//------------------------------//
// 11. Sunset 
// Story: Long-Distance 
// by Bicyclette 
//------------------------------//

Wallflower felt comfort in the arms of her friends as she hugged them for the last time. The last time she would ever feel the touch of another being like that. She tried not to think of it that way. 

One last exchange of looks. Applejack in her familiar hat. Rarity stunning in her stunningly impractical end-of-the-world couture. One last smile. Just the way she would want to remember them, whatever that meant in this case.

Rarity and Applejack turned away and began their very last walk back to the farmhouse. Wallflower just stood there, watching their images shrink, focusing her vision on the sight of their held hands. She felt a sensation in her palm. The feeling that something that should be there but was not. When they were too far away to make out their held hands, she turned around to face the horizon, and talk to Sunset.

One last conversation with Sunset, leaned up with her back against that apple tree, the setting sun blazing orange on the horizon as a backdrop. One last dip into a lifetime of memories. Or half a lifetime, as Ms. Rose had called it all those years ago. One conversation wasn’t enough, even for half a lifetime. But what would be?

Towards the end, just gazing into each other’s eyes through their screens in silence, trying to keep the ticking timer in the corner out of their mind. Until it ticked down, and the bandwidth of the journals narrowed, shutting off the video and sending the last image of those sky-blue eyes into oblivion. One last insult of the winding down. Well, not the very last. One more to go. Two, for Sunset. 

Wallflower was grateful for the time synchronization between their two worlds for one last time, knowing that 
Sunset was watching the very same setting sun.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Wallflower asked. She held up her arm to compare it to the tattoo on her wrist. The artist had tried their best, but it didn’t quite compare to the real thing.

“It is.” Sunset’s voice was weak. Wallflower hated hearing how far it was from that confident tone she loved. She spoke.

“It’s the second-most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen.”

A laugh, and a groan. Wallflower smiled.

“How long have you been saving that one?”

“Oh, for years now! Ever since they nailed the time down to the hour.“

Sunset laughed again. It was beautiful.

Silence passed. They kept holding dots.

Wallflower could hear Sunset try to calm her own breathing. 

“What are you thinking about, Sunset?”

“What else could I be thinking about, Wally? How awful all this is.”

Sunset’s breathing grew more agitated.

“I just can’t bear the thought that this is the last time I’ll say that I love you. That there’ll be a last time.” Sunset sobbed. “And I know, I should be saying something less useless than that right now, but I—“

“It’s okay, Sunset. There’s nothing to say to make this better. And you can’t control how you feel. I’m just glad you are here with me.”

That seemed to calm her down a bit. She could hear her take some deep breaths.

“Me too.”

Another stretch of silence passed. So little time left, yet to Wallflower it felt so much. She was so very bad at goodbyes.

“Sunset. Do you remember what my mother said to me the last time I ever talked with her.“

“I remember,” Sunset said, a bit taken aback. “I know you said she didn’t mean anything, but it was still an awful thing to say.”

“It was how she really felt! And I really think she did just feel guilty. And it wasn’t like I didn’t already know. That apartment was dark and quiet for a long time before you ever even met me, Sunset.“

Wallflower sighed.

“But what I never told you is that I agreed with her. That she was right, and I saw like she did that life wasn’t really worth living, in the end.”

“You did?”

“Yes! The world brought me into it without asking, left me all alone to find what little joys in it I could, and was always going to take it all away in the end. It just seemed so cruel.“

Wallflower could hear the anxiety in Sunset’s voice.

“But that’s changed, right?”

Wallflower paused as she thought of her answer.

“I think that of all the lives that I could have lived, I can’t think of one I’d have wanted more than the one I spent with you. I have no regrets. I love you, Sunset.“

Wallflower smiled, knowing every word of that was true.

“I have no regrets, either. I—”

Sunset interrupted herself with a panicked sob. 

“I—”

Another panicked sob. It felt so wrong, hearing her like this. But no wonder. There wasn’t much time left now.

“It’ll be okay, Sunset. It’ll be okay.” Wallflower spoke with a soft voice as Sunset’s sobs continued. She glanced down at her phone. Two minutes left. “There’s something important I need to tell you.”

“T-there is?” Sunset squeaked out.

“Yes.” Wallflower looked back out at the setting sun. “Twilight told me something last night. There’s a chance that Pinkie was right after all, and that when the last of the magic goes, the shift won’t be enough to destroy what’s left of our universe. It’s a small chance, and I won’t tell you how small because I need you to believe that’s what will happen, Sunset. Okay?“

Wallflower looked down at her phone again. Ninety seconds.

“O-Okay.”

“You have to believe, because either way, it’ll look exactly the same to you! Like our universe isn’t there anymore, because the last connection is gone forever. But if this happens, we’ll still be here, just with no magic at all. Twilight said that they could even make the children start being born again. Only they won’t be as colorful as us.” She held her hand out in front of her. “They’ll be peaches and tans and browns. No more blues or greens or yellows. Isn’t that funny?”

An absurd chuckle broke through Sunset’s sobs, to Wallflower’s delight. “That is funny.”

“Can you imagine it, Sunset? I’ll watch the sun go down, and sit here until the very last reds of it disappear into the quiet night. Then I’ll walk to the farmhouse, and have dinner with Applejack and Rarity and their family like it was any other day. Those who have fallen asleep will awake to a world that is still here, and we’ll all go on…”

Twenty seconds.

“Can you imagine it, Sunset?”

“I can. I can imagine it.”

“I need you to tell me, Sunset. I need you to tell me that you’ll believe this, okay? That this is goodbye, and that is so unbearably awful, but I won’t be gone. That there won’t ever be a last time we’ll say that we love each other because every time I remember you I’ll imagine you saying it, and I’ll hear it, and I’ll say it too, and you’ll hear it too, okay? Can you promise me that?” 

Ten seconds.

“I promise.”

“Good!” Wallflower laughed. “I’m going to miss you so much, Sunset. I’m going to hate it, too. Watching you become a memory in my mind.”

Five seconds.

“I’m going to miss you so much, Wally. I really am. I really, really am.”

Three seconds.

“I love you, Sunset.”

“I—”

Silence. She looked down at her phone. Connection lost. Twilight had been off by two seconds.

That’s what she got for being so bad at goodbyes. At least Sunset heard her say it. And she heard Sunset promise. That would have to be enough.

Only seconds left now, so why not? She opened up the journal to the front page and wrote. Only ink stained the page. No glow, as far as she could tell.

I’m still here.

She smiled. As far as last things she would ever do in her life, it wasn’t so bad. 

But it wasn’t the very last thing. 

The very last thing was being overwhelmed by a feeling of joy as underneath her words, the faintest, most imperceptible glow of orange began to trace itself out.

I love you W