Chapter Five
All Things Go
Rarity propped her foreleg against the windowsill and watched the crowd waddle past. There were not as many passersby as usual. In fact, she could probably count them out and put names to their faces if she wished. If she were more awake, she would have done just that. So much potential gossip strolling on by, oblivious to her ever-watchful gaze. They were lucky she could barely keep her eyes open. Today, they were off the hook. Tomorrow? Well they had best keep their mistresses at home, lest Rarity let word of their cheating ways reach their spouse’s ears via a loaded comment over tea.
Or rather, that was how Rarity would have let news slip in the past. Now it would probably just be her own little secret. Maybe Rainbow would hear about it over dinner one evening, or she would casually mention it to Applejack if she was over. No doubt either of those charming brutes would make sure that the next time any unfaithful pony walked by the window, they would be alone—a black eye their only company.
But for now she forced herself to forget who was together, who was smiling and chortling away, leaning close to their partner. They were lucky they could not see her. A glimpse of her glare, and they might fall dead where they stood.
Rarity levitated her teacup to her lips. It was ice cold. She grabbed the kettle in her magic and began to top off her cup, never once taking her eyes off the pathway.
Two mares bounded down the road, a green unicorn with a most unruly mane and a yellow earth pony with a... slightly less unruly mane. At least she seemed to have attempted to turn it into something presentable, Rarity had to give her credit there. Rarity had seen them before in passing, amongst the crowds at the marketplace or at a booth on the other side of a restaurant, but their names escaped her.
I think I even talked to that yellow one once. Why did I not get her name?
The unicorn was definitely the peppy one of the two, seeming to skip more than step and constantly touching her partner—mane tussling, rump bumping, the works. If a sloppy make out session had broken out at that moment, Rarity would not have been surprised.
A part of her shivered at such lewd displays of affections, but an even bigger part envied them. Her gaze began to move away from the lovers, down and to the right, but she forced it back up. I know, she thought, emptying her cup in one swig. Believe me, I have not forgotten.
She closed her eyes and thought about what it would be like, walking down mainstreet with Rainbow Dash. They would walk close, flanks brushing against each other no doubt. Maybe Rainbow would drape a wing over her back. There would be joking and laughing and smiles, but, knowing Rainbow—and herself—there would also be a bit of bickering. For some reason, Rarity pictured herself covered in mud, yelling at a guffawing Rainbow Dash. It would all be breaking apart, but then...
The moon hung high in the sky, not even a sliver of cloud blocking its full form. Not that Rarity could tell. Her eyes were shut tight. Rainbow’s warm breath tickled the back of her neck. The tip of a feather stroked down her back, lower and lower. Rarity shivered, yet if anything she swore she was about to catch fire. Rainbow’s breaths were caressing her ears now. She whispered something, but it came out as a hot, garbled mess. Rarity giggled. Out of all the times to speak, why now? Rainbow repeated the same string of gibberish. This time, Rarity groaned. Was it really that hard to form words? She opened her eyes and...
The street stood barren. The galavanting couple had moved on down the road—their careless laughs still ringing in muffled bursts through the kitchen window—leaving Rarity to sit and sigh all by herself.
Her teacup was empty. For the rest of the morning it would stay that way. There were certain things tea could not warm. Certain fires were only lit by a flash of creativity.
It was time to make a dress.
* * *
Hours later, Rarity’s vision was filled with white. White paper, untouched by pen; white cutting table, devoid of scraps or fabric; white forehooves, not even the tiniest string of thread breaking their immaculateness. She was usually all for cleanliness, but not in her workshop. No, the workshop was for making dresses, and she had come to learn that there was no clean way to make a proper dress. A good dress would leave in its wake countless scraps, rolls of fabric tossed aside after a more dazzling kind had been discovered, and even a few broken clothespins from the inevitable frustration.
There was no mess. There was neither a finished product to take her breath away, nor some atrocity for her to scold and call “horrid” and toss aside for scrap. There were only a few crumpled up sheets of paper and a low groan droning through Rarity’s clenched teeth.
Making a dress: easier said than done. She had tried every day since she had gotten home, and every day inspiration had kicked her in the teeth and fled. Somedays, it was because of a headache or phantom pains. Others, it was all a matter of her psyche going off the rails. One day in particular stood out: she had zoned out only to come to holding one of her mannequins, sobbing all over a half-finished absolutely dreadful black gown. In a way, she was glad she had zoned out; she doubted she wanted to know what that road had been like.
