Love Me Like You

by Scampy


Chapter 6 — The Bomb

It wasn't under the dresser.

It wasn't under the dresser.

While Sunset Shimmer had been loading their suitcases into the car, Wallflower Blush had lied about needing to use the bathroom and went back upstairs. After she locked the apartment door behind her, she walked into their bedroom, went to the dresser, and pulled the bottom drawer out as far as it would go.

And it wasn't under the dresser.

Sunset had the ring. Whether it was in her suitcase, her purse, her coat, or her pocket, she had the ring.

Wallflower had put the drawer back in its place, turned off the light, and shut the apartment door behind her. Without leaving the ring behind.

It came with them in the car.

It came with them all the way down their residential street, onto the main road, joined them on the highway. Rode with them down the tight twists and turns of the highway as it wound through magnificent conifer forests and hugged the borders of the continent where it met the ocean. Listened to the songs they played on the radio—songs they often sang together. Followed them to every truck stop, every rest stop, every picturesque vista on the way to the little cabin by the sea.

It accompanied Wallflower's every thought, every action, every breath, the final culmination of a destiny that had been chasing her through every moment since Sunset found her at the mall so many years ago. She could feel it with them in the car. In the words Sunset spoke. In the way that she held Wallflower's hand, touched her and kissed her and looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

It was there. Wallflower didn't know whether it hid in denim or leather, liner or pocket, but it was there. It was there, and there was nothing Wallflower could do to return it to its rightful place beneath the dresser. It was there, and it was real, really real, in a way that terrified her like nothing else—no aching hunger, no shout of rage, no empty asphalt beneath a lonesome parking deck—had ever scared her before.

It was there, and Sunset had it, and Wallflower was completely powerless in the face of Sunset and her love. Wallflower had tried everything she knew, with all she had, to keep the ring in its rightful place, where she at least had some semblance of control over it. As long as it was under the dresser, Wallflower had time. She had time, and some hope of hope—some tiny possibility that she could turn the tides and still save Sunset from herself.

But they were here, now, the road giving way to the expanse of sky and shore, and the tide was coming in. Sunset parked the car by the little cabin by the sea—a place they had spoken of for years, dreamed of for years, a place Wallflower had yearned to see and behold and experience herself—with the ring in the car. 

She parked it so well with something so heavy weighing the poor sedan down.

Wallflower couldn't have done that.

Wallflower couldn't do a lot of things. She couldn't sing along with any heart to all their favorite melodies on the way. She couldn't genuinely laugh at Sunset's little jokes about having drank too much coffee that morning and having to stop at every place with a bathroom. She couldn't stare out the window at the serenity that swept them up in its branches and boughs and beaches and bays, and smile. She couldn't trust herself not to fishtail the car off a cliff if Sunset asked her to take over.

Wallflower couldn't do anything except force out stunted, artificial responses when Sunset said something, or plaster on a smile when Sunset looked at her. All Wallflower could do was pretend—lying to herself that everything was okay, like she had unknowingly done for the past eight years. At least back when she'd been too stupid to realize it, she hadn't needed to lie to Sunset, too.

Sunset had driven them the entire way. With the ring in the car.

Wallflower couldn't carry the luggage into the cabin. Well, she couldn't carry Sunset's luggage into the cabin. It might fall out of her suitcase. Or her purse. Or the jacket she'd taken off halfway down the highway, because the sun was shining—even though it was fifty degrees and the forecast called for rain.

Sunset carried her luggage inside.

Wallflower couldn't enjoy the cabin. It was warm and cozy and welcoming. It smelled like saltwater and cedar and lavender and rain. It had a king-sized bed with soft sheets and extra pillows and a big flannel quilt. It had a little breakfast nook with a coffeemaker and packets of tea and extra cream and sugar. It had a fireplace with wood from the forest and a box of matches and firestarters and roasting sticks for marshmallows. It had a pristine bathroom with handmade soaps and fluffy towels and a jacuzzi tub next to a window that overlooked the ocean. It had a dimmer switch to turn all the lights down low in both of the rooms and a vase full of roses on the nightstand and chocolates on the pillows.

Wallflower couldn't enjoy the cabin, because being here meant the ring was here, somewhere amongst Sunset's overpacked suitcase and messy purse and jacket that always smelled just like her. The ring was here and even though the skies were clear, big and blue and beautiful, an endless expanse above a limitless horizon, everything felt like it was going to rain.

It was going to rain. Wallflower didn't know when. But it would.

When Sunset sat down on the king-sized bed, atop the big flannel quilt, next to Wallflower, and took her hand, what did she say?

Wallflower didn't know.

