Everything about Soarin’s body became petrified. Nothing could be done about his movement. He was too nervous to do anything. “Soarin,” Spitfire repeated, her brows demanding an answer, “why did you just kiss my forehead?”
“I… I can explain,” Soarin replied. What kind of stupid response was that, the stallion barked at himself.
“You should.” Spitfire’s pupils twitched here and there, moving ever so slightly across Soarin’s physique. The stallion couldn’t get a read on her. The only obvious emotion Soarin was able to understand what Spitfire was feeling was concern. He was already so far into committing to confronting his friend but began to regret it. Soarin looked away from her eyes to try and look at a poster that might give him better vibes, and possibly an answer to his predicament; perhaps the motivational flier that said, “Fly to Great Heights,” would speak to him. But he was called back by Spitfire, “Look at me, Soarin.” Escape was no possibility. Soarin wanted to fly backwards and reverse what he had done. If only time travel was possible by taking a few steps in reverse.
The office space was so quiet, Soarin heard the sound of silent ringing in his hear; the ring that was only heard in deafening situations. It was awkward. Standing became uncomfortable and his knees wanted to give into the pressure that weighed on Soarin’s heart.
“I’ll wait,” Spitfire said, taking in a deep breath before exhaling hot air. It was strange to see the captain of the Wonderbolts keep herself composed after being kissed by Soarin. Whenever somepony were to simply bring up the question of Spitfire’s love life, she would get extremely disgusted and would demand a change in subject. Of course, Soarin knew the real truth behind the disliking of romance. But something in his heart told him he would be the exception to the mare’s rule. And from how Spitfire reacted to his kiss, it did not seem that way.
“Spitfire…” Soarin began. The mare finally made more motions in her body language, suggesting she was willing to listen. “I…” Eye contact, Soarin. Confidence is key. Taking Vapor Trail’s simple advice, the stallion gazed upon the warm-colored mare while reducing the distance between him and Spitfire. Two yellow ears fell back, the gravity of the situation starting to show more visible effects on the Wonderbolt aside from her blush. “If you know what I am going to say and you are not going to say ‘yes,’ you can just tell me-”
“Are you already regretting what you’re doing, Soarin?” Spitfire asked. She shook her head, her brows bending to the point where they might snap like twigs. “Because if you are, then you are an idiot like the rest of the other stallions who dared to try and sway me into their arms.”
Soarin swallowed, “I don’t want to affect our friendship negatively.”
“Then tell me why you kissed me!” Spitfire snorted like a dragon, and Soarin feared she may start getting louder. Instead, her temper simmered and the pegasus showed some genuine worry. “Be honest with me.”
The opportunity finally presented itself and Soarin was left to confess the truth. But what was there to say first? That was the second step in his endeavor. Starting with mentioning how beautiful Spitfire was was definitely not the way to begin. If Soarin was to properly tell why he was drawn to the pegasus, he needed to answer the question she asked with flare.
“I kissed you because… because I deeply care about you. The times we have had together, from the fun and joyful moments, and even the sad and angry ones are moments that I cherish. And… I want to give you all of me b-because somepony like you deserves happiness.” Spitfire’s lips rose high, a sign to Soarin that his words were starting to crack her tough shell. “My feelings are for you, and only you! They always have been there, since we were foals, and you have used them before. Let me be more than a pony who holds your secrets close to my heart. Let me share more of me with the most wonderful mare in Equestria.”
There it was, the smile Soarin was hoping to see. It was similar to the grin she gave him when he gave her the megaphone for Hearts and Hooves, except Spitfire was accompanied with pink blush. “Does our friendship mean that much to you, Clipper?”
The pet name usage made Soarin smile just as wide as the mare’s lips. “Do I need to kiss you again to answer your question?”
Spitfire’s beam dramatically sagged to a simple smile. “Just answer my question, Soarin. If you delay any more questions, we won’t ever leave my office.”
“Oh, right… Hehe.” Several self-inflicted insults pounded into Soarin’s head. Unless Spitfire was dressing for the occasion and trying to look beautiful, calling her attractive, especially when a stallion says it, would cause her mood to adjust in some way.
“It does, Spitfire,” Soarin nodded. “And all I want is to share with you is more affection; affection only a pair of special someponies can cherish and grow.”
The smile was gone, and Spitfire’s tone became deadly serious, “And what affection are you expecting me to give you?”