Days like today were the worst, however. She was far from a wreck. No pains shot through her head, nor up through her hip. No phantoms either; she was quite aware what was missing. It was all a lack of inspiration, like trying to strike a soaked match. She wanted nothing more than to simply be able to sit down and create something.
A faint sound graced Rarity’s ears. She glanced down to see Opalescence nuzzling her fake leg, purring as attention seeking cats often do. “Oh, Opal,” Rarity whispered, reaching down and picking up the pampered feline in her forelegs, "how long have you been down there?”
Opalescence’s expression was that of a unicorn who had just been asked if they had a horn. Then again, her face was always set in that look. Not bothering to wait to see if Opalescence had gained the ability to speak and answer her question overnight, Rarity looked over at the clock on the other side of the room. Two hands up. Noon.
“Oh dear,” she gasped, Opalescence falling onto her lap as her hooves shot over her mouth. Not only had she forgotten about Opal’s seven o’clock breakfast and nine-thirty brunch, but her eleven-thirty lunch as well. How could she have been so thoughtless?
Well, let’s not dwell on past mistakes. A noon lunch is still lunch. Opalescence had already hopped down from her lap, and was occupied with cleaning herself off. Rarity stared at the blank sheet of paper sitting in front of her with absolute disgust. Nothing was coming to her up there, save for a growing mountain of paper balls. Maybe inspiration would strike her on the way to the kitchen. It seemed like a silly idea, that feeding her cat would somehow be the spark she needed, but like all artists, her muse was a fickle thing.
“Come, Opal,” she said, turning away from the annoyingly clean table with her nose pointed upward. The walk to the door was uneventful, much to Rarity’s relief. Opalescence followed close behind her without a single hiss, yowl, or surprise assault on one of the many baskets of yarn.
Once they were out of the room, Rarity allowed herself to sag, but only a little. To a normal pony, she would still look regal as ever. To her she might as well have been completely slouched, chin dragging the floor and all. She looked over her shoulder at Opalescence, and sighed.
“You poor dear, you must be absolutely famished.” Opalescence continued sauntering, chin held high as always. “I don’t blame you for being mad at me,” Rarity continued, “I shouldn’t be letting you go to waste like this.” Rarity’s eyes began to water, and Opalescence pranced on oblivious as ever. “Your bow’s loose. What kind of owner am I?” A single meow. “Yes, I know, I do need to do better.” The rest of the walk to the kitchen was a silent one, broken only by three distinct sets of steps.
Rarity was pleased to find that an entire cupboard filled to the doors with cat food was still waiting for her. She had forgotten to put ‘cat food’ on her grocery list, and she had no doubt that Rainbow Dash would not have thought to pick it up on her own. She was lucky she had saved up so many cans over time. Buying in bulk was a bit odd for a single cat, sure, but Rarity was the kind of pony to think ahead. There was no way of telling when some disaster could hit and leave all the grocery stores in Equestria without cat food.
Her horn lit up, and a sparkling silver can hovered out. “Tuna,” she said, smiling down at Opalescence, “your favorite.” If Opalescence was excited, she did not even hint at it. Rarity chose to ignore the feline’s lack of enthusiasm, and combined her extraction of the can opener from the silverware drawer with a drizzle of oohs and ahhs. Opalescence licked her paw and purred, not even glancing up at the attempted spectacle.
The sound of the can opener biting into the lid was matched only by the distinctive thump of hoof on wood. Rarity paused, standing as still as a statue. Another knock told her that she had not snapped; there really was somebody at the door. Blowing out a stream of hot air, she placed the can on the table and peeked out the closest window. If she twisted her neck at just the right angle, she could catch a glimpse of pink tail twitching in the breeze.
She sighed. It could be some door-to-door salespony, but it could just as easily be a friend of hers. Too many ponies had pink tails nowadays. For a second, she considered acting as though she was not home at all, but quickly swept the thought away. That would be nothing short of rude. She had a laundry list of things she simply could not tolerate, and rudeness sat high atop the list—bolded and underlined.
“Who is it?” she said, standing off to the side of the door, as if that were some sort of safety net.
