//------------------------------// // Hearts And Who Cares? // Story: Stereotypical Side Stories // by JinxTJL //------------------------------// Hearts and Hooves Day was a disgusting representation of most of the things he hated about society and other ponies in general. It was undignified, unnecessary, and absolutely telling of the lengths that ponies would go to overprove and oversell their overplayed feelings. Like a giant show of inherently humiliating pretenses that flew directly in the face of anything truly genuine. These were all the things that Light Flow told himself as he stood in the middle of the bustling Ponyville market, out on a shopping trip for a present the day before said horrible day. It was an average enough day; discounting the shopping rush of ponies just as late as he was for the holiday. The sun shone as it always did, ponies haggled and yelled when the haggling inevitably didn't work, and in the exact middle of it all: stood he. If he looked out of place- stormy eyed and miserably frowning at each and every little thing that dared to catch his eye- then it was only half as much in place as what he felt. If the holiday meant that love was in the air and loose pockets were sewn into saddlebags, then he was quite consciously a miser with frugality on the mind. Light Flow sighed, and hung his head low as a pony brushed past him roughly for the seventeenth time since he'd decided to mope in the middle of a marketplace intersection. He didn't know why or even really how he'd ended up there, but for all he could remember the street had been empty when he'd stopped to rethink things for the fifth or so time. He didn't know what he was doing here. Well, he did,- he actually didn't like that expression very much now that he was thinking about it- but he really didn't know why he hadn't just given up yet. Oh, he'd given the whole idea a nice college try, certainly; but he was really thinking now that this of all things maybe deserved to be filed away in a dusty old corner as one of those unmentionable things called a mistake. Or maybe he really just wanted to curl up and pass out in the soft solitude of his cottage so he'd never have to see a kissing couple ever again. "Light! Over here! I think I found somethin'!" He didn't know if it was the thought of his warm bed that made his eyes drag more than usual, but it was a certain kind of painful to blearily turn his eyes to the source of the cheery call in his direction. He knew who was calling him, of course; he'd hardly stopped thinking of different ways to get rid of her all through the day. A little yellow filly wearing a bright red bow in her apple-red hair. A cute, rounded face only just beginning to gain hints of definition; standing heads shorter than everypony around her, but miles higher in pure enthusiasm. Apple Bloom. The small town's resident little sister to the resident farming family: who had only needed the short eight years of her life to establish herself as a general nuisance. Seriously. He'd heard off-hoof comments from total strangers from time to time. The little force of occasionally destructive nature stood pointing at the offensively brightly painted stall in front of her while very cheerily staring in his direction. It was quite the cute sight: given that she barely stood tall enough to see over the fairly low counter. Now that it was time to think about it: how had she seen him through the crowd? Not that he'd given thought to how the crowd was a convenient hiding place- it was just a little miraculous, is all he was saying. Good eyes, just like her sister: he'd guess. His eyes drifted back to his front as Apple Bloom called his name again, and again for good measure. Probably waving her hoof all helter-skelter in the air; as oblivious to how it made her look as all children tended to be. What could he distract himself with, just to have these last few moments away from the brutal chatter? Ponies of all colors streamed out on either side of him, breaking off in any available direction, or getting lost in the mess that was hoof traffic on such a chaotic day. The souls only he could see shimmered like a vast undulating lightshow, somehow tethered through mortal coils to the earth below. A rushing river of life; each flame on their own little journey of personal significance. Would it really be all that difficult to duck out and sneak away? Apple Bloom wasn't allowed out to the Everfree, so she wouldn't be able to follow him home. Probably not. Eagle eyed Apple Bloom was sure to notice if he left now. Especially since- as he see could from the corner of his eye he'd purposefully angled to be able to look at her- she was beginning to jump up and down in place, to the attention of multiple ponies around her. Even if he retreated home, she was likely to just ignore the rules and follow him. And as much as he was loathe to admit he had feelings: he truly didn't think he'd be capable of living with himself if Apple Bloom got lost in the cursed forest. Not like he'd live long when her family caught wind. The internal debate was over and the floor was cleared; consensus overwhelmingly demanded that he not ignore the filly in citation of a fear of having his bones broken. So with a heavy heart and heavier thoughts of violence: he raised his head, and turned to the shouting, jumping, waving filly. The crowd was thick, but most ponies in Ponyville were pretty polite, so it didn't take more than a few muttered apologies to get him out of the storm's center. He'd left home today comfortably draped in his cloak, as was basically a necessity; but he couldn't help but feel the burning stares of the million slighted ponies he'd left behind without his hood on. He'd argued against the proposed notion that he go the day without it pulled up, but he'd soundly lost that fight. It was 'creepy and weird,' apparently. Apple Bloom had a very good influence when it came to subjecting him. He left the crowd behind with creeping tendrils of shame and worry on his neck, but he managed to keep it off his tired face as he trotted towards the filly as wearily as he was wary. He came up shortly to the side of the stand colored very pink and blue, and let his sagging eyes wander over little shelves and stands full of what looked to be intricate little statues. His eyes flicked up to the smiling unicorn shop pony who'd apparently painted her stand to match herself, then down to his side: to the glimmering auburn eyes fixed on him. "Well..." he muttered, staring down at the little statues again. "-what's all the fuss about?" He let his hoof shuffle out of the confines of his cloak to poke at a statue of a dolphin leaping out of painted water. There were a lot of them of that particular design, actually. His eyes briefly caught on that smiling visage behind the stall again, and the pink, spinning, flashy soul within her chest. The same painted colors of the stand she stood behind. A lot of dolphins, and a lot of ego. His attention was caught out of accusations and negativity by the exact opposite force contained within one slightly peaky voice. "Well, I was talkin' to Miss... uh-" Apple Bloom's voice faltered and stopped, and he turned to see little yellow cheeks crinkled in apprehension, and her mouth gaping in a lasting syllable. He stared at the uncertain face of his young companion while she stayed stuck on extending that expletive, before turning to look meaningfully at the moderately more strained face of the named 'miss uh.' She caught his eye, and after a moment: his meaning. "Sea Swirl," she supplied earnestly, in a markedly less haughty tone than he'd expected. "Sea Swirl!" Apple Bloom shouted