“Well, I’m back. Thanks much for ditching me without pants. Are you even here, or am I talking to myself again?”
I wandered back into our apartment, honestly wondering if she would be there. Admitting that I was nervous was definitely something that she didn’t really want to hear at this point only a day or two after our engagement, understandably so. “You’re just talking to yourself, but I am here. I’m not talking to you for a little bit.”
“You just did.”
“Just to tell you that.”
“And again.”
“Stop it.”
“You did it again.”
“Don’t be juvenile.”
“Who’s juvenile? You’re the one chatting through the silent treatment.”
A moan echoed out of the small living room, but she didn’t say anything else. I chuckled silently, but didn’t push it. I was likely already six feet under, and digging didn’t help me out. I opened the fridge and grabbed a couple of Mountain Dews. I cracked one as I moved to the next room and stood next to the couch where she sat. I set both down on the table next to the couch and she smiled a little bit. Her eyes were reddened, but she hadn’t been crying. She was just upset. I took a sip as she talked.
“You know, it’s interesting how you hold your can.” She picked hers up off the table and opened it while she looked at my hand. “You don’t really hold it. When you put your hand down, you just grip it at the top by the tips of your fingers, like you only want to invite it to stay with you.”
She curled her legs up and made room for me to sit. I smiled just a bit. “You certainly are just a poet, aren’t you? And talented. Making me hear words even when you aren’t talking to me.”
She ignored that. “I mean it. It seems like it’s kind of a unique way of holding it.”
I looked at the can in my hand. “I guess. I picked it up from one of my old high school teachers. I swear I never saw the man without a Dew in his hand or right next to him, even at the chalkboard. He balanced it on the lip where the chalk goes and intentionally kept the board clean above it. Whenever we talked in the hall he would hold it like that. Great guy. But why the interest in my drinking posture?”
She rested her head on her hoof and smiled thoughtfully at me. “I don’t know. I’m just thinking out loud. I just don’t know what to think about this afternoon.”
I sighed and put the drink down on the table. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to think anything of that. It was just jitters and insecurity. You said yourself that you were a bit nervous.”
She tilted her head and looked at me. “Why would you think that I would want someone more than you?”
I scoffed. “Frankly, why wouldn’t you? I’m a goof off, I have a funny job title, when we first met I died two days later because I couldn’t cut it. Then only survived later because I got lucky. I can only afford a crappy apartment for us, when I’m not working I’m playing videogames or doing stupid things with my friends. I don’t-“
“Ok, just stop, dear.” She seemed to be a little bit upset. “You do this a lot, you know. Despite all your big talk and… flamboyant way of acting, you’re really very self depreciating. It can become tiresome.”
I threw my hands up in slight aggravation. “Well, why not?! I’m a loser! Just admit it! You deserve a prince! Someone who can hand you all worlds on a platter! I can give you… this.” I motioned at the pale white walls and battered old furniture. “This couch is the nicest thing I own, and I only got that through a lucky bargain from someone I’m not sure knew what they had.”
Her gaze turned into a pleading one. “But what if I don’t want all worlds handed to me? What if I want to live in a less than fabulous home in a place I don’t receive any acclaim as a princess? I want to be happy, and with someone who makes me happy, which is you. Dress and all,” she added with a slight sly smile.
I looked down at myself and realized I was still wearing the dress from Rarity. “Oh yeah. I guess I should change.”
She leaned over ran her hooves over my exposed legs. She winked and smiled a bit more. “You don’t mind if I help you do that, do you?”
Laying back, I began to run my hands over her coat. “I screw up and say the wrong thing a half dozen times in a row and it gets me laid? I’ll have to remember that.”
“It’s a limited time offer.”
“How long is this offer? I can say a lot of stupid things really quick. Maybe I can build up some store credit.”
…
“Arright, I can’t feel my legs anymore.”
Ok, I know what you’re thinking, but she isn’t that good. I mean, fantastic, yes, but not to the point that I can’t feel the lower half of my body. Apparently, I made a batch of chili dogs that was just a bit too strong. And I may have been exaggerating a little bit. It was really just my stomach and colon. She sat across from me in her human form wearing a nice blue nightie-type garment.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have those chili dogs after every time.” She’s a woman. Of course she wouldn’t understand.