“Rarity? It’s Cheerilee.” Of course. How could she have not noticed? The sun must have been playing tricks on her; she surely would have recognized that combination of light and dark pink if it hadn’t.
“Cheerilee? What... it’s only noon. Forgive me for being rude, but shouldn’t you be at the schoolhouse?”
A laugh rang through the door. “Oh, haha, it’s recess. I needed to get something from here, so I had Big Macintosh hold the fort while I get it.”
Rarity’s brow furrowed. “Big Macintosh?”
“Oh, he’s volunteered to do some landscaping around the building.”
“I see,” Rarity said, tapping a forehoof on the floor. “What do you need from me?”
“Sweetie Belle had a report due today, but when I came around to collect them she didn’t have one. Once she calmed down—poor dear’s seemed so upset lately—she told me she had finished it, but had left in a rush this morning and forgotten her saddlebag.”
“Ah, yes,” said Rarity, lips twisting downward. “She did.” She looked to the table, to the small bag still sitting on the same chair she had left it. “I assume that is why you are here?” she continued.
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Cheerilee said, a hearty giggle snaking through the words. If there had been a joke there, it sailed right over Rarity’s head.
“I see...” The words drifted off, a heavy pause following in their wake. The seconds flowed like hours, yet Rarity could not quite put a hoof on why. At first, she thought she was pondering something, but it soon hit her that she was just staring off into space. Buying time. Hiding. She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she looked at the door, then down at the leg in all its revoltingly plastic glory. Her eyes would have lingered there for several moments more if not for the loud cough on the other side of the door.
“Oh, terribly sorry,” Rarity stammered. “Let me get that for you.” She took a single step toward the kitchen before rolling her eyes and taking the bag in her magic. As it hovered over to her, she thanked her lucky stars that the bag had not been open or upside-down. Celestia knows what horrors could fall out of it and ruin her beautiful rug. “Here it is!” she chimed.
“Great.” The silence that followed was palpable. “Um, could you give it to me?”
“Huh?” All of a sudden, the very act of thinking seemed a most foreign one to Rarity. Open the door? “Uh, yes, of course! Heh heh, let me just...” Had there not been a carpet there to soften their blows, her hooves would have sounded like thunder, tapping away as the gears in her head whirred.
So many ways to go about this. So much that could go wrong.
It happened in a flash. “Watch your head,” Rarity called as she pushed the top half of the front door open. She levitated the bag through the opening, dropped it, and closed the door back before Cheerilee could even gasp.
No more words were said. A few seconds after the door closed, Cheerilee walked off. Rarity checked out the window. She was already across the bridge. It looked like she was about to glance back at the Boutique, but Rarity let the curtain fall back into place, and retreated before Cheerilee could fully turn.
The walk back to the kitchen was a slow and quiet one. Rarity grabbed the cat food can in a telekinesis spell, but quickly dropped it into a waiting forehoof. The magic just was not with her. She closed her eyes, concentrating so hard the veins in her neck started to stick out, but was only able to get the can opener working at a snail’s pace. Her head throbbed, her felt as though the sun had settled on its tip, and still she was losing the battle.
Needless to say, it was the worst possible time for the door to fly open.
“Oh for crying out loud, can’t somepony feed her cat around here?!” Rarity threw the can onto the table. Whatever poor soul was on the receiving end of her wrath muttered something—more like a squeak than an actual word—but she cut them off before they could continue. “And have you not heard of knocking? It’s common courtesy! Not to mention the sign clearly stating ‘Closed’ on the front window. Honestly, just who do you think you are?”
“Uh... me.”
“Huh?” She wheeled around. Standing just inside the door was Rainbow Dash, lively eyes, mischievous smirk and all. Of course it would be Rainbow; everybody else had the decency to knock first. If ever there came a day where Rainbow displayed some respect and actually asked permission to enter before barging in, Rarity would know the world was ending. Not today though.
“Sorry for being so rude, Rainbow Dash,” she said, lifting a forehoof and wiping a strand of mane out of her eyes. Her mane just was not curling like it used to, and she had to admit it was chewing at her nerves. She brushed the thought aside. The day’s anger quota had been met and surpassed. No use crying over loose strands. “It has not been the most pleasant of days.”