“I… would like for us to hold hooves and maybe kiss every so often.”
Spitfire’s short mane swayed back and forth in a disapproving wave. “Soarin…” She faced away from the stallion, her tail flicking like an angry flame. “You idiot…” Spitfire made for her seat with the speed of a Canterlot Guard on patrol.
The words of his friend struck down Soarin with a bitter lash. The stallion knew what was coming to him, and there was nothing but himself to blame. Soarin stared at the white carpet, each hair and fiber looking to pull him under the surface to drown him in a sorrow that will not go away for a long time.
Spitfire’s chair squeaked as her weight suppressed the small neck of the chair. The sound of the gray throne called to Soarin without the use of Spitfire’s threatening voice. Both Wonderbolt veterans looked into each other’s soul, seeking an understanding for their actions. Soarin wanted to resort to tears in an attempt to try and shake his friend from her broken pillars of the past but knew that crying never really made the captain change her opinion once it was made up.
“Soarin,” Spitfire said, her elbows resting on the desk and eyes no more pleased as her friend, “did you honestly think, after seeing my display of my hatred of this stupid holiday today, that you would have a chance with me?”
Soarin didn’t dare look away from the mare. He may have been broken-hearted, but the stallion clung to what confidence he had left in him. It was the only way for their conversation to resume properly. “I thought you might allow me a chance,” he answered. “Maybe even be the only exception to your rule.”
“You thought wrong!” Spitfire’s hoof pounded the desk and everything on it bounced. A picture that sat on the desk’s upper right corner tipped over, revealing the past to Soarin. The memory showed Spitfire and Soarin in their younger days of being recruited as Wonderbolts. It was the probably the only solid evidence that proved Spitfire possessed the emotion of pure joy, even though everypony thought of her to be an angry yeller.
Soarin swallowed, his ground already thin as paper. “But… why won’t you give me at least a chance? I know what you said is a simple ‘no.’ You know, just by everything I had said, that our friendship means so much. That is no lie. So please, tell me why.”
“Have-” There it was. Soarin saw the past quickly clamp its vice around Spitfire’s throat. Her expression twitched and fought every urge to cry. “Have you forgotten about what caused my reason for abhorring Hearts and Hooves Day?”
He didn’t want to press that button, but Soarin needed Spitfire to answer his question. “You might as well bring it up again. We have talked about it time after time after time. Now wouldn’t be any- Actually, no. Now would be much more different than before.”
“Indeed,” Spitfire growled. “Fine. But it is your fault if I… get upset.”
It was Soarin’s turn to shake his head. “It won’t be all my fault if that does happen.”
Spitfire did not give any reply to Soarin’s comment. And it was her who looked down at her wooden desk. Spitfire’s yellow body expanded as she took in a deep breath before submerging into the past. “You were there in high school, Soarin; when I was in what I would call my ‘heart-filled days.’” Spitfire’s eyes flicked back up at her friend and continued, “I’ll be honest, I somewhat miss what I felt when I was in my relationship with Shot Put. And I don’t mean I miss him. He can fall off a cloud for all I care.” Soarin only nodded. Even he felt an angry bite crunch down onto his heart by the sheer mention of the stallion who broke Spitfire’s heart.
“Of course, all that changed the day before Hearts and Hooves Day.” Spitfire took in another deep breath, which was noticeably different from the previous one; it was unstable and Soarin braced himself for any possible way he could share his care when needed. “When I got those… stupid braces… that good for nothing… son of a mule’s… lust sucking…”
As Spitfire resumed her adventure to curse at her ex-boyfriend, Soarin walked around the desk. It pained him to see her come closer and closer to tears. So he came close to her in case she needed to escape to him. Soarin said no words as he kept a locked gaze on the mare. Spitfire ended her spree of insults with no end to conclude how much she detested Shot Put.
“You remember how Shot Put looked at me when I smiled at him, showing those disgusting braces for all to see?”
Soarin nodded, “I do remember when that good for nothing, son of a mule’s, lust sucking, and the sort did look at you.”
The yellow mare chortled at the comment, lifting Soarin’s mood. However, his simple joke brought forth other emotions. “Stupid tears…” Spitfire grumbled, “I can’t see properly…” Angst weighed her brow to an angle only Soarin was accustomed to seeing whenever his friend visited old pains. He stood tall, his entire being begging Spitfire to use him as a beacon of comfort. However, her throne of ice kept the Wonderbolt from getting off the chair.