almost instantly after, making the two of them jump. "I was talkin' to Miss Sea Swirl, and she was tellin' me all 'bout her little- what'cha call 'em- statueits!" In the deluge of words that came from Apple Bloom's mouth following her embarrassment: he could only turn to watch just in time to see her screw her eyebrows together, before confidently nodding as she said the wrong thing. He frowned at the mangled word, and filed a mental note away to ask her sister how she was doing in school. "I think you mean 'statuettes'," he corrected the filly, to which she frowned back at him. "That's what ah said." He stared unamusedly at the eight year old's honestly puzzled face, before rolling his eyes and returning to the stand. "Which one?" he asked with a lilt of finality, as he scanned the expanse of apple-sized figures set on black stands. Lots of dolphins, a couple miscellaneous animals, a... He tilted his head, and lit his horn to levitate the... was it a dragon? Red and scaly, and standing intimidatingly at exact scale to the nearby rabbits and birds. Not quite as intimidating as history would have ponies believe, apparently. He'd never seen a dragon before, living in the backwaters of Ponyville: but he guessed this was what they typically looked like? He should really pick up a book on the subject; it was honestly a little shocking in the moment to recognize his lack of knowledge on the subject. Strange how he'd never been interested until now. He turned the little statue around in front of his face as he admired it from each angle. Very nice craftsponyship; it was obvious this was a passion. The details were meticulous and the... wood? It looked- felt- smelled like painted wood. The wood was smoothed and sanded. No price tag to be found. That meant one of two things. Apple Bloom spoke again while he was busy scowling back at the indeterminably priced roaring face. "Yeah, ah thought these were real nice to look at, and ah found one that Applejack'd really like!" He turned away from his childish staring contest to see a little statue held aloft on a little yellow hoof. He set the probably expensive dragon down, and focused more intently on the little statue as it raised into a red glow. A guitar. A guitar? A guitar. An acoustic guitar. Well, unless he was missing something big and exciting, he didn't really see the appeal. It didn't look to be anything overtly special, on first glance. Even as he turned it around and around, and even upside-down to check the underside of its stand: he couldn't see anything particularly distinguishing. Did it play music? Was it a music box? Was it a secret weapon? Did it shoot lasers? Wrong on all fronts, it was just... a guitar. As well made as the rest of the statues, sure, but still just a guitar. He frowned, and let the guitar drift away from his face. "Okay, why this? Applejack doesn't play guitar," he said, turning to stare incredulously at the filly. Did Applejack want to play the guitar or something? She'd never seemed the musical type to him, and if she was and he'd somehow misjudged her: then her and her beefy hooves would probably be more fit playing the drums or something. Like the child she was: Apple Bloom leapt up to snatch the statue out of his magical grasp; completely ignoring his gasp of surprise and following angry stare as she turned it around and around in her hooves as she inspected it. "Well, she don't play anymore, but she told me once a long time ago 'bout her gettin' lessons an' such when she was real little." He blinked emptily for a moment, before leaning in to squint suspiciously at the figurine. "Must've been really little, since she never told me about it," he muttered as he glared at the instrument, as if it was somehow responsible. He felt a little betrayed, to be honest. That seemed like the kind of thing a pony would tell their best friend at some point over a bit under eight or so years. Was she ashamed? Was she bad at it? Neither of those things were great reasons to just throw the hobby away. Certainly nothing to hide. Maybe she was famous or something. Hiding her talent to live the simple life of a farmer after suffering through an early childhood of stardom? Nah, not Applejack. Way too big of a lie for her. Even as his glare grew more heated, it would've been impossible to miss the way Apple Bloom's face softened, and fell. "Ah think she said it was mom who taught her how..." she murmured, as very obvious mist began to cloud her eyes to follow the clear sadness in her downcast voice. The turn in emotion happened so quickly, he nearly missed his que to react at all. It would've been easy to just let the small cloud of sadness fester, unnoticed. As it was: he was still staring harshly at the guitar statue before the situation eventually registered, and his eyes went wide; his neck protesting with a pang as he did a literal double-take. Apple Bloom's soul, normally shining bright red and bouncing with inexhaustible energy, was beginning to dull and tire before his eyes. Apple Bloom was sad. Apple Bloom looked like she was about to cry. Applejack wasn't here to cheer her up. What in Tartarus's name was he supposed to do with a crying eight year-old?! Okay, don't panic. He had plenty of time to think of a solution. Let somepony else handle it? Think of a better solution. This was exactly why he didn't like children. They were like little ticking time bombs of indeterminate emotion, and any little thing could set them off. Falling down, off-hoof comments by strangers, off-hoof comments by close family friends: they would just cry for anything. They were also loud and whiny, besides. And annoying. Messy. Unfortunately, as much as he wished otherwise: thinking up insults wasn't helping him or Apple Bloom. When would that talent finally yield something useful for him?! The thought of action was threatening to become reality, and a nervous, petrifying energy was spreading like stone through his hooves as he instinctively stepped away from the now-sniffling filly. Every emotion he had was leaning towards getting him far away from the very thought of comfort, but every measure of sense he had was fighting with horrible contradiction to make him stay and attend the child you idiot. Why weren't ponies ever easy?! He bit his lip to hide a heavy swallow that he half-wished would somehow flush him away, and turned to shoot a pleading look at the shoppony who could probably provide better cheer to his practical family than he ever could. The pony whose name he'd already forgotten was staring at Apple bloom with a similar wide-eyed apprehension- as was customary for a sniffling filly- but as his eye caught hers, her face turned down in a silently venomous glare. She jerked her head towards the obvious tragedy in the making, as if he couldn't see the problem already thanks very much!. Now he was being judged by a stranger. He seethed a breath in through clenched teeth, and sent a prayer to still-unknown gods. Stars help him if he was going to out himself as the social pariah that everypony who knew him already knew him as. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure nopony else was watching, before taking a cautious step towards Apple Bloom. She looked up with curious eyes tinged with tiny flecks of tears as he sidled up to her side, but he covertly averted his eyes as he painfully stretched his hooves toward her. This was going to hurt. This already hurt. With a groan of embarrassed effort and a quiet gasp of sudden surprise, he pulled the impromptly sad child into the most awkward embrace he had unfortunately ever known. She was small enough in comparison that she mostly fit under the wide spread of his cloak, and short enough that his head could comfortably rest on hers, though her bow was tickling his chin a little. The spot where his hooves circled around her tiny midriff was warm and fuzzy, as ponies tended to be. All in all: the ill-fitting side-hug wasn't actually too bad. Though the guitar statue she still held was jabbed into his side kind of painfully. Oh well, he could rue his inanimate aggressor later, when he wasn't in public. "There... there.." he managed to grind out in the most natural tone he could manage through the pain of every one of his muscles rebelling at once. He was fairly sure his face was making new expressions by the second. "I'm... I'm- here, for... you?" Oh, how had it come to this? She'd seemed perfectly fine in the morning, if a little insistent about asking him a million and one questions about cutie marks: but she'd calmed down eventually. Then it was just the hours of fruitless shopping, where she'd been nothing but exactly happy the whole time throughout! How quickly melancholy could strike, paving the way for regret to set in. He could relate to her sadness, of course. It wasn't that far in the past when he'd been.... The thought shut down mere seconds into its infancy, and it was locked into a box that was then thrown into a deep hole that he paved over with the comfortable sensation of contact. He was coping, even a year now after it had happened, but he still didn't like thinking about it. Stars, how had it come to this? He knew. This was all because he'd thought, against every reason he'd thought to leverage: it would be anything even close to an approximation of a good idea to buy Applejack a Hearts and Hooves day present. If he could go back to a week ago when he'd had the crazy idea, he'd bludgeon himself to death with the nearest oversized book. "Um.. Light?" A muffled voice floated up through the curtain of his cloak, thankfully providing an easy out to the trap his thoughts had fallen into. In lieu of actual words that might've cost effort to make, he hemmed a questioning hum as he shifted his head around on hers. It must've tickled, because a muffled laugh reverberated through his chest along with the pressure of two tiny hooves pushing him away. He let the filly's head rise up out of the probably comfy prison he'd subjected her to, and stared down with a questioning frown at the... smiling face? "Not that I don't like hugs, but... ah thought you really didn't?" The bright tone of Apple Bloom's voice was nearly as confusing as the general lack of tears rolling down her cheeks, and all he could manage to do for a moment was blink owlishly as a response. Um... Wasn't Apple Bloom supposed to be really sad... or... something? He bit his lip as he slowly pushed Apple Bloom out to hoof's length, as she blinked down at his stiff hooves. Her soul was bright red and bouncy again, as if it had never slowed in the first place. His tongue flicked out over his sore lips as he cast a skittish glace to the shoppony still watching the two of them: where he received a quirked eyebrow and a shrug. Okay, it was weird. "Uh..." he started uneasily, struggling to keep his eyes from darting around nervously. It was so tempting to just drop the child and run. He finally managed to center himself on the sight of Apple Bloom's face, though the haze in his head told him his cheeks were beginning to flush. "I- I was... um... comforting you?" His tongue felt like it was swelling in his mouth, and his face was threatening to curl into very strange shapes. It had been a long time since he'd been this embarrassed. Maybe not since he was a foal, and he'd followed a stranger that had looked like his mother home. Apple Bloom seemed to ignore his red face and sweating brow, thankfully, as she just smiled carelessly at him. "What for?" she chirped brightly; not even giving him a chance to open his mouth and answer before she was giggling happily and pushing him away. He sat in a sort of daze as Apple Bloom jumped to her hooves from where he'd pulled her down for a hug, turning promptly to the shoppony that was also staring at her kind of widely. "So, we can buy this, right?" she said, stretching to jam the guitar statue that she held up into the vendor's view. If he'd been a little less taken aback, he would have told Apple Bloom that it was rude to shove things into ponies' faces like she was very excitedly doing. But as it was: his mouth was stuck in a strange little 'o' shape, so he settled for just thinking it. Like he did just then. Yes, very good on that discipline, Light Flow. Excellent role model. Apple Bloom's lean into the shoppony's face became more and more insistent as the statue maker struggled to say anything other than a drawn-out syllable of confusion; cautiously tilting on her own lean as her eyes darted behind her. But of course, the further that the pony leaned back, the more Apple Bloom leaned forward; until the little filly had practically clambered right onto the counter in her seeming efforts to make the poor vendor as uncomfortable as possible. It was very interesting to watch, seeing as what's-her-name could have simply pushed the filly away at any time. She was much bigger and much older and just generally completely in the right for doing so. But instead of doing the intelligent, correct thing: she was letting herself be subdued; by someone half her size, no less. Was this because of Apple Bloom's overbearing, childish energy, or because the other pony was overly shy? She hadn't seemed the sort, but maybe his ability to read ponies was rusting? He hadn't gotten a great look at her soul, and now it was hard to because of her retreat and Apple Bloom pushing in on her, so maybe there was something he'd missed. He'd been slacking on his soul reading, anyway. To be honest: seeing them everywhere he went for so long had made the ordeal a bit plain, and he'd been a little less enthusiastic than he normally was about the whole thing as of late. It was such a vague science in the first place, anyway; sometimes it was harder than usual to get himself psyched. Maybe it was time to reorient himself? Give greater emphasis to that part of himself? Soul first, face later? Maybe. With the refreshing thought of self-improvement, he let himself come out of his haze; standing up. He turned to brush his hoof along the edge of his cloak to get rid of any possible accumulated dust, while he simultaneously lit his horn. He'd lost some cool points there, he could admit, but hopefully he was about to gain them back. As Apple Bloom's grin began to edge into the realm of manic, and her hoof teetered on the edge of falling: a red glow shimmered suddenly around her waist. He grit his teeth as inconspicuously as possible, before heaving the advancing filly off the stand, and away from the terrified pony huddled in the back of her own stall. He huffed and puffed, and his horn shone and sparked with desperate light as he directed the filly's descent toward the ground; eventually setting her down to a rough landing onto her hooves beside him. The light around his horn sputtered and died, and he gasped out a very fatigued breath as his head hung from the exertion. Apple Bloom was shooting a dirty, pouting face his way, but he let it wash off his back. He'd wanted to give the impression of effortless mastery, but that might've been a bit too much to ask of his aching head. He really needed to work out. Maybe another thing he'd have to reorient himself on. Oh, all sorts of new goals today; how convenient. With a collecting wheeze: he raised his head authoritatively, and did his best to return the glare the filly was throwing him. He sent a silent apology to himself, before lighting his horn again, and wrenched the little statue out of Apple Bloom's hooves. He ignored the head pain, the indignant cry, and the filly that came jumping at his side: to hold the statue high in the air where everypony could see it and not touch it. He shot one last childish leer at the child that was literally dogging his heels, before turning his attention to the statue maker. His eyes softened as he took in the thankful smile on her face, before he cleared his throat, and drew in a sharp breath. "I'd like to buy this, please." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- "So, are those 'statueit" things supposed to be that pricey?" At hearing the voice, Light Flow's weary gait stopped in the middle of a dragged hoofstep, as his entire body seemed to sag.. He glared openly at the familiar worn dirt path under his hooves, before speaking to address the lightly curious tone. "No. No they are not." His only immediate response was a silence that he didn't bother to check was heavy or not; instead restarting his dragging trot from where it had stopped. The pitched call of birdsong in the afternoon country air itched at his ear, and it flicked in irritation. "Well, why'd you suppose Miss Swirl charged you so much?" He stopped again, despite a little voice in his head that said he should just keep walking, and turned his head to the source of the voice. Apple Bloom stared from behind him with a genuinely curious tilt to her head, though her sincerity did very little to ease the unintentional sting. He tried not to glare back at her, he really did, but however naïve her intentions were: his purse was a lot lighter than he'd expected after today because of her. The thought and the lack of weight to his very meagre savings gnawed at him, grinding his teeth from the gravity of it. He already pinched just about every bit he could, and here he was just throwing money around like it was nothing because Apple Bloom had pissed off some dumb gift seller. However stormy his expression was, Apple Bloom either didn't notice or didn't care; because she just continued to stare at him so thoughtfully and so thoughtlessly. It must've been the blessing of youth. Or ignorance. Both? She had a little of both. Whatever it was, it really just made it exceedingly hard to stay outwardly mad. Oh, his mind rebelled at the thought, certainly; clawing and grasping at the receding tide of intermittent rage in a desperate attempt at perpetuity, but he just couldn't quite muster up the energy. He just couldn't stay lastingly mad at an Apple. Slowly: his brow raised, and his jaw eased. He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment; eventually easing them open again. What tension he'd felt in his shoulders for the beginnings of a shout bled off; leaving a dragging, tired feeling in its place. "I don't know, Bloom." He tried to keep the melancholy that swept over the fire from entering his voice, but the sickly words as they fell off his tongue still dripped with it. He frowned at himself; not staying to see her reaction before he was turning around and continuing on his way down the path to Sweet Apple Acres. The country air was nice. He didn't stop to enjoy it often enough; even now living directly in the country. It was a quiet moment after that: full of the sweet sounds of swaying and chirping; before the patter of tiny hoofsteps came racing up to his side. A weight bumped against his legs in a sudden impact; sending him staggering forward and to the side in an uncertain moment, before he regained his walking balance and managed a half-hearted glare at his pint-sized aggressor. Apple Bloom, the excited little kid she was: kept his pace as she'd latched onto it; smiling up at him with undampened cheer from her place glued to his side. "Well, it sure wasn't nice a' her, huh?" she chirped up at him. If the bright affection in her voice hadn't managed to make his heart flutter as it very much was, the openly joyful laugh that she loosed as she good-naturedly bonked her head against his side would've. He uttered a wordless syllable of confusion as the child ran out in front of him energetically, not stopping to look back as the universally pleasant sound of giggling floated back to him. His gait slowed to a halt as he was left staring after the retreating form of the child, before she eventually disappeared beyond the distant shape of a white gateway. The threshold to her home. Home. Her home. He blinked. Then again. And a third time for good measure, before he realized he wasn't actually thinking anything. He shook his head roughly to kickstart his tired brain, moments before a full body shiver crept down his spine to his tail. The electric sensation leapt off the ends of his hooves, biting his heels and making him start forward in a nervous jump. Walking- as he so often found- helped him acclimate to the clime of his thoughts, and diving into the well of his emotions was less of a chore than it would've been as he started back down the path. Well, what was there to realize? He didn't like children, as a rule. Their mannerisms and general naivete were sickening, and contact with them in any form was unpleasant to his palette in every way. But... He liked Apples. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- He'd long since passed through the familiar white archway heralding his arrival to the farm before he found Apple Bloom. Passing the house and the barn with no clues; it was a resoundingly boring period of walking through the same-y sights of apple trees and not much else before he'd caught a whisper of noise on the sweet air. Sounded like a voice. Sounded like a female voice. Four ponies it could've realistically been, and he knew he wouldn't be following Big Macintosh's voice, so naturally: he followed the pitch to its source. He could've left well enough alone and gone home at that point, but he'd taken on a certain amount of responsibility when he'd gone shopping with Apple Bloom. Anything less than hoof-delivering her straight to her house or her guardians would've been reckless and frankly unconscionable. Not for nothing: since her guardians were the three scariest ponies he could count besides Her Royal Highness Herself. He'd probably be more comfortable pissing the Goddess off, actually. At least She'd make his death by incineration fast. And so it was with thoughts of a slow and sound beating that he followed what became more and more evident to be voices. Trees and trees passed in every direction as he navigated the maze, and gradually: the voices started to identify themselves. As the indeterminably fictitious force of fate would have it, he came up just behind the clearing the voices emanated from, helpfully and completely hidden by a particularly large tree. He couldn't at all see who was in the clearing- though he already knew it was Apple Bloom and Applejack- and they couldn't see him, either. They were chattering at each other about some business or another that he couldn't really understand because he'd missed the start of the conversation, but the opportunity was not lost on him. If he wanted to, he could've very easily eavesdropped for as long as he liked, before eventually revealing himself, and pretending as though he'd only just arrived. It was a nefarious plan he contemplated as he stared up at the formidable oaken giant. Yes, the exact kind of thing a true evil paragon would leverage to unearth some juicy blackmail or some such opportunity. Nopony would ever know, and he'd have the unforeseen advantage in any race it would afford him. What depths of gossip and secret sayings could he unearth if only he just took the