“Yeah, I can tell.” Rainbow took a step forward, but stopped almost immediately. She leaned against the doorframe, and pulled an apple out from behind her unbandaged wing, taking a large bite out of it. “Saw Cheerilee walk by on my way here lookin’ all kinds of confused. What’d ya do to her?” Bits of apple rained from Rainbow’s mouth. Rarity backed away, bumping into the table and doing her best to fall into a chair as gracefully as possible.
“For goodness’ sake, Rainbow, don’t speak with your mouth full,” she said, wiping her face. Luckily, she had dodged the onslaught of half-chewed fruit. Pleased that she had avoided such a disaster, Rarity was able to continue. “Sweetie Belle forgot her saddlebag when she left this morning, and Cheerilee was retrieving it for her.”
Rainbow cocked her head to the side. “Why didn’t Sweetie come back and get it?”
“Rainbow,” Rarity chuckled, taking the cat food can in her magic once more and twisting it this way and that. It was still not even half open. If her headache had anything to say in the matter, it would stay that way. She dropped the can back on the table and turned her attention back to Rainbow. “It is well-past noon. She’s in school. She can’t just gallivant away from the schoolyard midway through the day to get her bags.”
Rainbow groaned and buried her face in a hoof. “No, I meant, why didn’t she come back here? Kinda hard to get far before you realize you’ve forgotten your saddlebags.”
“Well,” Rarity mumbled, “she did leave in quite a hurry this morning.” All of a sudden, her hooves were the most interesting things in the world, and she could not stop playing with them. Bumping them against each other, rubbing them together, doing anything but looking at Rainbow.
“Why, did she get up late?”
“No, she was up before me, actually.” Rarity sighed. The street outside her kitchen window was dead. She crossed it off her list of potential distractions. There were no other options; she had to spit it out. “I did what you said I should do, and, um, tried to talk, and... let’s just say that did not go as planned.”
The sigh that poured from Rainbow’s lips was better fit for a parent finding out their foal had failed a test. “Well... at least you tried.”
“Did you expect me not to?”
“No, I did. I just, well I mean... ugh, never mind.” Rainbow finished off her apple in two bites, tossing the core into the nearest trash bin—clear on the other side of the room. It was a perfect shot: no rim, all bag. “Anyway,” she said, stepping into the kitchen, and sitting down in a chair next to Rarity, “I’ve got a proposition for you.”
“Go on.”
“This is going to sound crazy, but hear me out here.” Rainbow sat back. She blew at the air and drummed on her chair, but still no words came. “Alright, here goes,” she said after what felt like an eternity had passed. “I went around and talked to some friends to get this all set up, and, well, I’m taking you on a date. Tonight.”
Rarity’s eyes shrunk. “A d-d-d... a d-d-d-d...” Words were beyond her at that moment, as was thinking. Did she hear that correctly?
“Applejack’s gonna keep an eye on Sweetie Belle. I guess. Knowing her, she probably meant let Sweetie, Scoots and Apple Bloom have a sleepover and hope they don’t burn anything down.” Rainbow chuckled. “But yeah, got everything planned. Seven o’clock. I know, heh heh, never expected me to be the one to go for the stupid, cheesy dating junk, eh?”
If there had been actual gears in Rarity’s head, they would have melted away by now. It was a miracle she did not have smoke billowing from her ears. Rainbow Dash... date... tonight... date. She was going to go on a date with Rainbow. A date. Their first date.
It took her a good five seconds to realize that the sudden high-pitched squealing was her own. Finally, their first date. Oh, it had been so long since she had enjoyed a romantic night out. In fact, now that she thought about it, it had over a year since her last date. A year. And that had not been a good one. Not even remotely.
Rarity shuddered at the thought of that stallion’s polka-dotted sweater vest. He had seemed so knowledgeable of aesthetics when they had first met. How wrong she had been. To complete the icing on the disappointment cake, he had spent the whole dinner dropping entendres he probably thought were humorous and subtle.
Subtle as a skyscraper falling on your head, and about as funny.
She emerged to from her reverie to find her forelegs wrapped around Rainbow’s neck. She gave a small chortle as she let go of her ensnared lover, and sat back down in her chair, unable to keep her forehooves still.
A date. Visions of Rainbow, her face illuminated by candlelight, flickering flame reflecting off her soft and alluring eyes, the sound of a harp playing somewhere in the background. They would toast with glasses of the finest wine, and spend the evening lost in each other’s presence.
“So... you’re okay with it?” Once again, Rainbow reeled Rarity back into reality.
