.
Pinkie Pie had reserved the stage for me to play. Lyra will be my only company, from breakfast to lunch.
“Dancing to a Lyra could be fun!” I ponder; “The change in pace would be interesting and refreshing!” I continue.
I still do dance at the cafe for breakfast and lunch, most of the days; so I am already here, now.
I notice Lyra, trotting into the cafe and being served early in the morning. She is sitting in a chair, where she can maintain a pleasant perspective as she is watching me dance. I could not claim, that I mind her attention. So long as she is grinning happily in my direction; I am quite happy, with her in the audience.
I can't help but notice; how she is nibbling at her breakfast, with a bottle of fresh milk by her side. Every pony seems to have a bottle, each day here.
There is a lyra by her side, lying and resting; waiting, awaiting the moment when it will be brought forth. The instrument is quite content, biding its time; for me to hear it and listen to her, playing for me.
Lyra is literally and figuratively eating me up, with her eyes; while she is absentmindedly consuming her breakfast.
The room is surprisingly quiet, considering all the ponies enjoying their respective breakfasts; as I dance on the small stage, leaving squeaks filling the air in the room.
While the music is playing, I do not hear a single squeak; when the music stop, I am quiet, resting for but a moment, until the music is resuming and I start dancing once more.
Then the music quiet down and stop, just as the breakfast is over. All the ponies had left the room in quiet, silence. All, but one; Lyra Heartstring. She had finished her breakfast. Now she is raising to her hooves and the lyra is floating up into the air before her.
For a moment; I see her bouncing up and down, in giddy excitement. She jumps up onto a table facing my stage now lowered to just the right height for her to stand before me.
Her eyes are calmly resting upon me, as she is putting the effort of focusing on the lyra and its strings. I hear a few tentative notes; before the song begins and I start to dance, to the tones of Lyra.
We are alone, as she is playing the tune. I dance to the music she is producing for me and me alone. There is no pony listening or hearing her play. I am content, enjoying to dance for this one pony. Maybe it is, in the passion of her music, and maybe it is in how eager she is to play for me.
While she could have been playing for any pony or crowd of ponies willing to listen; she had chosen to play for me, just for the joy of seeing me and my dance. She is giving me her undivided attention, as she is playing one tune, after another.
Ten minutes before the lunch-break, she stops playing and the room is drowned in silence. She looks at me, quietly without a single word. Just looks at me.
I look at her, at Lyra. As I wink at her, she pounces from one table to the next; ending up on the stage beside me.
I had been standing in the middle of the scene, waiting for her to enter the stage.
There is a strange vibration, as her hooves touch the stage, and with each step she is taking. While I notice it, there is a glow developing on her hooves. Her hooves are glistering as if polished.
I move back and to the right, giving her more space and room on my stage. As she is stopping by my side, I ruffle her mane and scratch her head for a minute and then two and three. She just smiles, as if I had been an angel.
I enjoy the moment and consume her joy; as if it had been candy, given to me.
Now I sit down, beside her and she is winking at me. I spread my legs wide and places my hands on my knees; sitting by her side and my back turned towards her just enough for what is coming next.
“Giddy, giddy; and giddy up, yet I do not desire a ride on her back now, just the mare by my side” I ponder.
I absentmindedly scratch her head, from time to time. She giggles and grins at me; each and every time, as if it had been special to her in ways words could not quite convey.
Words, why bother with words; when the moment is pregnant with a perfect moment? I am content, with what is; as is she, I feel it in the air around me. No need to stare at her or pull out a scalpel to cut her open and examine her further.
“What could I give her, as a memento of this moment?” I ponder.
She needs no item, to remind her of the moment; it is just the way a girl sees it. That girl, is me. I want to give her something, that will outlast the moment together; even if the sentiment may be futile and hopelessly pointless.
Time is a bliss, I make the most out of it; just enjoying her by my side, just as I know she is doing. How could she not.
I notice, how she is turning towards me; I follow her example and face her. I gaze into her eyes and she gaze into mine. The moment is so perfect it almost hurt. The time is growing short.
Now I feel the warmth of her breath caressing my lips; I press the moment and part my lips as I kiss her. She responds in kind and part her lips in a loving kiss. The moment is sealed, I have the price, but, so does she. It is not a price that could be taken or soled, just the conclusion of a moment that had to come to an end. I regret nothing.
Between my slightly parted lips, my tongue escapes. In response, I feel her tongue touching the tip of my tongue and I almost faint. She gasps.
“Maybe, just maybe; there is something more I could do, for her? If Pinkie Pie approves and Rarity agrees to help me!” I ponder, realizing I just had to ask the one question.
The moment of perfect beauty, slowly ebbing out and evaporation as the time grows near. The lunch is almost upon us, and the other ponies are sure to rush in for a meal. Hungry ponies.
“But, what could I possibly give her?” I ponder.
“Wait, maybe that could work?" I ponder, while the kiss is breaking up as she still is smiling at me; “The boots for the stage, that looks as if it would fit!” I ponder.
She is raising to her hooves and I raise to my feet; as she is moving towards the very edge of the stage and then jump to the nearest table. I watch her jump down from the table, before she trots towards the door and promptly disappears.
Trust Pinkie Pie, to show up as if summoned; just because it is the right time, to be there. I see Pinkie Pie bounce into the room, just after Lyra moves out of the cafe.
“You rang!” she exclaims; as if there had been a bell in the room, I could ring in order to call upon her attention.
Of course, there is no such bell or device for me to call upon her attention. I just giggle at her prompt and timely appearance.
“I am summoned; please, pronounce your request!” she continues, as if she had known exactly what I wanted to ask of her.
She just makes me pronounce the words; effectively asking her, for what I need. Even if it is for a friend; I barely knew, since I had only just met her today.
“I was enjoying to dance for Lyra! I was wondering, if I could give her a set of boots for the stage?” I respond.
Pinkie Pie does not giggle or laugh, neither does she look offended or reprimand me for my presumptuous request. What is she possibly thinking?
“Just a set of boots, for Lyra to wear on the stage? I think that could be arranged!” Pinkie Pie pronounces; as if she had been Princess Celestia, making a grand announcement.
“You approve? I can give her a set of boots; as a token of my appreciation? I imagine she would be very happy!” I respond.
“Lyra was certainly enjoying the moment she was playing on the stage with you! Your gift is sure to make her happy, and bring a smile onto her lips! How could I not approve? I know Rarity would love the chance to craft these boots, too!” Pinkie Pie responds.
Just as suddenly as the pony had appeared, she vanishes. There is but a puff of smoke where she had just stood; as if she had been a djinnie, disappearing, after she granted the wish.