Something. Something that wasn't about the ring. Something about maybe going into town—the little village by the sea that they loved.

The town with all the neat little shops that sold candy and caramel corn and seashells and sweaters and treasures aplenty. Stores that always had something unique, something special, that Sunset would find, sometimes hiding in her jacket or in her purse or even in her hands before she showed Wallflower what she'd bought her.

With restaurants that boasted the bounty of the sea, clam chowder and shrimp and scallops and crab—the first things Sunset had been willing to eat, when she and Wallflower visited here many years ago and there was nothing vegetarian except for salad and fries. Where Sunset had finally tasted the ocean after years of dining on nothing that didn't grow from the earth. Where they had shared birthday dinners and anniversary dinners and slices of cheesecake neither could afford.

Beside the town were old trails that took them above and below, towards the sea and sky, both paths interwoven with conifers taller than most trees could ever hope to be. It was along one of those paths, many years prior, that they had found a place like no other. Beneath a wide crescent-shaped cliffside was a spacious cove, clear and clean and beautiful. The tiny beach's sands were soft and white as snow, with a vibrant row of shrubs and ferns lining the cliffside behind them. Above it all, standing atop the cliff opposite the trail that brought them there, an old decommissioned lighthouse stood its solitary vigil, its red spiraling paint still vibrant after so many decades.

It was their place, a place of calm and quiet where Wallflower could close her eyes and listen to the waves, to the call of the gulls, to the ancient heartbeat of a place where time stood still. Where Sunset could hold her hand—could hold her—until everything felt right, just as it should, in that place where wildness remained.

That was the place Sunset was talking about. That was the place Sunset asked Wallflower, as she held her hand in their little cabin, if she wanted to go after their excursion into town.

Wallflower said yes, knowing the ring would follow them. Knowing that their special cove would be where Sunset's future happiness was sentenced to death.

The ring had won. She couldn't fight it any longer.


Even now, it was all too easy to pretend.

Walking hand-in-hand with Sunset along the promenade in that little coastal town they loved, Wallflower found it easy to paint a smile. The rhythm of the sea as it churned in steady waves against the rocks below them, coupled with the distant call of seagulls and the bustle of other visitors along the rows of shops and shore, drowned out the dread drumming in her ears at times. The skies were clear, the sun radiant even with the light chill. It was hard to remember to shiver.

As always, Sunset looked beautiful—was beautiful, today. She wore a light-blue blouse paired with her usual leather jacket, along with a newer pair of jeans and her usual boots. The jacket was a last-minute addition as they left the cabin to head into town. Sunset must have sensed that the weather was going to change.

Maybe.

Looking up at Sunset's vibrant smile and sparkling blue eyes, Wallflower tried not to think about what else might have prompted her to bring the jacket. They—and it—were here already. Might as well try and enjoy whatever moments she could before disaster struck.

Besides, Sunset was looking at her with a quizzical expression on her face. Better try and stay as present as possible.

"Did you hear what I just said?" Sunset asked, before letting out a giggle.

"Uh, no." Wallflower feigned a laugh in turn. "Sorry, what was that?"

"I said, I can't believe you haven't worn that dress before!" Sunset gestured to the flowy soft-pink sundress Wallflower had changed into at the cabin. "It looks really good on you," she added with a grin that seemed equal parts sincere and suggestive.

Wallflower did a small half-twirl in response. A genuine giggle escaped her as she did so, watching the dress spin. 

Never before had she worn such gorgeous, form-fitting clothes, much less something like a sundress, until she'd met Sunset. A combination of a strict, overbearing mother who would shame her daughter for showing any skin at all, coupled with hating the girl she saw in the mirror, had her hiding in baggy hoodies and oversized sweaters as long as she could remember. The self-destructive habit she had developed in her childhood years only cemented that style. It was only because of Sunset—and Rarity, to a lesser degree—that Wallflower had finally found the confidence as an adult to try wearing things like this.

As Wallflower looked back up at Sunset, those memories and recollections rushing through her mind, she couldn't help but smile a bit. "It's beautiful. Thank you again for buying it last year."

"Well," Sunset replied, squeezing her hand, "thank you for wearing it to dinner."

Although Wallflower was certain of exactly why Sunset had asked her to wear something like this on today of all days, a part of her couldn't help but probe anyway. "Not that I mind, but why did you ask me to wear it today?" Wallflower asked, doing her best to conceal the nervousness in her voice. "Fish and chips don't exactly scream 'dress-up'."

A grin curled across Sunset's lips. "Let's just say I've… been wanting you to wear it for a while."