“Of course!” Rarity’s grin could have blinded the eyeless. It was, however, short lived. Something about Rainbow’s behavior seemed off. From her wide eyes to slightly tilted head, she seemed genuinely surprised that Rarity was fine with going on a date. Does she even know me? Rarity shook the thought away. Such unruly questions had a time and place, and now was neither. She had no idea how Rainbow’s day had gone. For all she knew Rainbow was not reacting to her at all.
“Okay, I—” A loud gasp cut her off. Rarity was suddenly against her face—literally nose to nose—pupils as big as dinner plates.
“Did you say seven?”
“Uh... yeah.”
“Oh my goodness, there may not be enough time!” She jerked away from Rainbow, eyes boring a hole into the clock. “Oh no, it’s nearly twelve thirty. No, no, no, that’s hardly enough time at all!”
“Jeez, Rares, when did you turn into Twil—”
“This is not a joke, Rainbow Dash! Getting properly prepared for a date takes time. There’s picking out a dress”—she thrust out a forehoof and began counting on it, enunciating each item with a loud tap—“doing proper alterations, taking a bath—including using the proper conditioners and making sure you use them correctly. Then of course there’s the make-up, mane styling, picking out what jewelry you should wear. Oh, and let’s not forget actually putting your dress on! Proper adjustments alone take at least an hour.”
Rainbow raised a forehoof. “Rare, you really need to chill. It’s just a date.”
“I’m going to pretend I did not just hear that.” Rarity’s blood boiled. What a daft... She canceled out the thought with a bite of her lip and loud hum. Culture takes time, she reminded herself. She would prefer it to move faster, however. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get prepared.” With that Rarity turned her nose skyward, and marched down the hall.
* * *
In one of Carousel Boutique’s many walk-in closets, a thunder roared. A thunder that sounded an awful lot like the clanking of clothes hangers and the grumblings of a mare of fashion.
One by one, Rarity went through some of her best dresses. Winning the title of “Rarity’s Date Dress” was one of the most difficult accomplishments for any dress to earn, and thus far not one had come close to claiming the crown.
“Too formal. Too casual. Too flashy. Too dull. Too... carrot-y.”
She had gone through four different meter-length racks, and not one was even remotely appropriate. In the past, she had made so many fine frocks. They had brought in a fortune. For once, she was regretting those transactions.
“Too flat. Too...” Her eyes settled on a pink dress. While most of it was a dark shade of pink, it had light pink stripes running down its back. She ran hoof from its frilly collar, all the way down to the end of its train. Though far from what had been hoping to find, it was quite a creation. With the right work to her hairstyle, tastefully applied makeup, and a proper necklace, she had no doubt that it would work wonderfully.
Smiling to herself, she took the dress in her magic and sauntered to the mirror. She draped the dress over her back, studying it carefully. As expected, it matched her coat perfectly. Her grin winded as she turned. Just from looking at it, she could tell it would really show off her body. She smiled up until the cycle was nearly completed, then it evaporated in the blink of an eye.
The leg. The fact that she had managed to forget about it for even a second both amazed and sickened her. It stuck out clear as day, a gratuitous slab of plastic, gripping on to what could barely be considered a thigh anymore, acting as though it belonged. Above it, scars and bald spots. Even her cutie mark, now only two diamonds strong, had not been spared.
There was no way she could go out like that.
Though maybe...
Closing her eyes and counting to ten, Rarity put the dress on properly, and began to walk back and forth in front of the mirror, stopping every other pass to strike a pose she considered routine to her—a lifted foreleg here, a tilted head and half-lidded gaze there. She had hoped beyond hope that maybe, just maybe, the train would cover the leg up, but each step filled Rarity’s vision with plastic, each movement brought with it a most unnatural clack.
She sighed, gracelessly pulled the dress off, tossed it into the corner, fell back onto her haunches, and leaned against one of her many mannequins. The desire to scream built up in her stomach, but came out as simple quivering breaths. It was quiet in that room. Heavy too. Her eyes stayed set on the mirror, unfocused.
“Rarity?” The voice was muffled, faint. Before Rarity could even fully comprehend that she had, in fact, heard someone calling her name, the door flew open, knocking over a couple of unfortunate mannequins and a few rolls of fabric. Rainbow rushed in soon after. Even without the use of both wings, she was a quick pony, and was at Rarity’s side in a heartbeat.
