//------------------------------// // 3. Caramel-Fudge Swirl // Story: Pinkie Pie Swear // by Annuska //------------------------------// “There!” Sonata smiled at herself in the mirror, the edges of her bow falling away from her fingers as she finished pulling it taut, and she turned her head slightly to see the bow in full effect ‒ or, to see it as well as she could with the bow resting at the back of her head. Hmm. Something seemed like it was missing. And not quite . . . her. She picked up a studded barrette, pulled the ribbon loose, and clipped the barrette in the bow’s place, smiling again. Better. She patted the top of her head as if to set the style, tracing her fingers along the pulled-back locks to where the barrette held them behind her head, and then down her back. Putting her hair into a half-up-half-down style was a nice, refreshing change from her typical ponytail, and much more suitable for the snowy weather outside. And because of the snowy weather, she was sure to pull her heavy raspberry coat out of the closet—okay, it was Adagio’s heavy raspberry coat, but it matched her outfit too perfectly to pass up. Even if it was a little on the fancy side for her tastes. It was a Saturday afternoon, and Sonata could barely contain her excitement for her evening plans. She’d been meeting up with Pinkie outside of Sugarcube Corner on Saturdays for the past three weeks since their hilltop starlit picnic, but tonight was especially exciting because she had made the plans for once. Safe in the solitude of her (and Adagio and Aria’s) room, Sonata sang out the chorus to a song from the radio she’d recently taken particular fancy to, dancing from mirror to bed to closet as she closed the lid on her mascara, pulled Adagio’s coat on, slung her bag over her shoulder, and took hold of the closet door. “Well, someone’s chipper today.” The door shut with a louder slam than Sonata intended (which had been not at all) and her singing came to an abrupt stop as she spun around. “Is that my coat?” Adagio raised an eyebrow as she stood at the threshold of the room’s door, hand rested on her hip. “Well, duh, it’s your coat,” Sonata said with a shrug, tying the belt around her waist tightly. “So what? You’re not using it right now.” “I’ve told you to ask before just taking my stuff. I can’t believe this is a recurring problem.” Adagio let out a heavy breath as she looked Sonata up and down, stepping closer and lifting a hand to pick up a few strands of her hair before letting them cascade away from her fingers slowly. “That’s a nice style on you.” “Really?! Tha—” “You must have some really important plans.” Adagio paused, gave a small, condescending laugh, and added: “Again.” Sonata looked down. She felt Adagio’s fingers tracing around the back of her head, plucking her hair like a harp, and she reached behind her to pull it back into place as Adagio came to a stop at the other side of her. “What, I can’t go and do stuff by myself?” Sonata huffed. “Of course you can, Sona. The three of us are perfectly capable of doing things by ourselves. It’s just that it’s a bit . . . hmm . . . unusual that you have such impeccable timing every single week. Come to think of it –” Adagio lifted a finger to her lips, glancing upward “– it was around when we stopped in on that café that this started happening, wasn’t it?” “I dunno what you’re talking about,” Sonata said. “I think you do.” “Nope. I think you’re crazy.” “Oh? Is Aria crazy, too?” “Huh?” “Let’s see what she thinks, shall we? Aaaariiiaaa!” Sonata narrowed her eyes and glared at the wall. She wanted to tell Adagio exactly how stupid she thought all of this was, but she knew better and didn’t dare to. Not that it would have mattered – Aria appeared at the door where Adagio had previously stood within a matter of seconds and wasted no time in making herself heard. “What is it? I was—” Aria stopped short as she caught sight of Sonata, lifting an eyebrow. “Are you going out again?” “Told you.” Adagio let out a self-satisfied laugh as she flipped her hair behind her shoulder, only for it to fall in front again. Sonata rolled her eyes. “I get tired of being stuck here with you two all the time,” she said. Well, she wasn’t lying. Pulling her bag strap further up her shoulder, Sonata began to march past her roommates, but they aligned themselves in front of the door with perfect synchronisation, barring her path. “It’s just kind of funny that after – what, a thousand years? – you finally decide to do something about it.” “I’ve done stuff before, Aria!” “Not like