Twilight leant in and captured Luna’s lips in her own. The taste was sweet, almost surprisingly so for someone like the princess. Many would probably imagine her to be an uptight, austere sort of mare. Twilight knew differently, however.
She tasted of strawberry lip gloss, smelled of mint chocolate. Classy, timeless sensations mixed with impudent notes so unbecoming of a princess. But Twilight got to know the princess in a way that no one else could. Twilight got to kiss her and taste the nape of her neck and smell her hair.
Twilight got to…
Twilight was…
Twilight stopped reciprocating the kiss.
Twilight wouldn’t need to take long.
Twilight just had to make sure.
“Luna… wait, wait,” Twilight said, gently placing a hoof on her lover’s chest and pushing her away slightly. The princess frowned, looking concerned, but simultaneously not best pleased with the interruption.
“I’m sorry I just… I have to ask like… is this okay? Do you like this?”
“Twight,” the princess began, gaze softening, “I already told you this, if I had an issue I’d tell you, okay?”
“Alright, I just…” Twilight said trailing off for a moment as she struggled to gather her scattered thoughts, “I just worry you’re just saying that, you know?”
“Twilight, you need to listen to me, alright?” Luna began, firmly but not unkindly, “I’m telling you everything’s fine, remember what we talked about? About getting out of your own head a bit?”
“Yeah, yeah I know” Twilight replied, and leant in again to kiss Luna.
It felt beautiful, life-affirming and sensual and intoxicating all at the same time. Twilight pushed forward and Luna gasped, before pushing forward in turn. Hooves were tangled in hair and dragged across flanks and came to rest on cutie marks, cupping curves and tracing lines and the whole time…
Something just felt…
It was the bed.
Twilight broke the kiss and looked down at the mattress. And in her chest it felt like something was clawing her up because all she wanted to do was stop all this and get back to rolling around with a beautiful mare.
Who wouldn’t? Who wouldn’t want that?
Twilight wanted that.
But who could focus on such things while this bed was so obviously not level?
“When was the last time you had your bed looked at?” Twilight asked without looking up.
“What do you mean?” Luna replied, audibly confused, “I don’t think I’ve ever had my bed ‘looked at’, Twilight. Is that something ponies do these days?”
“There’s something wrong,” Twilight replied, climbing off the mattress and pushing her snout underneath the bed.
"Twilight, there's nothing wrong with the bed," Luna sighed, before her voice took on a conspicuously gentle tone, "Is everything alright? If you're stressed out we don't have to-"
"I'm fine," Twilight insisted, because it was true. She was fine, she was enjoying being with Luna, and she wanted more than anything to just be able to climb back into her lover’s hooves and lay there, without a care in the world.
But it was this bed.
There was something wrong, she could feel it.
She lit her horn, giving her some illumination to see the frame. It looked normal, so the issue must have been very slight.
So Twilight muttered an incantation under her breath, and felt her magic begin to scan the furniture. All she had to do was find what was making the bed feel so crooked, and then she could get back to normal.
Everything would be fine when she found out what was making the bed crooked.
The mattress shifted above her as Luna climbed down too.
"I'm going to get you a drink of water," she announced, and Twilight felt her insides churn at the sadness and worry in Luna’s voice.
Who could blame her, having to deal with having a bed that was so crooked and warped.
It must have been torture.
The spell returned its results, and Twilight frowned. It was telling her the bed was normal. A little old, granted. Maybe with a few areas that were getting a bit strained.
But still, the spell was telling her it was perfectly flat. Perfectly level.
That was not right.
Twilight stepped back, took a steadying breath that came out far too shaky, and cast the spell again.
Then she cast the spell again.
There was something wrong with it.
Twilight knew there was something wrong and she didn’t think it was abnormal to get frustrated when everything insisted on pretending there wasn’t.
"Twilight-" Luna called from the adjoining room, only for Twilight to cut her off.
"Just a minute."
There was something wrong with this bed, and if there was something wrong, she had to work out what.
It couldn't just be left. What was the alternative? Leaving Luna with a crooked bed? Sleeping every night on decaying foundations until it broke underneath her? What if the frame split at the right angle to form a spear of rotted wood which would puncture the princess’ throat, leaving her choking to death on her own blood.
No one would think about something like that, but Twilight did. Twilight had to specifically because no one else ever did.
She wondered what it was like to live like that? It was probably like living with a perfectly level bed.
Neither her, nor Luna, apparently had that luxury.
Twilight lit her horn and flipped the entire thing over, she needed to get a better look at whatever was causing this issue.
Twilight looked over the legs of the bed.
Twilight frantically measured them and then measured again when her measurements told her they were all the same length.
Twilight felt like her brain was full of hornets and her chest was bubbling with fuming sulfuric acid.
Twilight wanted to get back into bed with Luna.
Twilight just wanted a break.
Twilight didn't deserve a break.
Twilight measured the bed, and then she shook it a little when the measurements were all the same.
And then she picked it up with her magic and put it back down again.
No wonder Luna was shuffling around, audibly nervous in the other room. She had a tilted bed, practically sleeping stood up all night every night for the way it bent in such unnatural ways. And the poor thing couldn’t even see it.
Can you imagine living like that? Twilight imagined little else when she was alone. It seemed alien. It seemed like it was scarcely approximate to living, not in her experience. It seemed like something out of a children’s book, a creation myth, a fable, less something written and more something passed over campfires and changed with every recounting.
It seemed like fucking paradise.
But luckily for Luna, Twilight could see it all, and she would see it no matter how slight, or how minor, no matter how much she wanted to never see it again.
Twilight picked the bed up with her magic again, and then put it down.
And then Twilight picked it up once more, before putting it down again.
And then she picked it up and slammed it back down until the wood shook and groaned and cracked and splintered and she scratched at the wound in her mind until it festered.
She hit it on the floor again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again.
Maybe if she kept doing this her spell would be able to finally tell that the fucking thing wasn’t level.
Twilight only stopped when she felt dark, blue wings wrap around her.
"It's alright… it's okay," Luna soothed, stroking Twilight's back with a hoof.
"I just want it to stop, just for a bit," Twilight muttered into her lover's chest.
"I know, sweetheart," Luna replied. Twilight dearly wished she could say something that would fix all this. That could wrap everything in a neat bow.
But it didn't work like that.
Instead, she pulled away, in hopes to find some comfort in the smile she knew Luna would give her.
And when their eyes met, Twilight was right.
Luna's expression was one of pure love and concern, something warm to get lost in.
And she was smiling.
But Twilight's brain still itched.
Because Luna's smile looked crooked.