“Would you rather I smoked? That’s the stereotypical afterwards relaxant.”
“Frankly, it’s more understandable how people survive smoking.”
“I bet you don’t even know what I put in these.”
I lost that bet. “Two pieces of white bread, five hot dogs, jalapeno chili, grated cheddar cheese, heated liquid nacho cheese, bacon bits, hot wings sauce, taco sauce, onions, and you eat it all with a liter of Mountain Dew.”
I nodded, impressed. “Wanna bite?” I asked around a mouthful, holding up a forkful. She gaged. I shrugged and stuffed the bite into my mouth.
“Ugh! You know, that poor pig probably suffered before he died.”
“Not if it was killed right. My family raised a pig a couple years in a row, remember? Grisly death, yes. Suffering, no. Trust me.” She rolled her eyes as I scraped the last bite off the plate. “What I don’t understand is why you sit and watch me eat it every time.”
“It’s grown into a bit of a habit too, I guess,” she said with a pained smile. I smiled back, but the discomfort in mine was genuine. “You shouldn’t have taken that last bite, huh?” She looked smug.
I shrugged and stood up. “Kind of. We have any more honey barbeque Fritos?”
She scoffed again. “We do still need to talk more.”
“We are talking. Ooh, beef jerky.”
“I mean really talk. About this afternoon.”
“That isn’t something people put into words in polite conversation.”
“I meant at the boutique.”
I sat back down with the jerky, chips and other half of the two liter of Dew. “Oh, yeah, that too. Well, I thought we kind of wrapped it up nicely.”
“We didn’t resolve anything. I got distracted by the dress. That was my fault. But we do need to discuss this.” She picked a chip out of the bag and popped it into her mouth.
“I guess, but really it’s not something talking is going to fix for me. I’m insecure. I’ll have to deal with that.”
“But you don’t have to deal with it alone. You have me.”
“I also have pretty severe indigestion, but that has no bearing on this. No offense, I love you, but I am specifically this insecure because of you.”
“How so?”
I began to pour another glass of soda, since she had just drank my last one. As I set it back down she picked it up and began to drink that one too. “Well, like I said. Frankly, you deserve nothing less than the best of perfection. And yet your sitting across from me nearly naked. I just wonder why.”
She stopped drinking, but didn’t put the glass down. She was smarter than me. I would have picked it right back up like she had. Clever vixen. “Well, you happen to be funny, charming, intelligent, brave, honest, and you were single when I met you. All positive things.”
I winced. “Weeeeeell, define single.”
Her stare shot through me and into my soul. “I wouldn’t think I would have to.”
I started to reach for another chip, but the bag flew back to its spot on the counter in a violent burst of magic. “Remember the first night you fell into my dorm room and that girl came by to study?”
She squinted a bit as she remembered. “Yes, I remember. You made such an ass of yourself I had assumed you two weren’t very well acquainted. You didn’t have much personal connection from where I sat.”
“That’s because we had only been out, like, twice. We met in class.”
Her eyes radiated rage. “You were dating someone when we met? You told me you weren’t.”
“Weeeeeell, I didn’t really tell you. You assumed when I asked you out after I wasn’t dead anymore. Or when I kissed you before letting the Nightmare bits to attach to my soul. Or one of those other kinds of situations. And in my defense, I didn’t see her again after we met.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Except to break up with her, right.”
I barely managed to not cringe. “Uuuh, well…”
“If you tell me to define ‘break up’, I will kill you.” I stared at her blankly. “You seriously didn’t even break up with her?!” she cried, rocking suddenly back in her chair and throwing her hands to her face. “That’s probably why you feel so nervous about all of this! You feel bad about never breaking it off with her!”
I smiled sheepishly. “Maybe, maybe not.” *angry Luna glare* “With preference towards maybe.”
“Call her.”