“I remember on that dreadful Hearts and Hooves Day, as I held his gift I bought for him, how Shot Put looked at me with a sick look in his eyes. And the first thing that mule asked me was, ‘When did you get those?’ I said to him, ‘Does it matter?’ I then pointed to my jaw because it was aching from the tightness of my braises, and I wanted Shot Put to kiss my cheek to make me feel somewhat better.” Spitfire scrambled of her chair and quickly claimed Soarin in a tight squeeze. “Don’t get the wrong idea,” she squeaked.
It was too late for Soarin to think differently about Spitfire’s affection, and he got the wrong idea; an idea that perhaps Spitfire was trying to avoid. He felt guilty for enjoying her close contact, and Soarin had to tell himself he was only there for her, not for a touchy-feely moment.
Gentle whimpers escaped the mare, her tears staining Soarin’s nearly-white coat. “And then… later that day, Shot Put broke up with me just after I gave him my gift as if my Hearts and Hooves present was some consolation prize for breaking my heart! Oh, how I remember that stupid excuse he gave me! And what a day to tell me it! ‘I think we should see other ponies.’ ‘THINK?!’ To this day, I have no bucking idea what the hay Shot Put was trying to get at other than to get Grillfire away from him.”
Soarin gently placed his cheek on Spitfire’s neck, listening to her hollow gasps. “And that nickname! Grillfire! How the entire flight team called me that! All because of my stupid braces! I was called ugly from other mares and was quickly dismissed by Shot Put and other stallions.” Spitfire lifted her head, which motioned Soarin to look at her. “The only pony who didn’t give into their dreadful and hurtful teasing was you. And I am glad you chose not to.”
“It didn’t seem right,” Soarin said, his voice sounding alien for a moment. He had gotten used to Spitfire ranting to him that the stallion forgot his own tone. “Your nickname made you feel ugly. But I don’t find you ugly at all.”
Spitfire was quick to shove him away. “Don’t compliment me!”
Her comment didn’t sit well with Soarin. “Why are you behaving this way toward me? I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“Because Grillfire is too busy being stuck in the past!” Spitfire exclaimed as she stomped her hoof on the ground. The carpet fibers took the blow and swallowed most of the sound she created. “I’m scared of being hurt again! Like the only reason why you want to be with me is because I am beautiful, or something stupid like that.” Spitfire ran her arm across her face to remove as much sadness as she could.
“Look at me, Soarin.” Soarin did as asked and saw just how red Spitfire’s eyes were. “Do you honestly look like I am in the mood for sharing my heart to anypony right now? Do you think I am emotionally stable at this very moment to want to love somepony? If I am so far stuck in the past and afraid to get romantically close to you, then don’t bother with me. All I am going to do is keeping you away from a much better mare.”
“Is this the reason why I have no chance with you?” Soarin asked as he saw the fate of their discussion draw near.
Spitfire’s shoulders dropped a few centimeters. “It’s unfair for me to say that, for sure, we have no chance. But at this very moment, I am nowhere near close to wanting to be in any relationship.” The idea of Soarin having the hint that he could be in a future relationship with Spitfire did give his heart an excuse to flutter for a short moment.
“You are a great friend, Soarin. Keep being one for me.” Spitfire approached the defeated stallion. Soarin’s ears pointed back, not sure if he wanted her to hug him. It may tempt him to press further into another endeavor of trying to convince Spitfire for another reason why she should give Soarin a chance.
Soarin held up a hoof to stop Spitfire. He didn’t hold anything against her and wore no angry emotions. But that didn’t excuse him from hiding his mood. “I will,” Soarin said with a slow nod. He turned away from Spitfire and saw his glowing record resting against the wall, waiting to be propped up and be displayed for all to see. “I’ll see you later. And don’t worry. I won’t let this affect my flying performance.”
“Glad to hear that,” he heard Spitfire said, though her tone did not match the positive words. Soarin grabbed his gift and saw his frown reflect on the golden surface. He gave the reflection no comment and left the office alone.
The door closed with a deafening ku-klunk, leaving the Wonderbolt’s captain to her own thoughts. Little did she know about the two pegasi who spectated everything that had happened in her closet.