You think this, waking up to meet this day you were expecting to be just like any other day, just like yesterday, the day before, even the day before that, and tomorrow.
You weren't expecting to see her.
So far your day was, for the most part, just like yesterday and the day before, the same normal day. You make your trip to the bakery, to see the Cakes waiting for you, a few small boxes in hoof. You do this regularly, to help them get orders out quickly, and are quite happy to do so.
Next up, you look up into your mental checklist, is about the time the CMC pounce on you, trying to learn about you. Even though they've been asking for a couple of months now. Even though it annoys you to great extent, which they seem to not notice. Even though you reply in the same way endlessly, which causes you further annoyance, and you hear the same reply: "why won't you tell us, Frigid Hooves?!"
It's not the fact that you wouldn't like to tell them, it's that the subject is a very touchy subject... one that you would, to a great extent, like to forget... and one that you hardly see fit to even bring up, and yet, ponies all around town ask tirelessly. 'At least it isn't every day,' you think. 'It sure feels close to it, however...'
Walking into town, your eyes fall upon a young, rather tall pegasus mare, possibly only a few years older than you, if even that, that you have never seen before.
Some would just say, 'what's so special about her?' If and when asked, you might have responded, 'why, just look at her! She's stunning, she's captivating, she's... quite simply gorgeous!'
A beautiful, pale white coat, similar to your own, except yours is closer to the color of pure, untrodden snow. Hers is closer to the purer color of white. Something about her coat makes it shine against the sunlight and not, simultaneously; drawing your eye, and pushing it away.
A gorgeous, shortly-kept mane, its color a pastel pink...well, not quite as pastel as the ridiculously bouncy mare always seen about town. Thinking about it, it reminds you of Princess Celestia's mane, except hers shimmers, while this mare's does not; Celestia's mane flows regally behind her, whereas this mare's is almost plastered to her head, and not a hair is out of place... and yet, it doesn't look styled in the slightest bit; it appears to be completely natural, even as she moves her head.
Looking for her mark, you're surprised to find none... until you look closer. Her mark is almost the color of her coat, blending in nearly perfectly until an adverted eye concentrates on it. It's... the mark is a snowflake, you realize, your heart jumping up your throat! A beautiful, 9-pointed snowflake. Knowledgeable as you are, you realize that the snowflake, simple-looking at first glance, is actually not so. Each point of the snowflake split into a fractal image of 5 more points, to which each point split again into 7. Thinking, thinking, even over-thinking, you realize there must be 315 separate points in that one snowflake... but that's hardly important.
The most stunning thing about her, however, are her eyes.... in the time you've spent in this town, you have never seen anypony with even impartial heterochromia. This mare, however, had the most perfect set of eyes, each a complete color of its own... complete heterochromia. You could go on and on into the many different types and what affects heterochromia, but that wasn't important.Her right eye was a golden color...similar to a cross-eyed pegasus you knew, but darker; her left, a tranquil emerald green. They were just marvelous, looking at them... until you realize she's quite possibly looking back.
Having noticedyou, she gives a start, and races off. Before you could call out (which might have not been the best thing to do, given the circumstances), she's gone. Your mind immediately begins to think. 'Where's she gone off to? When will she return? WILL she return? Is she gone forever, just because I was stupid enough to openly stare at her?!' All these thoughts fill your head to the brim, making your knees unlock themselves, and causing you to stumble to the ground.
A voice calls out, partially unheard in your current emotional state: "Hey, Frigid, are you alright?"
You look up, trying to find the source of the voice. A lavender unicorn is standing before you, a look of concern on her face. You realize you must have been sitting there for a bit. You mumble a reply, before getting up. "I'm glad. Still coming over for a reading session?" That completely slipped your mind, even though it's a twice-weekly occurrence, sometimes thrice. You nod, before politely saying your goodbyes, and trotting off, intent on finding the girl of your every thought.
Everywhere you go, it seems she's right there!
Eventually, you give up, having not seen her in a half-hour. You hang your head, and kick up dust as you trot to your favorite spot in town.
You slowly approach a lone hill, near the forest, but not so far out you cannot reach the town in five minutes. As you approach the tree, old and majestic as it is (it's nowhere near the size of the Library; no other tree is, as far as you know!), your legs finally begin to give, having been running basically all day. You go to lay down under the part of the tree that faced the sunset... and there she is. She's almost shocked to see you there, but her eyes give away her thought process: 'why wouldn't he be here? This has to be the best spot in town to just relax.'
You begin to ask her questions, not rushing them, but barely keeping a slow pace... who is she; where did she come from; hey, by any chance, do you like books? Not getting any answer, you tilt your head, showing you are waiting patiently for an answer. But by now, you should have noticed one thing: she's trying to answer... but seems incapable of doing so.
The gears in your head finally kick into place, and you realize... 'is she mute?' You try to ask her, unsure of how to phrase the question. She doesn't reply, too uncomfortable or too frightened to answer. You plop down onto the soft grass, having finally given up. You found her... but you are nowhere near where you started this morning. Eventually, you close your eyes, ready to take a rest...
...you sense movement to your left, and think nothing about it. Suddenly, you feel the warm feeling of a pair of soft lips brushing yours, a fairly firm embrace all in its own; the feeling causes you to stand, your mind reeling, eyes still closed, and you feel a pair of legs slip around your shoulders... you can feel the hug intimately, spreading an unfamiliar warmth throughout your body... 'is this what it means to be loved?' You have never experienced this warm, close feeling before... you've never expected to, being motherless. The thought of the past fills your heart with sorrow... but the feeling quickly passes, something it has never done before, as your embrace continues. Nearly as suddenly as it started, what feels like forever ago, you feel the pair of legs let go. It takes you a few seconds before you think: 'where is she?'
You open your eyes frantically, expecting her to be standing there... but she's gone. It's just you and the leaves. You close your eyes, finally at peace, mind still brimming with questions, but a solid, absolute answer hanging in the back of your head:
'she does like me.'
'And I'm fairly certain... that I like her too.
'...maybe even love her.'
[But it's going to be different now.
AN: I'm really, really, TERRIBLY sorry about that soddy color mess... I was experimenting, and, well... it went terribly wrong in my case.
Again I apologize, and if you say a Celestia-damned word, you ruddy avian, I'll stuff you and mount you to the wall!!
That's what I-
THAT'S IT!!! You're DEAD!!!