I sighed and pulled out my phone. “All right, but again, I haven’t talked to her in a good long while. She may have a different number.”
I dialed. *Beep-boop-beep-beep-beep-boop-boop* Two rings. “Hello?”
Shit. “Uh, hey Ashley. It’s me, Adam. “
Luna tells me even she heard this part. “You jackass! What the fuck are you doing calling me after over a year?!?”
“Hey, hey, I called to apologize! I wanted to make nice! I feel bad for not calling or talking to you one more time, but in my defense I’m a guy and I didn’t think that two dates reall meat that much!”
“Two dates! Try SIX!!”
I clapped a hand over the phone. “Ooh, I might be a really terrible person.”
…
The next day at noon Luna and I met. I had tried something daring and told the truth, and thus I told her I was engaged. I suppose I should have perhaps stretched the truth a little bit. Long story short, Luna wanted to go. She and Ashley wanted to meet each other. I wanted to be struck by lightning and killed instantly. Guess who didn’t get what they wanted?
We met at a small bar near the university. Luna came as a human, which was 100% for the best. Had she been a pony, I doubt I would have survived. As she was, when we met up with Ashley, she glared at Luna and spat on my shoe. Or, tried at least. When she didn’t notice I stopped it in midair magically. I kept my bone arm covered by a long hoodie and stuffed the hand in my pocket. At this time, we had kept everything about Equestria under wraps. Very few people knew about my arm, my wings, or Luna’s being a pony in disguise. We walked everywhere we needed to go if we could, and if we couldn’t walk we used the bus like everyone else. One big thing that had been attached to my name was when I first went to Equestria, it turned out that I had become an alleged kidnapping victim. Once I got back I made up something about having taking a hiking trip halfway through the semester. People bought it since I kept my arm hidden.
She was there before we were. She was already sitting at a table in the back, slowly sipping a coffee. I think she saw us as we came in, but she didn’t move. Luna and I each bought a water and sat with her. She was silent, which was bad. After her outbursts on the phone, she shouldn’t have been quiet at all. But she was. She just sat and sipped her coffee. Every now and then her eyes would dart between Luna and I, but then would fall back down to her cup. Finally, she spoke.
“This the biddy you ran off with?”
Luna and I both looked at each other, concerned. Biddy? Luna mouthed silently. I just shrugged and cleared my throat. “Well, I personally use another nickname, but I think her real name would be good for all of us to use right now.”
“Luna.” She put her hand out to Ashley, but the fuming blonde didn’t move.
“I got over it, you know. You not calling.” Every word was growled over her coffee. “And then you called again. You son of a bitch.”
I put my hands up, keeping the right tucked in the sleeve. “Hey, number one, my mother is a very nice lady. Two, I am totally not worth getting this worked up over. I was kind of hoping we could be friends.”
“Friends?!?” she screeched, standing. And I mean screeched. Luna and I met a half dozen deaf dogs on the way home. What really got me was the gun she pulled out. We, along with every other patron in the place, shout out of our seats with our hands up. “We can all be FRIENDS?!? You broke my heart!! Yours should be DESTROYED!!”
Obviously, that didn’t sound good. I took a single step to my right, moving between Luna and the madwoman with the revolver. “Hey, hey, hey. Come on now, I don’t think we need that. Shooting Luna isn’t going to solve anything.”
“Why do you assume it would be me?” she whispered from behind me.
“Well, if put into a romantic context, a broken heart compounded on would be not the emotional loss of a friend or companion, but the physical loss of a lover.”
“Ah. Fair enough. Carry on.”
“SHUT UP!” She fired a single shot into the roof. Luckily it was a single floor establishment.
I stayed very still, except a single calm nod. “Ok, we’ll stop talking. You talk. Why this? Isn’t just yelling easier?”
Her eyes smoldered in her head as she stared me down. “Yelling is too good for you. She is too good for you. I’m too good for you. Life is too good for you.”
I nodded a little bit. “Well, you’re kind of right. You are too good for me, and Luna is by far too good for me. But I’ve been dead, and it’s not bad. Nice and quiet. By your logic that would be too good for me too.”