time to spy. Such a simple act of delightfully unjustly subterfuge. It was entirely and completely dastardly. "Hey!" he called as he trotted loudly out from behind the tree, because he had honestly never been that good of a villain. His sudden entrance stopped the conversation between sisters in progress, and drew both sets of varying attention to him as he approached. Applejack stood next to a half-full bucket of apples at the clearing's subjective opposite, thankfully not seeming angry at him for once. His eyes flicked down to take a peek at her soul, and sure enough: the reddish hue and measured pounding that he had taken to view as a sign of anger wasn't present in the dark golden orb. It was time to get back into that habit. Apple Bloom sat just across from her, leaning on the bucket of apples; now looking his way with bright eyes and visible excitement, because she never seemed to not be. "Well lookie who decided to show up! Figured Apple Bloom'd left you too lost in yer own dust to find yer way here." The apparently instinctive tease that Applejack threw his way was tempered by the laughter in her eyes and the easy smile she wore. She leaned back on three hooves as one came to tip her recently ever-present hat up, letting the laughing lines of her orange face shine in the sunlight. He stared for a moment, before old reflexes kicked in, and he averted his eyes from the beautiful sight. "Just because your Grandmare calls me a shut-in doesn't mean I'm dumb enough to forget where you live." The steady drone of his own unamused words helped to distract his wandering mind, and by the time he looked back: the particular sunbeam that had caught on Applejack's face had moved on, and she didn't look quite as pretty anymore. Though it was only quite. It still made his heart race a little to stare directly at her, even as her face turned down in a surprisingly genuine frown. "It doesn't? Well, somepony's gotta break the bad news to Granny, then; don't ya think, Apple Bloom?" she said in inspiringly mocking tone, turning with exaggeration to her named little sister. Apple Bloom, for her part, seemed to have caught quickly onto the joke; though she couldn't quite manage to stop little giggles from escaping out of the turned corners of her mouth as she did her best to nod gravely. Her best was still snickering a little, though. Applejack sighed, and shook her head in insultingly obvious mock disappointment. "Darn shame it is 'bout yer competence an' such. Cryin' shame." The jokes at his expense were obviously funny to the Apple siblings, but he had never found an especially large joy in laughing at himself. He settled for rolling his eyes instead, before waving his hooves in the air as he mimed an exaggerated laugh that ended in a completely stoic frown. Hah hah look at Light oh he's such a mess let's all point and laugh for the nine hundredth time in seven years. Applejack seemed just as fazed by his antics as ever, as she just blew a scoff out of the corner of her smile, and waved her hoof at him. "Yeah, yeah: 's all real funny, and we can stand 'round laughin' all day and again, but then ah'd never finish the chores." Some of the pure humor in her eyes bled out as she fixed him with a more serious, daring look. A challenging look. "Reckon' you got somethin' else on your mind, 'sides." Okay, the way she was smiling at him was getting a little creepy. The first rule of talking with Applejack was to always keep a safe distance from her, so he took a measured step back before responding. "I... I'm not entirely sure what you mean," he said warily, inwardly making plans to escape if things got hairy. Though, he didn't think there had ever been a time when he'd managed to successfully run away from Applejack. While he really didn't know what she meant, Applejack certainly did: as was evident by the predatory sparkle in her eye as she openly leered at him. Her smile as it stretched across her face was- very worryingly- both knowing, and accusatory. "Well, the way I hear it: you've got somethin' for me." He swallowed heavily as Applejack's tone turned uncharacteristically sly, and her eyebrows jumped as her head tilted just that little bit. "Some kinda... present? For the holiday?" How did she know that? Who would have- His somewhat fearful seethe turned rotten in a single second of realization, and the situation seemed to blacken to his eyes as he turned to stare disappointedly at the forgotten third party of the conversation. Apple Bloom seemed oblivious to her sister's violently forward advances on him- as well as what was happening at all- as she seemed preoccupied with playing around with the apples in the large bucket. "Apple Bloom!" One apple went bravely flying into the air as she jumped to her hooves, and oddly threw her head in every random direction in a panic. "What?! What?! I was payin' attention, I swear!" As she found few clues to the shock behind her, below her, or above her: she eventually landed on him and his angry frown. Realization seemed to dawn over the loudmouth filly in a gradual turn, which ended with her rubbing her neck with a sheepish smile. "Er... whoops?" The apology that wasn't really an apology wouldn't turn back time, and neither would throwing an apple at the child who had ruined his surprise. He knew that, but wow was it difficult to resist the urge anyway. It'd be so satisfying just to hear the bonk. Not like it hadn't happened before. He was eyeing a particularly ripe looking fruit on the ground when Applejack's face tilted into his field of narrowed view, waving her hoof to get his attention. He let her draw him from his violent urges to petulantly focus on her tilted frown. "Now now, ain't no need to throw blame 'round. No shame in buyin' a Heart's n' Hooves gift, and while y'all shouldn't go 'round spoilin' surprises-" Applejack emphasized that part heavily as she tilted her head back to Apple Bloom, who nodded along penitently, before tilting her head back to him. "-it's near enough to the day that it don't really matter much." "But-" His interjected shout was quickly cut off as Applejack pressed a hoof to his mouth in an effective shush. His eyes crossed to glare at the orange limb before focusing in on the pony in his personal space as she shook her head reproachfully. "Uh-uh. Ain't no use for buts 'cept fer sittin' an'..." The next word seemed to stall on Applejack's lips as she started momentarily. She must not have thought that saying all the way through. Oh, was that a blush on her cheeks? There was certainly a bashful, red glow to her soul. Applejack's eyes flicked to their corners, to about the spot where Apple Bloom was sitting and watching with a tilted head. He caught her stare as she returned, and met her with a slowly quirked eyebrow. Well? What else were butts good for, Applejack? Whether she was embarrassed about nature's call or the nasty, she seemed perfectly chagrined to have alluded to it in front of her little sister. So chagrined that she actually averted her eyes from his as she coughed, and tried to hide her quickly rising blush in front of a hoof. "Well... There just ain't no use for 'em." she muttered, as she seemingly tried to brush her flush away. A gesture that, surprisingly, seemed to actually work for her. She coughed again as the last of the red on her face amazingly swept away, and stomped her hoof onto the ground as her expression hardened. Tried to, at least. He didn't really see the hardness of her glare blinded as he was by his own smug smile. Did this wonderful occasion of embarrassment call for some lofty mocking? Oh, it just might've. The first humming snicker was so sweet, and it only got better