Timed Ramblings

by Midnight herald


Counting

The clock ticked loudly, echoing out in awful, booming clicks through the grand bedroom. Pinkie had lost count of how many seconds she’d lain in the huge bed after 13,000. She sighed and started again. one. two. three. four...

It wasn’t that she liked counting the ticking, but she had nothing else to do. If she stopped for one awful second, if she let a percussive clack go by unnoticed, then her thoughts would start up again. Her imagination would move onto better uses of its time, and the shadows would mock her. The creaking bathroom door would begin its nightly ritual of mocking laughter, and the queen - no, the Princess-sized bed would stretch and grow until she got lost in the sea of chilly, uncaring bedsheets. She sighed again and shifted, taking the weight off her aching hip. twenty-one. twenty-two. twenty-three. twenty-four.

She could hear the scratching quill in the room next door, hear it as clearly as the terrible ticking noise or the rustling of the fine silken sheets as she shifted listlessly, glancing at the full moon through the balcony window, at the canopy above the bed, at the curling, writhing shadows in the corner. She shuddered and looked away. thirty-nine. fourty. fourty-one.fourty-two. Pinkie climbed off of the wonderfully soft mattress and stretched out her stiff back and neck before creeping out of the bedroom and into the study.

Twilight grumbled something and scratched out another paragraph before summoning a fresh sheet of paper and copying things over with a fevered pace. Pinkie stopped short a few feet from Twilight’s desk and coughed politely. Twilight didn’t like getting surprised while she was working.

“Are you coming to bed?” Pinkie asked after Twilight’s ears twitched. Twilight potted her quill and turned around, a slight frown on her face.

“In a little while,” she answered, her eyes softening a little at Pinkie’s concern. “I just need to finish this one last revision, alright?” Pinkie smiled and nodded, curling up on the rug. Out here, with Twilight’s mutterings and the lamplight, far enough away from that damned clock, she was safe. Twilight kept glancing at her after each sentence, her lips curled in distaste. “I’m sorry, Pinkie,” she said, crossing another t, “But you’re kinda distracting me.”

“Alright,” Pinkie sighed, walking back into the bedroom. She curled up on her side of the bed and tried to get more comfortable. one. two. three. four. five... It wasn’t that Twilight didn’t love her. But she was always so busy these days, and so she didn’t have as much time for laughing at jokes or baking cupcakes or reading stories aloud like she used to. twenty. twenty-one. twenty-two... After a while, Pinkie gave up and let herself begin to drowse away, remembering better times with chases and laughter and sunshine. Back when Twilight would stop the shadows in their tracks with a tender lullaby. She could see them now through half-lidded eyes, watched as they grew and twisted into bizzarre, frightening shapes. two hundred twenty-seven. two hundred twenty-eight.

The door opened and closed, and Twilight stood exposed in the moonlight. Her haggard face and tense, flexing wings stood out starkly in the silvery glow of he room, and she staggered over to their bed.

"I'm so sorry about that, Pinkie," she murmured. Pinkie could smell whiskey on her breath, again. But Pinkie smiled all the same and stroked Twilight's cheek. "I had to hammer out The details on the treaty with the Griffin tribes by tomorrow," she continued, her wing stroking along Pinkie's back.

"It's alright," Pinkie soothed. I know you have more in your life than me." Twilight flinched and nuzzled her neck fervently.

"I love you," Twilight whimpered, rolling on top of Pinkie beneath the silken sheets. She drew Pinkie into a desperate kiss that reeked of liquor, that burned too hot for Pinkie to want. She tried to push Twilight away with a small noise, but Twilight looked at her with haunted eyes. "I love you," she growled, before kissing her harder, forcing her whiskey-laden tongue into Pinkie's mouth. Pinkie held her right and safe and warm, like she needed. one. two. three...