“I heard you fall. You okay?”
“I didn’t fall, I’m fine, I’m fine,” Rarity mumbled, pushing Rainbow’s foreleg away before it could be placed on her shoulder. Must have sat down heavier than I thought. Her eyes darted from Rainbow, to the mirror, to the dress tossed aside, to the leg. She groaned and shook her head. “What a roller coaster of a day it’s been.” She glanced back up at Rainbow, only to find her staring at the window, biting her lip. Slowly, she rose to her hooves and shuffled over to the dress. She picked it up, looked at it for a few moments, then turned back to Rarity.
“This is a nice dress,” she said. “I like it.”
Rarity couldn’t help but smile at that. “That’s a statement I never thought I'd hear you make.”
Rainbow snorted, but grinned as well. “Yeah, yeah, hammer it in.” She sighed and lifted it up again. “I mean it though. I really do like it.”
“It’s a miracle. I’ve made a dress cool enough for the infamous Rainbow Dash.”
“Hey now, I wouldn’t go that far.”
Silence fell between the two mares once more. Rarity straightened herself into a more dignified position, but remained seated. Rainbow, meanwhile, stood in the middle of the room, gaze drifting from the dress, to the window, to Rarity, and then back again. After what felt like hours spent in limbo, Rainbow draped the dress over a mannequin, and sat down beside Rarity.
“Rare, I know this”—she nodded toward Rarity’s prosthetic leg—“sucks, and I know being seen is probably the last thing you want right now, but... Rarity, you haven’t been outside of the Boutique in, like, two months."
"I did go outside last week."
"Yeah, for a second. You've only been out once or twice at, like, two in the morning in the last two months. That can’t be good for you. You need to get out.” Rarity opened her mouth to retort, but Rainbow cut her off with a wing over the mouth. “We’re gonna take this slow, I promise. This ain’t some crowded, fancy joint I’m taking you to, it’s Sugarcube Corner. Not exactly frou frou pony central, but... well, if there’s anyplace you’d feel comfortable besides here, it’s there. We can avoid the main roads. Hay, I walked from here to Sugarcube Corner around seven a few weeks ago, and I didn’t bump into a single thing on my way there—not even a friggin’ bird. Only ponies you gotta worry about seeing there are Pinkie, and maybe the Cakes. Pinkie already knows, and the Cakes are just about the nicest ponies in town, so you’ve got nothing to worry about there.”
Rarity sighed. “I appreciate it, Rainbow, but—”
“Nope. Cutting you off there. You need this, Rarity. Might not seem like it now, but trust me.”
“I don't... this seems a bit too fast.”
“Rare, I know the whole ‘run before you can walk’ thing, but you ain’t gonna learn to walk if you don’t take a step! I mean, do you plan on staying locked up in here forever?”
“Well, no. I mean, I did plan on going outside eventually. Someday. Maybe.”
“Then it’s time to stop putting it off.” With that, Rainbow stood up, and started toward the door... only to whirl around and pull Rarity into a kiss. She came up for air with a smirk shining on her face. “C’mon, it’ll be fun. And if it’s not... well, we’ll have fun tonight, one way or another.” Rarity’s cheeks burned, and Rainbow’s smirk widened into a sly grin. “Thought you’d like the sound of that.” Rainbow turned again, and waltzed out the door, shooting one last sultry glance before disappearing down the hall.
Once again, Rarity was alone. She rose to her hooves, and took the dress in her magic. It was a bit too late to add some length to the train. Maybe some ritzy socks or stockings? No, they would not cover it all, and did absolutely nothing to hide the sound. Oh, this won't work at all. She ran a hoof through her drooping mane. It just was not going to work. Rainbow had a good idea, but it was just that: a good idea. An unsteady rhythm rang out as she drummed a hoof on the floor. She could probably find a way to get out of all of it: faking sick or simply locking herself into her workroom—it would not be the first time.
No. She shook her head. Rainbow’s right. I need to do this. I can handle this.
A voice in the back of her head tried to protest, but Rarity shrugged it off and strode to the bathroom. It tried to complain again, but she drowned it out with a dunk underneath the warm bathwater. For a long while, she stayed in the bath, staring at the ceiling and letting it all soak in. By the time she unplugged the drain, a faint smile tugged at her lips.
A date.