as he added one, then another two; aided by his raised, pointed hoof at Applejack's dumb, steaming face. Was it foalish? Yes. Was it funny? Yes. Unfortunately, he didn't get to laugh like that for long. He never did. Applejack only suffered his mocking for a few short moments before she rudely swatted his hoof out of the air, all the while glaring sharp daggers at him. She ignored his quiet exclamation of pain as he cradled his stinging hoof to his chest, and rolled her eyes around her glare. "Yuk it up, mister. Just give your present here an' get on to gittin' on. Some of us have work to do." Well, brutalizing or not: she sort of had a point. He was here, and she knew, so there wasn't much reason to wait. Tradition had never really mattered much to him, anyway; he had just been more upset about the breach of trust. All forgiven in the wake of seeing Applejack squirm, though. A small smile worked its way onto his face even as he nodded his assent, just because he couldn't quite forget her mishap. "Alright, alright. You win, I'll give you your present and 'get on'." The snide tone for her weird saying probably wasn't necessary, but he was feeling a good kind of vindictive. It wasn't every day that Applejack was the thoughtless one. He'd mark a notch for this one, alright. He hummed an amusing little song to himself as he lit his horn, which Applejack only glared harder for. She could try to murder him with her eyes all she wanted, but it wouldn't change the past. The saddlebag hidden under his cloak clicked open with a 'click', and he grasped around inside sightlessly for a moment before the ethereally tactile touch of wood brushed behind his eyes. Found it; now for the moment of truth. The little statue raised into his cloak to render him momentarily indecent, before it fluttered back down to his fur as a brown little acoustic guitar floated into sight. He held it purposefully to the side so that he could get as best a profile he could get for the reaction; watching raptly as Applejack's eyes widened, and her pupils dilated just that little bit. Her eyebrows softened, and her muscles unclenched. Her frown didn't bleed or jump away for a smile, but it did fall open just slightly for a pure little expression of surprise. Oh, how he loved this. Applejack was so honestly expressive; she was an excellent muse for watching facial tics. He tilted his head to the side a little to catch a tiny little tightening in her jaw, and her barely opened mouth drifted fully closed as her throat contracted, and swallowed. A suddenly dry throat? Holding back tears? Beautiful. His eyes flicked down to her soul to see a blue sheen over the golden coloring, even as the color itself brightened, and the orb began to pick up spinning speed. Souls didn't really change their color so brazenly, only adopting different sorts of external hues. If he wasn't remembering wrong, a blue-ish tint to its general shine meant some kind of sadness. Thankfully very standard. It'd be much harder to identify if sadness was red or something. His eyes drifted away just in time to catch the corners of Applejack's mouth as they twitched, and curled up at their very ends. Not a full, displayed smile: but perhaps more meaningful. Such a genuine expression of emotion that it independently moved her muscles to react. If he wasn't completely insane and seeing things: Applejack liked her present. Score one for him. "Well, don't that just beat all..." she muttered in a quiet echo, as she lowered to a seat, and her hooves gently raised up toward the floating statue. That was his cue to lower it towards her in kind, and to firmly place it into her outstretched hooves. He held on perhaps a second too long to enjoy the contact, but he let it go as Applejack began to pull the statue towards her, to stare down at it with quiet eyes. He felt almost like he should've said something. 'Here you go', at least. But.. as he silently watched the subtle crinkling of wonder in the corners of her eyes, and the.. feeling on her face as she tilted it this way and that... Maybe some moments were just private. After a long couple of moments of just staring, Applejack chuckled softly. Her eyes raised up to fall on him with softness he rarely ever saw from her, and a purely simple smile. "It's real thoughtful, Light. Real thoughtful. How'd y'all know?" Her voice wasn't choked or hoarse, and she didn't look anywhere close to crying, but she didn't need to. The plain gratitude was all there; on her face and in her voice. He'd had his doubts, he really had. But it seemed like Apple Bloom had known better after all. His eyes skipped for a moment to catch a glimpse at the child, and a vague urge to groan in frustration rose in him as he only saw a misshapen lump topped by a red bow in the bucket of apples. He'd say thank you later, as was polite: but he'd be very reticent about it. But for now, it was time to be reticent for Applejack. He put on his best face of nonchalance as he eased into a sideways lean, and kept his eyes breezily searching their corners. "You know... I just.. heard a tip that uh... guitars might mean a certain something to you. Thought it'd be cute on your nightstand, or a shelf, or something." A soft chuckle made his eyes instinctively dart down to its source, and he blinked as he saw Applejack staring down at the statue with a smile. Her eyes... The lines of her face, usually so hard when turned in his direction... She was so soft. So uncharacteristically open... He had unfettered access to look at her soul at any time he wanted, but... he couldn't remember many times he'd seen her in such an unguarded way. He felt a little dirty. In as quick of an instant as the motion took: Applejack's head tilted back up to him, eyes and all. He blinked once in abject surprise as they stared at each other for that moment, before his brain caught up to what he'd been doing, and he was suddenly aware that the warm feeling on his face wasn't the country air. He quickly averted his eyes for his own sake as he tried in what was probably vain to fight his blush away, and swallowed. "It- It's really no big deal!" he blurted, feeling far less breezy than he had just before. "I just- I thought it'd be nice, you know?! I- I mean- I know I don't normally get you a Hearts and Hooves Day gift, but- I- I just thought- maybe just for once, I-" That insufferable guffaw. A hale and hearty laugh from the chest, deeper than any tone he'd probably ever be able to manage. He cringed bodily away from the noise as he tried to keep his eyes firmly down, very much away from the sight of Applejack doubling up in laughter as she so often did when he so often humiliated himself. It made him want to tear his ears off and eat them; just, if anything, to occupy the nervous energy that picked at him. Applejack could only laugh at him for so long, and she luckily hit that point a bit before she usually did. She came off her high of humor with a breathy sigh, and even though he was staying well away from looking at her: he could guess she might've mussed with her hat a little. It was a habit of hers. Not that he took particular notice of her habits. "Aw shucks, Light. Yer the act that jus' keeps goin'! Gettin' all worked up over just a little gift." Her tone was teasing and airy, but he didn't really see the joke in it. A Hearts and Hooves present was... Okay, probably not that big of a deal. He used to buy his mother holiday gifts, after all, so it wasn't sacred or anything. But this was the first time he'd ever bought anything for Applejack! Didn't that deserve some kind of... notice or something?! Didn't it have due meaning to it?! Wasn't it... Wasn't he... Should