The confirmation made Wallflower's heart sink like a stone. Merely mumbling an affirmative in response, she turned away from Sunset to watch the waves. While mesmerizing, the motion of the tides could do little to slow the approach of something just as monumental.

Then, as Sunset leaned against Wallflower, resting her head on her girlfriend's shoulder, Wallflower felt something inside the jacket's pocket bump against her hip. Something square.

The sea drew back, more waves coming ashore as the tide beckoned. A chorus of windchimes played with every gust of wind behind them—a gift display outside one of the shops here. Wallflower could hear her own heart beating faster than the breeze. She braced her fingers against the promenade and stared down into the surf.

"You okay?"

After flinching at Sunset's question, Wallflower mentally clambered back to reality. Without thinking, she answered. "Just nervous." She loosened her grip on the promenade and forced herself to meet Sunset's gaze. "Um, you?"

The concern on Sunset's face melted into a soft smile. Her arms found their way around Wallflower's waist as she said, "I guess we both are."

Wallflower heard, rather than felt, herself laugh. As it had throughout their journey here, her own voice and body now seemed far away. She watched through the eyes of a stranger as Sunset tugged on her hand and led them further down the promenade.

Helpless in the face of fate, Wallflower followed after her.

The skies were beginning to darken now, clouds gathering as the sun began to drag itself down towards the horizon. The sleepy seaside village knew of what was to come, stores flipping their "Open" signs to "Closed" and various visitors making their way back to their cars. The tide was eternal, but even it, too, was slowing, as the apex of high tide loomed past. 

Everything was changing, and fast. Wallflower could feel it down to her soul.

"So I was thinking…" Sunset looked over at her shoulder at Wallflower, who was but a few steps behind her. "Maybe we could go for that walk I mentioned before it gets dark, instead of heading back to the cabin?"

Confident of the answer—and of what was to come—Wallflower played dumb in some last-ditch, half-baked attempt to fight the inevitable. "Sorry, where do you want to go again?"

"How about—"

The place Sunset and Wallflower had found on their first visit here, so many years ago. The serene place that felt like it belonged to them. The place with all the things that they loved about this part of the world. 

The place where it would all come crashing down.

The little cove.

"—The little cove?"

As the waves roared and the wind beckoned, Wallflower nodded, and let Sunset lead her away.


By the time they'd reached the end of the seaside trail that led to their special place, the sun was hanging low in the sky, painting the horizon gold with wide swaths of evening light. A few thin, wispy clouds lingered out over the ocean, but when Wallflower looked at the sky further inland, all she saw were thick, heavy clouds that cast the cliffs above the cove in shade.

As Sunset led her down onto the beach, the sounds of the forest trail behind them vanished beneath the steady, gentle thrumming of waves against the shore. The wind whispered softly in Wallflower's ears, coaxing her to follow her girlfriend across the sands to their mutual doom.

There was nothing she could do about it now. Wallflower had been presented with so many opportunities to save Sunset from this moment, so many chances to save the woman she loved from the worst fate Wallflower could imagine, yet she had squandered each and every one of them. All of those failures led her here.

It was more than that, even. Every choice, every action, every thought she'd had through her entire life… Had any of them been different, maybe she wouldn't be here. Maybe she wouldn't be holding Sunset's hand, following her to the precipice of annihilation, waiting for her to pull out that ring and ask Wallflower to ensure Sunset's future would be one of regret and exhaustion and misery.

Wallflower's entire life had led her to this moment, all so she could ruin Sunset's.

"I remember the first time we came here," Sunset spoke softly as she looked out over the ocean, still holding Wallflower's hand. "I'd never seen you so… so calm before. And I get why—everything is so simple here. Like when we're here, the rest of the world just stops existing for a while."

Sunset turned to her, her smile as bright and warm as the glowing sun over the horizon. "I feel that way every time I look at you, too," she said. "Whenever I'm with you—at home, in the car, anywhere—all the things that I worry about feel so much farther away, like they can't hurt me when you're around."

Wallflower's heart, long since turned to stone, still managed to crack at those words. Whatever salve Wallflower was to Sunset's anxiety would turn to poison once Wallflower inevitably became the source of that anxiety. The thought made her arms itch angrily.

Rather than look at them, Wallflower turned to watch the waves, nodding silently as Sunset continued.

"But of course I feel that way," Sunset said as she put her arm around Wallflower's waist. "You're my whole world, Wally. You're everything to me."

"I know," Wallflower said, the faint sound of her voice almost lost to the wind. "You're my everything too."

She was. Sunset was her everything—her heart and soul, her other half, the one who made all the pain and misery and trauma of her youth feel like they'd been worth suffering through. It was worth it to survive, to keep going, to say no to the voice in her head that urged her to curl up and die, because with Sunset, Wallflower could actually have a life worth living.

