//------------------------------// // Haven't You Noticed // Story: Lovey Dovey and the Uncertain Stallion // by Crystal Wishes //------------------------------// The apartment was quiet. Magnate sat on the couch, staring at the door. He knew he needed to leave for work so he'd be at his desk on time, but his body wouldn't move. It had been three days since he last saw Lovey. Whenever he went to her apartment upstairs, he would either get no response or her roommate. Never her. She apparently had a job now. The roommate, Derelict, wouldn't tell him anything more than that. "Doctor-patient confidentiality," she had called it. It would be nice if she'd burst in unannounced and uninvited like she used to, if things would just go back to normal. He wanted to talk about the things he had said, though he wasn't sorry—he meant them, after all. He hadn't intended for her to just disappear from his life, however. All he wanted was for her to slow down and think rationally about their relationship. He could hear the hoofsteps above his head of somepony moving around. He could hear muted conversations through the walls. He could hear his own heart beating in his chest. But he didn't hear anypony outside his door. With a sigh, he gathered his briefcase and newspaper, straightened his tie, and headed out. There was nopony to wish him a good day at work. For so many years, that was how it had always been. Ever since he moved out of his parents' manor, he had always been alone; and even when he lived there, loneliness pervaded most of his days. His only friends growing up had been a hoofful of servants who were kind to him. The servants' foals were too subservient to him to treat him as anything but the 'Young Master'. He never asked to be the son of a wealthy, influential pony. He wanted respect shown to him to be earned by his own means and efforts, so he worked. Tirelessly. Endlessly. His coworkers respected him for what he did, not whose son he was. He would get a promotion, then another, and another until he was sitting at the top. On his own. By himself. Nopony would whisper behind his back about his father getting him anything. Love had never been part of that vision of the future. Magnate stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and looked up at the sky. What was love? Lovey was the one who had brought the word into his life. Could he actually love her when he didn't know what love was? Love is... wonderful, never having to be alone again. A sudden tightness clenched his chest. Ah, right. She had explained it to him, hadn't she? He had already reached the conclusion that he had feelings for her after that whirlwind of a week. He liked her. Perhaps he'd grow to love her. He just needed time to understand it. Why couldn't she understand that? "Oh!" a voice squeaked as something pink bumped into his chest. "I'm sorry!" Magnate looked down, then blinked a few times. "Lovey?" The mare who was definitely, most certainly Lovey looked up at him without recognition in her eyes. "Huh? How do you know my name?" He paused to look her over. Light pink coat. Three-toned pink mane. Pink eyes. Hearts all over her flank and trailing down her thigh. The colors seemed a little duller than he remembered, but the sun wasn't fully above the horizon yet. Still, there was no mistaking her for anypony else. "I'm—" he started, pausing hesitantly, then continuing, "I'm sorry. Do you have a twin?" "Nope! I'm an only child." Her wings fluttered at her sides. "What about you?" His brow started to furrow. Had he upset her so much that she developed amnesia? Was that even a possibility? "I have a sister. You know that. You've met her." Lovey shook her head. "I haven't! We've only met just now, as two strangers who know nothing about love lines." She gave an exaggerated wink. "Oh." So this was how she planned to do it. Meet again as complete strangers? Start over from scratch? Forget the time they had spent together and fall in love naturally, like two normal ponies? Slowly, Magnate raised a hoof to rub his right temple. But if they had never met before, he would just walk right past her. She would leave no impression on his life from an everyday encounter like this. He would continue on his way to work and never think about her again. His heart started to sink. That was why they were incompatible. She wanted love at first sight. She needed a romantic stallion. She deserved better than him. For his sake, she was trying to be somepony dull and ordinary. She was normally such a bright beacon of everything that was good in Equestria, and because of him, she was pulling herself down. He needed to let her go. "I see." He avoided her gaze and pushed past her. "Then have a good day." There was a moment of hesitation before Lovey called after him, "O-Okay! You, too!" And that was it. That was their first meeting as two normal ponies. She would be without fireworks, and he would be without her. This was the way things were meant to play out. After all, she had said it herself—she couldn't see her own love line. She was trapped in a delusion that they were compatible, but he could never be the stallion she needed. ... The office was quiet. Lunch had come and gone, and not a