Pinkie’s jaw dropped.
Shining Armor caught the expression on her face, subconsciously reflecting it with a wry smile. “I hope it’s good enough, then?”
Pinkie couldn’t decide what she wanted to rub her hooves over first, but she needed to make sure it was real, that her eyes weren’t tricking her. So she settled for the polished countertop in the kitchen area; there was no way that it could have been as smooth and cool to the touch as it looked.
It was.
“Shiny, this is granite!” Pinkie gasped as she flitted from the counter to drawers crammed full of silverware to a window so big and a view so picturesque that it felt like Pinkie was looking at a magnificent painting of a landscape, instead of the real deal.
“Of course it is! You’d expect anything less from a kitchenette?” Shining Armor followed her footsteps, gait locked evenly on her skittering hoofsteps as if tracking an excitable quarry. “That’s oak on the cabinets, too. It should be fully stocked, in case we wanted to throw a party.”
“I...Okay!” Pinkie chirped, praying that Shining Armor was as oblivious as he often seemed. “I mean, I guess I could still do some baking for that, right? Everypony likes home-baked goods at parties!”
“I can’t really argue with that.” The chuckle that followed was devoid of any actual mirth, as if it was an obligation that he wanted to get out of the way as fast as possible. “We should probably clean up a bit, you know. Don’t want our manes to get all tacky from the saltwater.”
“Of course not! Right! I’ll go...I’ll go do that first. Um.”
“Second door on the left.” Shining Armor pointed to a hallway leading towards the sea. “Take your time. Bedroom’s the third door to the left, in case you wanted to take a nap or something. You’re probably exhausted from the trip to the ocean, right?”
Pinkie nodded, humming a nervous ditty as she ambled down the hallway. “Take your time,” of course, meant “hurry up.” The bit after that, well…
It was a nice enough bathroom. Pinkie made a mental note to take a real bath the next time she was here, with bubbles and rubber ducks and all the other bath time necessities. Here, it was more mechanical than anything: Soap, shampoo, rinse, done. Step out of the shower, towel body, towel mane, hang up the towel on the door hook for later, done. Bracing herself a little, Pinkie opened the door.
There was Shining Armor, just as she expected. Big grin on his face. Big, toned muscles barely hidden beneath his coat. Big-
Ugh.
Shining Armor stepped aside, and Pinkie made her way to the bedroom.
It was just to relax. That’s all they were really doing: relaxing. Getting away from everything else, the two of them, after a long day of playing by the ocean and basking in the beautiful weather and going on a breathtaking walk. Spending a day at the beach was supposed to be tiring, and she was supposed to be tired. And there wouldn’t be anything wrong with relaxing, right?
Pinkie didn’t really pay attention to the bedroom, except for the bed. It looked comfy enough, the sort of thing she could spread herself out on and relax and think about anything and everything else. Maybe she’d even enjoy sleeping on it tonight. Maybe.
****************************************
Pinkie stood on the balcony, looking at the sunset and wishing that she had a pipe.
Not that she actually wanted to smoke one. That would taste gross, and also make her lungs look like wrinkly prunes and probably kill her. But it seemed like the sort of thing that she should be holding onto, so she could look like one of those characters from a really thoughtful novel and stuff.
There wasn’t really anything to eat or drink that she shouldn’t use later to prepare for a party, anyway. And if juice and dessert were off-limits, that kind of left milk and water, and…
And she was a bit done with white for a while, honestly.
Pinkie tried to sip her glass of water like a thoughtful pony. It wasn’t the same. But at least she could think thoughtful thoughts if she wanted to, and maybe that’d be similar.
Pinkie wished her mind would go to different places. They weren’t doing much good, sticking around the house like this.
“Or were they?” Pinkie muttered to herself, taking another sip.
I mean, it wasn’t like they were bad thoughts, right? It wasn’t like anypony was doing anything bad, not really. She got to be treated like a princess, and that was a good thing. Shiny got to relax, and that was a good thing.
Princess Cadance didn’t need to know about that. That’d just make things not-good, and things were already good enough for her, right? She was happy enough. She had to be happy enough. She was a princess. Pinkie only got to be a princess some of the time, but she could be okay with that. And if Shiny wanted…
It wasn’t like what he wanted was bad. It wasn’t like anything was bad. He was happy, and she was happy, and everypony was happy, right?
Pinkie peered over the balcony and gasped. The sunset hit that one moment of perfection, the bit where the sun caught the edge of the horizon just so and the sky flushed with everything from the richest of reds to the softness of pink and purple, the imminently indigo nightfall casting the water by the sun in a golden aureole.
Artists would pay dearly to see this sublime moment. Writers would empty their wallets if their savings could let them replicate the transcendental moment. But Pinkie wasn’t an artist, wasn’t a writer. She was just…
Just herself. Just the pony Shining Armor wanted her to be. Just the secret nopony else needed to know about.
And that was fine. These were the moments that would stay with her forever. They were the happiest moments she’d had in years. And that was a good thing. Everypony deserved to be happy.
Everything wasn't fine.