How cruel a fate, then, that with Wallflower, Sunset's life would end up devoid of anything resembling joy.

As the two of them stared at the sea and the sky, Sunset pulled Wallflower into a closer embrace. The evening air was chilly compared to the warmth of Sunset's body pressed against hers, but any comfort such a feeling could have offered was beaten down and choked to death by the tiny pressing of something in Sunset's jacket pocket against Wallflower's side. Like a loaded gun, it compelled her to remain silent and still.

"I love you, Wally," Sunset whispered in her ear. Even in such soft tones, her voice was unmistakably lined with equal parts excitement and nervousness. For a moment, Wallflower thought she even heard Sunset laugh a bit as she said, "I love you more than I could ever put into words."

"I love you too, I… I just want you to be happy." The words passed through Wallflower's lips without her even thinking. As they did, something caught in the back of her throat, her eyes stinging as she deeply inhaled the cool evening air. "That's all I want. All I could ever want."

"I know, hon," Sunset said. She partly pulled away from the embrace, her hands still on Wallflower's waist as she stared at her with those deep blue eyes, brighter than the sky and fuller than the ocean. "I want you to be happy too. Seeing you happy is…" A soft laugh left Sunset again as tears of joy sparkled in the corners of her eyes. "It's my favorite thing in the world, Wally. I want to spend the rest of my life making you smile."

Wallflower couldn't speak. She couldn't even breathe. If she did, she might cry, and then she'd ruin the moment. She couldn't let herself do that—she couldn't take this away from Sunset, even though this would all eventually lead to ruin. All she could manage was a nod, which prompted Sunset to continue.

"Could you do me a favor, baby?" Sunset spoke with sudden confidence as an easy smirk settled on her face. "Can you close your eyes?"

Wallflower did as she was told, relishing these last few seconds of refuge. With her eyes shut tight, everything vanished except the sound of the sea and the whispers of the wind. She held her breath still, fighting as hard as she could to keep down the rising, surging tension in her chest.

"Wally?"

Wallflower didn't move, save for a few tears that squeezed their way out from beneath her closed eyes.

Quiet yet firm, Sunset's voice pierced the silence.

"Open your eyes."

Wallflower opened her eyes.

The first thing she saw was the setting sun itself, barely touching the horizon and bathing the sky in deep golden tones. Its reflection ran across the water in a sparkling line, leading directly to the girl kneeling on the beach before her.

Sunset Shimmer, down on one knee, looked more radiant and beautiful and magical than Wallflower had ever seen her before. Tears glistened on her cheeks, all the way down to her broad, shaky smile. Her arms were held out towards Wallflower, and in her grasp was a tiny box—the same tiny box Wallflower had found so many weeks ago. In one smooth motion, Sunset pulled back the box's lid, and revealed the object that would be the source of her undoing.

The ring was even more flawless than Wallflower remembered. Its band was intricately woven from two strips of white gold, crossing over each other like vines all the way up to the gemstone, which shone pale orange in the evening light. It glimmered with the promise of a future where Wallflower would never again have to fear being alone—a future where Sunset would be cursed with the eternal burden of having Wallflower as her wife.

"I love you, Wallflower. I-I… I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I want—" Sunset's voice broke as her smile widened—"I want everyone to know that I'm yours forever."

Forever.

The infinitely glittering reflections within the ring's facets stretched out into eternity. Wallflower stood at the precipice, frozen in the face of the future.

A thousand images flashed through her mind all at once—her mother's face contorted with rage; Sunset's perfect smile and outstretched hand; the corner of the parking deck stairwell she slept in; the paintings on the wall of her inpatient room at Skyland; the look on Sunset's face when she first told Wallflower that she loved her; the box of razors she'd hidden from Sunset after she first moved in; the look of pride on Sunset's face when Wallflower threw the box away; the many home-cooked meals Sunset prepared for her to help build her strength after a lifetime of being underfed; the way the moonlight danced in Sunset's eyes after they made love for the first time; years of growth and change and love and trust and joy and tears and all the sweet, quiet, special moments that made Wallflower happy to be alive.

Then she saw her daughter's face. Through the reflected facets of the ring, her baby girl smiled at her, and all at once the past and future shattered into a trillion pieces, sending Wallflower crashing back into the present just in time to hear Sunset say the words.

"Wallflower Blush, will you marry me?"

Time stood still. The only thing Wallflower could think of was to do the one thing she'd ever been good at in her entire life.

Without so much as a word, Wallflower turned and ran.