"It's the Summer Sun Celebration, you know."
There came the quiet chink of glass. The stallion smiled as he glanced over the assembly of flowers he'd placed in the vase, with another flowerpot waiting beside it. He set that one down on the mantle and looked back over the shoulder.
"Yes, luv, I know," he huffed. "It's right there on the calendar. But I can't help it—it's my favorite holiday." He paused, and a smile crossed his face. "Well, next to Nightmare Night, of couse."
He turned to the side and picked up a small piece of fabric, holding it delicately between his teeth. With a flick of his neck, the tablecloth flew out over the table. He made sure to smooth out any of the wrinkles on its surface. "There we go," he said, stepping back to admire his handiwork. It was a good, clean cloth, red and white with a checkered pattern.
"Remember when we picked this old thing up in the market?" He stifled a chuckle, shaking his head. "I told you not to waste a bit on it, but you wouldn't have it. You shelled out every one of your twenty bits for the old thing, and you never regretted it."
He frowned; the air felt too stale. Stuffy, even.
"Well, that won't do." He trotted over and reached up with his hooves to swing open the windows and pull back their shades. Instantly, light streamed in, and a warm, airy breeze blew into the room.
He trotted toward the window and took a deep breath of the summer air. "Much better." The sunlight fell on his coat, and he closed his eyes, just enjoying its warmth. "How's that, luv?"
A thick, humid scent passed beneath his nose, and his eyes widened. "That'll be the tea. No, no—I got it."
He hurried over to the stove, where a pink teakettle was whistling over a bright red flame. He popped open the cap and hissed softly as the hot metal burned his hoof. Resisting the urge to pout, he sucked on his hoof to make the pain go away. "Yes, yes. Very funny, luv. I know."
There were two cups by the stove, each already with a teabag inside. "All the store had was mint. I hope that's fine by you."
Steam hissed out of the cups as he poured, and a rich, green color diffused into the water. He took a sniff and smiled. "That's strong stuff, right there. Honey, or sugar?"
Without waiting for a reply, he pushed over a bowl of sugarcubes. "No, luv—don't bother answering. I know already. Two sugars, a spot of cream, and mix."
He hummed to himself as he stirred, the warm breeze drifting across the room. "You like the daffodils? Got them from the Apples down in the market. Seemed more than happy to sell me some extras."
He sat down at the table, the saucers clinking on the aged wood. "There we go."
The two teacups sat patiently on the table as he took a seat. His hooves shook slightly, but he wasn't bothered. Gingerly, he fidgeted on the seat until he was comfortable and then looked across the table.
A small object sat at the other end, right beside the teacup. With a sigh, he reached over and took it in his hooves, staring down at it as the smell of mint wafted across his nostrils.
"I wonder if we'll see Celestia this year," he murmured, running a hoof down the side of the picture frame. "I heard she's coming back to Ponyville for the Celebration. After all these years." Won't that be grand?"
His eyes flickered over the frame again. A pair of foals, one a pale, purple unicorn, the other a white-and-brown-speckled earth pony, beamed back at him, rolling around in the dirt. He chuckled; both were wearing bright red bandanas, with wooden swords held in their mouths. Their smiles spread from ear to ear, frozen in the locked time of a photograph.
"Won't that be grand," he echoed.
He set the frame back on the table.