. Suddenly, I realized something. "We need to get my painting to the museum right now!"
"What?" He asked, wiping tomato sauce from his mouth.
"What if Sassy is already done? We need to get there first! Get dressed, get dressed!"
We slipped on our clothes, I put my new painting carefully in my bag, and we rushed out the door. The dark city sidewalks were lit with bright yellow street lights, and the nightlife was bustling. Not as bustling as the morning life, of course, but bustling enough so that Braeburn and I had a hard time getting around. Every time I saw a flash of pink or orange, I would urge Braeburn to go faster. Finally, the large marble structure of the museum appeared.
"Hurry, Braeburn! They close soon!" We sprinted hard to the doors of the museum and busted through. Thankfully, not may ponies were there because of the late hour and the more interesting attractions to visit in the dark. "Turn, turn, it's over here!" I guided him to the curator's office. Before we entered, we took a pause to catch our breaths and straighten up. As soon as we did, I opened the door.
"Artsy, I'm done!"