he not have bothered? The subtle sound of hoofsteps brought his over sensitized system fading out of its depressive nosedive, and his eyes snapped up to stare into two close pools of green just before his withers felt the weight of a hoof. A smile barely seen under the glittering jeweled eyes filled with mirth and tease. "C'mere, sugarcube. I can see where 'yer head's goin', and ah think it's well past time 'fer a hug." Her voice was knowing and friendly, but not oppressively emotional or suggestive. All it implied was simply that: a friendly hug. He could feel the wave of sudden, moody sadness that had taken him beginning to break on the rocky shores of the suggested motion. A smile was already threatening to muscle in on his perfectly cultivated expressive sulk, and the heady sigh he blew through it as his head lolled did little to stop the consuming tide of camaraderie. A hug didn't sound so bad. Even just between friends. He hardly even tensed as he let himself fall onto his haunches, and pulled Applejack by her hoof into him. One hoof came up around her warm midriff before he could think about it, and his second only barely hesitated to follow suit as he felt a similar grasp wind around his own extremities a moment after. Initiative, look at him: and with barely any reluctance. Maybe the holiday was getting to him? He could test whether he was under the influence of mind-altering love chemicals in the air some other time; right now, he just wanted to enjoy the rare embrace. Stars, was she always so warm? Were all ponies like that? Was it supposed to feel so nice? He didn't exactly get many chances to get touchy-feely with.. anypony, really; especially now that he was... A finely tuned sense of danger alerted him to the mood-affecting thought before it could even dare to have an infancy, and he discarded it with burning urgency. Had he overtly tensed? He didn't feel any noticeable change in the hug, so probably hopefully not. He let his head shuffle down from where it was laying on the somewhat coarse strands of unruly braid hair, to squeeze his eyes shut and smother himself in the familiar salted scent of sweat and faint apple shampoo. It was fine. He was here, in the moment, in a very comfortable embrace with his best friend. Applejack was his best friend, and she was all he needed. No need to think about other things long past; the present was all that mattered to him. It didn't even have to go any farther than that. He was content with the way things were. Could be. Was. Was he? Sure he was. As much as he didn't want it to, the hug had to end eventually. He murmured discontentedly as two hard hooves that felt softer than they were gradually drifted off their hold on his back, and a smiling voice whispered in his ear that it was time to let go. But she was so warm. He took one last deep breath that ended in a fatigued sigh as he let his hooves fall away. Away from his best friend who he could never just ask for a hug. He leaned back and tried to mumble some kind of thanks through his frown, but he wasn't sure the noise even cleared his throat as more than a cough as he instinctively tried to stare anywhere else but the pony pulling away. Pulling away from the hug she never offered because he actively told her not to. Did good villains deny themselves this much? "Hey." As much as he kind of didn't want to look at Applejack, he couldn't very well ignore her. He was kind of curious- did her voice sound a bit warbly? He cautiously dragged his eyes to Applejack's face still only a little more than a hoof-length away, where she was looking a little... red? Was her face a little flushed? Was that subtle flick of her eyes a bit bashful? His semi-ashamed stare grew slightly bewildered as Applejack rubbed one hoof over the other in a nervous gesture that was showing on her face. "I.. I think ah might have a little present 'fer you, too." she said- yes, that was a little waver in her voice! Well, his mind was absolutely rampant with speculation, now! Applejack looked positively full to bursting with some kind of nervous, embarrassed anticipation; one could only imagine what scandalous thoughts lay behind that tinted face and vinegar eyes- It happened so fast. So chaste. So quick. One leaned motion in then out like it had never happened at all. Shameful, expedient escalation in a single second of weakness. In one moment, before his tired mind could register: Applejack had kissed him on the cheek. His brain caught up. Synapses fired. Nerves reconnected, and feeling came rushing in. His vision faded and everything cut out for a moment as the world spun on its axis; and when it came back his face was burning. In a flash: he slapped a hoof over the warmest spot on his face, as if anypony there hadn't just seen what had happened. But... but what if somepony else had seen? Big Macintosh, Granny Smith, a random pony lost in the apple fields- his life loved making nonsensical, terrible things happen to him! He spun his head in every direction he could think of, hurriedly eliminating every hiding spot that made sense. Trees, clouds- oh, a pegasus could have seen it! That slacker Rainbow Dash just loved to spy on ponies for her little pranks; maybe she'd upgraded to blackmail?! His ears burned with growing embarrassment for every tree marked as non-suspicious and cloud double-checked as benign; it was only when he was absolutely sure the environment was completely real and pony-free that he turned back to Applejack. Her face was a half-embarrassed, half-amused mishmash of contradictory emotions that still somehow resulted in a weirdly brazen half-smile. Her eye pinched self-consciously in on itself, and it was easy to tell she was somewhere on the verge of bursting into laughter or tears. Her soul, likewise, seemed almost stilted in its motion, to his eyes. She had kissed him. She had kissed him and he didn't know what to do or think and it didn't look like she did either. He could only imagine what he looked like right now; all he could manage to tell through the heat on his cheeks was that his mouth was moving. Moving: but not quite making any sound even though he knew he was trying pretty hard to say something? Oh, no: he knew why nothing was happening. He didn't know what to say. "Um..." That was a good start! It lit poor Applejack's face with an awful anticipation, and it gave him even less time to think of what to say! Nice going, idiot! Lead your best friend on when you know very well that you're too dumb to speak! His eyes flew once more to his environment; wasn't there anything that could give him some clue as to respond? Trees: he could hit her with an apple for a quick getaway! No, that was awful; what was wrong with him?! Everything and nothing he hadn't already checked ten seconds ago; little remained for him to draw on, so where did he go from here?! Time was running out; it'd been too long since he'd said anything and the little creases in Applejack's face were beginning to smooth over in a long stretch of disappointed sadness- what was he supposed to do when somepony other than his mother kissed him?! His desperation peaked, his eyes stopped; landed on the one thing of any substance in the endless expanse of too much green. Red on yellow with auburn eyes sitting in a bucket of fruit. Apple Bloom: sitting half concealed with her hooves on the rim of the apple-filled bucket, staring with a wide, curious gaze that seemed locked on the two ponies in front of her. Young. Impressionable. Absolutely no idea what was happening. The day's events flashed in a snap before his eyes, and worse: a lifetime worth of moments spent too much like this one. Apple Bloom, barely