//------------------------------//
// V. Wedding Bells 
// Story: City in a Bottle 
// by Cynewulf 
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When the door open, I find you staring slackly at me. Of course you must have known I was coming. No, I know you knew.


It's so charming. You are prepared for every contingency, but I've always been something for which you could never prepare. Your plans, your composure, they all melt away before me. Is it me, or is it you? I've never been quite sure, but I've also never minded it. I enjoy seeing you on your backhoof sometimes, dear. It's just so cute.


"Hello, Twilight," I call out as I step into the penthouse. That's what this is, I assume--lavishly furnished in a stark white, with long couches and a few tasteful paintings. The lighting was soft, comforting. 


You probably can't hear me, on second thought, out there on the balcony. I walk out to you.


Look at you! Nervously shuffling like a school filly with a crush. Never change, Twilight. Please never lose that shy filly's air. You are your purest, sweetest, and kindest when all of your plans fall apart. It's like watching a guard let down her armor piece by piece, and seeing the pony that is beneath. The armor was impressive. The armor was useful. But when it is not needed, when it's not dangerous or urgent, the real mare comes out like a bat blinking in the sunlight somehow changed for the better.


"Hi," you say at last. "I, um... I didn't mean..."


I just smile at you and walk the last bit of distance on my long journey to nuzzle your cheek and kiss your sweet mouth. "I know."


"I swear, I was just coming back!"


"I know," I murmur, and kiss along your cheek to your neck and then lay my head there, humming gently.


"You're not, ah, you're not mad?"


I shake my head gently, trying not to snag your ear with my horn. "Not at all, dearest. You were just having a breather."


You sag against me, and I keep you up. Together we sit like that, bodies close and breathing soft. I don't know how long we stay like that. I don't particularly care how long. I'm just happy to touch you again. Your voice is like music in my ears. What kind of music? What kind of music would best capture how I feel? A symphony in Canterlot, snuggled together in your royal box seats? One of the dark jazz cafes in the lower city, nestled in a back booth with wine and the freeform sax? The lyre that nice mare plays in the town square once a week, delicate strings? I don't know. Maybe it is all of them. 

"How did you figure it out?" you murmur in my ear. As I smile and continue to hum, I feel you stroking my mane. Did you ever realize how significant that is? I'm so careful about my coiffure, but whenever you do this I simply let you, and could not be bothered to mind in the slightest. You're not the only one who lets her guard down, you know.


"Well," I say breathily, wanting more to lounge than to talk suddenly, "I was going to ask if you wanted some tea. I went up to your study and you were absent. I wasn't bothered, but I noticed something new on your desk and examined it. I didn't mean to pry, dear. But as soon as I came near..."


You nod. "You felt me, I'm guessing."


"I did."


You chuckle--how I love the sound!-- and say, "You know, I was curious if it might have that effect. Thank you for providing a few more data points, love."


The first time you called me love you were so shy about it, you know?


"You're very welcome," I say. "Do you remember the first time you called me that?"


"Hm. The first time?"


"Yes." I straighten my back and then smile as I lock my gaze with yours. "I've come a long way. Might I rest for a moment on the couch inside, preferrably with a beautiful mare by my side?"


You flush and I can't help but giggle as we move back inside. I lay out on the couch, only now realizing just how sore my legs are, and you lay down beside me. Your head rests on my chest, your mane spilling out behind you, and I can't help but love how close we are, how wonderful this is. It still feels... It doesn't feel new but it is wonderful. There's a seed of the novel in each touch and each soft moment that lacks urgency between us. We can fall forward like this, fall into this familiar ease I could not have envisioned years ago.


"The first time," I say again, "you were so shy. We had been dating about... oh, I think it was about four months? Five? I had accompanied you to Manehattan, or perhaps we had both accompanied each other. I forget the errand. We were on a walk, and I complained of the cold."


"I remember now," you say lightly, and then giggle. "I thought a lady didn't whine."


"I will have you know that I never whine," I said and gave a little harrumph. "But I was complaining about how cold it was, and you offered me your coat. Do you remember what you said? It was so gallant."

"You'll have to forgive me. I don't remember the exact words," you say, sounding genuinely contrite. I reach out idly and lay a hoof over you.


"Of course, Twilight. You said, 'I'll keep you warm, love,' like you were a dashing hero in some play! I could have swooned on the spot!"


I can't help it. I just have to revel. Reveling includes a bit of rolling around giggling. You push me a bit, laughing, and I see you're flushed again. "There's no way I said that."


"I guarantee it," I say. "On my life, on my honor as a Lady, I say it's true! And then you'd realized what you'd said, and the look on your face!" You bat at me, still insisting that you had never said such a thing, but I just laugh.


The truth, the deeper truth, was that as I looked at your face and saw many things. You were a bit embarrassed, yes, but you were a bit frightened. You meant it. You knew you meant it. You weren't sure if I would know how you meant it. It had only been four months, I could almost hear you think those words. Only four months. Isn't that too soon?


Maybe. But I wasn't interested in asking that. I wasn't interested in questioning your feelings just that moment. I just wanted to accept them.


I find I feel the same way. 


But Twilight, you're always the one that keeps chasing. "I... I was feeling stressed," you begin. "I just wanted to get away for a moment."


"Hm. How long?"


"Just a few hours," you say. "I was planning on being back in time for dinner."


"In time to try the caterer's fare? You remember he's coming by?"


You squirm a bit. "I, uh, yes I remembered. It's on my list. Er, lists. There are a few."


"Oh, I'm aware." 


"Heh. Sorry," you say, and I shush you.


"None of that."


"I, ah, I was worried when you entered the city that you'd think I was having cold hooves."


I shake my head. "I know better than that. It hadn't crossed my mind."


It did cross my mind. For a few moments it was all I could think about. But only for a moment.


"I'm glad," you say, and the fragility in those two words breaks my heart.


I adjust our position on the couch so I can kiss you. "Would you like to stay here for awhile longer? It's rather grown on me."


You nod, and I smile. 


"Then let's stay awhile. You and I and the quiet."


And we do.