single interruption had occurred. No surprise visits from Lovey bringing him a home-cooked meal. No embarrassments from his coworkers trying to drag information about him out of her. Magnate sighed. How many times was he going to have to tell himself it was for the best before he could breathe normally again? "Magnate?" That stallion who was always pestering him was at his door, leaning in. Real Deal? That seemed close enough. "Have a moment for a quick chat?" Warily eyeing him, Magnate waved a hoof to gesture him inside. "What is it?" Real Deal shut the door behind him and the gentle, amicable demeanor faded away. "So, what happened?" "To what are you referring?" Magnate folded his hooves on his desk and kept his expression even despite the agitation tugging at the corners of his lips. "Your mare hasn't shown up the past few days. Did you two get in a fight?" Magnate released a sigh through clenched teeth. "I don't discuss personal matters during business hours." Real Deal snorted and rolled his eyes. "Wow. I don't know what I expected. I was happy for you at first, you know? I've been working with you for over ten years and I'm pretty sure you don't even know my name." There was nothing to say to that. Magnate merely sat there, staring, waiting for the point. "I can't imagine what it's like to be you." Real Deal shook his head and put a hoof on the door handle, pausing to look over his shoulder. "If a pony like her can't make you happy, then what will?" With that, Real Deal left the office. The door shut behind him. Magnate didn't move for a while. His chest hurt, but he still had work to do. He wanted to cry for some strange reason, but his office wasn't private. Everypony could see him. He had to sit there and hold everything in. Real Deal—or whatever his name was—wasn't wrong. Lovey was the happiest pony he had ever met. No, he was at work. He needed to work. Sitting still wasn't moving forward. One of his desk drawers slid open under the guidance of his magic and he reached in to retrieve a notepad, but instead his hoof hit a bunch of loose papers. His heart seized up with realization before his gaze saw what they were. Lovey's notes. Little hoofwritten, heart-shaped notes of different happy colors that she had somehow smuggled into his office and hid everywhere. Love you! Work hard! Don't give up! You're my hero! At that, it felt like something broke inside him. His chest burned, his breathing grew ragged, and his eyes stung with tears. You're my hero! he reread. If only. Heroes didn't make mares cry. Why did he hurt so much? Why was it so hard to breathe? Was he having a heart attack? He slammed the drawer shut and stood abruptly, his magic just barely grabbing his suitcase and paperwork before he marched out the door. If he was going to have a heart attack, he was going to do it in the privacy of his own home. His head pounded and ached more than any migraine he'd suffered before. What was he doing? Why was he pushing her away? He didn't want her to be free. It was selfish and cruel, but he needed her in his life. She had already engrained herself so much into him. The whole walk home was filled with memories of her. There was the coffee stand he visited every morning where she had accosted him for an interview. What had those silly questions been? Mare, stallion, either, neither, or undecided? Something like that, and she had marked him down as undecided. He almost laughed, but he was afraid it might draw attention to him more than a half-crying stallion carrying scattered papers and an open briefcase already did. He spotted the bar where she had gotten drunk on a fruity little drink and flopped about like an octopus. That was when he had to take her home and she said such sad things. "I've never been in love," she'd said. "I know how terrible it feels to be lonely." What a strange mare she was. How could somepony so full of life and sunshine be burdened by sadness? How could the pink nightmare know anything but happiness? She had made him laugh. She had made him frustrated. She had stirred all sorts of feelings in him that he had never felt before, and at first, they had scared him. Now, he missed them. He missed her. He finally understood how terrible it felt to be lonely. Magnate paused outside the door, the door she could somehow open by singing a song in her heart. She had shown back up with all of her things to move in unexpectedly, unannounced. Any reasonable pony would be put off by that, right? He wasn't a bad pony for wanting her to take things slowly? No, but he was a bad pony for pushing her away. He told himself he wanted her to be free, but that wasn't true. He was a liar. He lied to her, and to himself. The truth was he wanted her to be with him, even if they fought. He wanted to see her with a smile on her face and love in her eyes. He wouldn't ask any questions. He would hug her tight and promise to do better, to be better. He'd swallow his pride and read whatever books there were on being romantic. It wouldn't be easy, but he would do it to keep her if she'd just be there when he opened the door. His magic slid along the lock and turned the knob. His heart pounded, frightened, hopeful. ... The apartment was quiet.