She seemed confused. “What are you talking about? You couldn’t have been dead before. You would be… well, dead!” She shook the gun the second time she said dead.
“Well, it’s too long a story to tell you while you’re pointing that at me. Long story short I was in a coma for a while, back during the time I went missing, and there was once or twice that my heart stopped beating. Technically, dead. And it wasn’t bad. Kind of nice, though certainly not something I would rush into. Too lonely.”
Either this would work, or I was toast. There’s no middle ground here. She was a psychology prodigy, specializing in pathological lying. My best chance was she was too emotional to notice and call me on it. “Why were you in a coma?”
“Car crash.”
“Why didn’t it appear when you were reported missing?”
“Technical error. The police stations computer programs missed my hospital file.”
She squinted at me, trying to see through the tears and runny makeup. I shifted nervously as she began to lower the gun, and my sleeve slid down to reveal my skeletal right arm. The entire bar gasped and the gun shot right back up to its position, pointed directly at my heart. “What the FUCK is that?!?”
I sighed. Luna whispered frantically behind me. “You’re losing this battle of wits, you know.”
I didn’t answer her. Instead I focused on the poor blonde. “It’s a prosthetic arm. A door crushed my arm halfway up the humorous bone. They were able to save the nerves and I lucked into an experimental procedure. I didn’t tell anyone about it for this reason. People freak. I personally think it’s pretty sweet, but I understand how it could scare you if you didn’t know.”
She didn’t quite believe me, I could tell. “Let me feel it,” she said quietly.
I silently held it out to her, making no quick movements. She ran a few fingers over it, keeping the gun pointed at me the whole time. She didn’t really seem to believe what she was feeling until she put her fingers in between the radial and ulnar bones. She gave a little gasp of disbelief, but didn’t move the gun. Not much, at least. It just trembled a little bit. “There,” I said quietly. “You see? I’m not lying. If you remember anything about me, it should be that I don’t lie. Period.” The gun shook a little bit more. “This isn’t the way to handle this. You were never a violent girl. You were always kind and compassionate. That’s why you wanted to go into psychology. To help people. Come on, Ashley. Give me the gun.”
She took a sudden step back, bringing the gun level with my head now. “Stay back!” she cried, though less forcefully than before. “I swear to God I’ll do it!”
I smiled sadly. “No you won’t. You don’t really want to. You just want this to be over, but don’t know how to go about it. Believe me, what you really want is to put the gun in my hand and walk away. Because if you were to shoot that off again, as sure as I’m standing here someone innocent would get hurt. And I don’t want that. Do you? If you do then by all means, fire away, but only if you can live knowing that you can live the rest of your life knowing that your revenge came at the expense of someone else.”
She sniffled pathetically and nodded a sad little nod. Slowly, the gun began to fall. Slowly, slowly. Finally it touched my hand, but I waited an extra second so that she could let go of it herself. As soon as I had the gun and she was unarmed, she passed out. Well, her and half the other people inside. I tucked the gun into my back pocket, making sure the safety was on, and sighed. Now that it was over, I could feel the adrenaline running through my system. I looked at my hands and tried to get them to stop shaking, but for the life of me I couldn’t. Luna, who had crouched more and more as I had talked, stood up straight and quickly spun me around to face her. She kissed me hard, and I felt her entire body tremble. I’d like to think it was me, but I could tell she was scared out of her feathers.
The kiss collapsed into a sobbing hug as the situation caught up to her. She fell into me and sobbed into my shoulder with her whole body. She was genuinely traumatized, and shewas clearly ready to stay that way for a while. I ran my bony fingers through her hair and quietly shushed her. She seemed to like that hand better. I think it’s because the bones remind her of just how far I was willing to go to make sure she was happy and safe. The feel of the bones seemed ot calm her, but she still sobbed heavily into my sweater. I pulled her as closely as I could as I heard the police sirens getting closer. I rubbed her back and kept her close. “It’s all ok now, Luna. It’s ok. I’ve got you. Don’t worry. You’re safe with me. You always will be.”