five years old: watching from behind as he pushed an unsuspecting Applejack into a lake. Laughing right along as a soggy and dripping Applejack threatened to tie him to a branch by his back hooves. Apple Bloom, six and a half: staring and listening over a plate of cookies at her family's dining table as he'd loudly announced that he hadn't brought any presents with him because he didn't believe in Hearth's Warming Eve. Apple Bloom, seven and change: learning for the first time through observation what happened to a stallion when he forgot a mare's birthday and showed up late to a party without a present. The day after, when he'd apologized with sincerity through his non-blackened eye to a slightly remorseful Applejack who had been allowed her first drink of cider the day before. Today: when he'd swallowed all pretense of unfeeling, and forced himself to give uncomfortable comfort in a time he thought had been dire. A lifetime setting bad examples for every situation; hadn't he thought he could do better?. What would it look like to those big, curious eyes if he socked Applejack in the jaw after she'd kissed him; just because it was what he once would've done? What example did he want to set? His breathing hitched another mantle as he tore his eyes away from the tangible mirror into his life of mistakes, to instead focus on the worsening regret on Applejack's face. Twisting away from any smile; falling into a horrible little clenched frown of guilt. Applejack had kissed him. Because he'd bought her a present. Because he... because he... He could hear his heart; he could hear his breathing nearly sped to time with it. What would the Light Flow who'd bought that gift say? What did he want? "-thanks." The one-syllable word spat itself out of his mouth before he'd even thought to begin, and it came out in the dull, ugly monotone of his blank, dumb stare. The instinct to regret and panic jumped with force onto his shoulders, and the primal desire to hide was so immediately violent in his mind that the scruff of his crest folded: leaving his head at an upwards angle and him gaping at the near horizon. Why did he say that? Why did he say that? Why, for the love of the stars and the moon and the writhing fury of the heavens above: did he say thanks?! This was it: the breaking point. He'd done so many terrible things to Applejack over the course of their lives, but this took the most diabetic and sugary cake that Pinkie Pie would die to get her hooves on- cake of them all! Applejack had kissed him, and he had said thanks. Drop the pretenses: the love of his life had kissed him and he'd said Tartatrus-damned 'thanks!' He was an idiot. He was the crown prince of fooldom. The duke of dope. The minister of mindless dumb stupid idiot things. He was going to have to move away. Leave Ponyville behind and start all over somewhere else for the second time in his life. Stars, he couldn't even look at Apple Bloom, now. Real good example of romance for the kid, there. Idiot. Eventually, though he knew internally that there was no recovering and that he was sure to shortly receive the most uncomfortable recompense he'd ever imagined: his body regained enough feeling for him to crane his neck back down. Well, Applejack looked confused. To be expected. Creased brow, erratically blinking eyes full of wanting confusion, mouth hanging open and almost forming words, head slightly shaking from side to side in disbelief, general air of a lost connection to reality. It was the complete package of a completely uncomprehending pony. He could barely blame her: he was right about there as well. Could he run? Should he run? No, that was dumb; he had to wait to see what happened. So, without any clue on how to make his way out: he waited. Waited for the few moments of quiet left in his life as Applejack seemed to double take in extreme length, while he knew his expression as mostly completely dead to the world. He certainly wasn't going to make the first move- he'd already made the first move for the holiday, and this was the rotten place it'd landed him- so, the only tenable thing to do now was to wait. He would sit like a good little boy, and let Applejack's prevailing sense of social know-how lead him somewhere he could stand again. He trusted her; even if to kick him in the teeth and tell him to get far away from her. At least it would be better than the awkward. "You're... welcome?" The response almost didn't register, and it seemed not to for the pony who'd spoken, either. Even as the words landed in that tone of clear confusion that had turned a sentence into a question: Applejack's voice held that slight edge of monotone reflex that his had. Barely any thought behind it at all. He blinked; once, twice. Wait, he'd taken note of her tone and all: but what had she just said? You're welcome. Kiss. Thanks. You're welcome. He... didn't know what to do anymore. He hadn't known very well what to do in the first place, but now it was somehow even worse. Where had it all gone wrong? A bird chirped, somewhere; the only sound in an otherwise completely quiet little apple orchard. A veritable void of interaction of any kind, pony or no: completely at odds with the solemn presence of two perfectly capable adults and a small child. It was bewildering, in a way, that between the three of them: only the small child was showing any signs of life at all. A small child sitting in a tub of apples because she'd been pretending it was an ocean: staring and periodically checking between what might as well have been two different sides of a very lost, confused, and slightly scared mirror. Both in front of her, but farther away: Light Flow; the family friend that had always been sort of like a highly irresponsible pseudo big brother. He'd shown up at their farm earlier in the morning than she'd ever thought possible for him, and essentially foalnapped her away for a day of shopping under the nearly belated pretense of 'bonding.' Closer: Applejack; her big sister who she'd helped Light find a Hearts and Hooves day present for. Applejack had always seemed completely uninterested in the holiday, but that was more or less why she'd thought Light's seeming advance was so exciting, and why she'd let him take her along. Apple Bloom turned for what felt like the tenth time since the silence had started, to look again at Light Flow: who still had yet to say or do anything after Applejack had, for whatever reason, merely supplied the pony with whom she'd kissed a generic platitudinal response. This was, of course, after Light had responded to said kiss with a simple thanks. Back to Applejack, and then again to Light Flow. Two gaping mouths intent on their immobile course, and four red cheeks shining through fur. Light hadn't moved or changed at all since he'd said his extremely dumb thing, but it was more surprising that Applejack had taken to mimicking him after her blunder. Now they both just stood there staring dumbly at each other, not saying anything. Apple Bloom shifted slightly to lay her head down on her hooves on the rim of the bucket; her face falling as she pouted in frustration. How was she ever gonna get the two of them together if they both froze up at a little kiss? Was she the only one here who knew anything about romance? She sighed, and let herself lean back enough to begin a sink into the bumpy embrace of her vast apple sea. Once more charting a course for the sunken treasure of McIntosh onboard the exclusive submarine Bloom. Her crewmates signaled their readiness, and with the warning blare of a siren: she left the world above behind. Sometimes it felt like she was the only one with any maturity around here.