clockwork, Sonata.” “You must care an awful lot if you’re keeping an eye on me like that.” “It’s a little hard to miss when you’re gone every weekend.” “But you didn’t say you don’t—” “Girls.” Adagio lifted her hands and made a cutting motion toward both Aria and Sonata, and they instantly ceased arguing. Smiling, Adagio stepped away from the door and toward Sonata once more, running her fingers through her hair again before lifting them to rest on Sonata’s cheek. “Sonata, you know we just want to make sure everything goes right. And for that, we need you, too.” Adagio’s hand lowered to rest on Sonata’s shoulder. “I won’t ask what you’re doing, or who you’re going to see, but remember: you’re one of us.” “And we’re not dumb, either,” Aria added, then continued, under her breath, “unlike you.” Sonata stamped her foot heavily. “You guys worry too much about nothing,” she said, pulling away from Adagio and making sure to bump Aria aside as she pushed past her and out the door. ·♪♪♪· Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid. That was all Sonata could think as she stomped down the street, deliberately going out of her way to crunch the thin layer of snow lying at the edge of the sidewalk. Stupid Adagio. Stupid Aria. Stupid friends. What kind of friends were they, anyway, never letting her do what she wanted? Stupid stupid stupid. As soon as she walked out into the apartment complex’s hall, she had considered going back, just so she could turn around and throw Adagio’s stupid fancy coat back at her square in the face, but she thought better of it, knowing it would only make her look like she couldn’t think to do that before leaving – and she needed the coat to keep warm. And look nice with her outfit. Stupid. Stupid Aria with her condescending remarks that she always had to throw into everything, even when it had nothing to do with her. Stupid Adagio dragging Aria into it to begin with. Stupid Adagio pulling her seductress siren act on her. Stupid her for feeling guilty that she couldn’t just tell them. It wasn’t her fault she couldn’t tell them; their “conversation” was exactly why, and it wasn’t her own choosing for them to act like that. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone, especially not either of them, but it hurt that they’d think she would just up and abandon them for anyone else, let alone someone she’d known only a few months. But now that thought made her feel bad for considering Pinkie to be a lesser friend. Did she? Well – no, it wasn’t that she did. But she had known Aria and Adagio for so long – literal centuries – and she couldn’t imagine a life without them. She didn’t want to. The more she got to know Pinkie, though, the harder it was getting to imagine the inevitable end to their relationship. Sonata stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Maybe this was a mistake. Tap-tap-tap-tap. Pinkie Pie drummed her fingers against the side of the bench, humming as she bobbed her head from side-to-side to the beat of the song stuck in her head. There was still time before she had to perform said song with her band – at least two and a half more months – but she had been practising her part to perfection nonetheless, and now the rhythm wouldn’t leave her alone. It had kept her busy and distracted well enough for the past few minutes while waiting for Sonata in their designated meeting place, but now the minutes had slipped past comfortably, understandably late to uncomfortably, worryingly late. Pinkie’s fingers slowed to a stop and she glanced around before standing up. Taking her phone out of her pocket to check the time only disquieted her further when she actually saw how long past their appointed meet up time it had become. It seemed unusual for someone who had visited her with such unwavering punctuality for an entire nine weeks to suddenly be so unpunctual. Pinkie unlocked her screen and opened her contacts – and then stopped as she realised she didn’t have Sonata’s number. Or email address. Or anything. She couldn’t ask any of her friends – they didn’t even know Sonata. Deflating, Pinkie slumped back down onto the bench, unsure of whether to feel worried or disappointed. Or maybe both? Worrippointed? Somehow, it didn’t roll off the tongue like nervicited. She didn’t know what to do. Should she stay and wait? Go home and hope Sonata would come by next week to clear things up? If she left now, she’d feel bad about going – but if she waited too long, she’d just feel more and more antsy and restless. No, what she needed to do was to put a timer on herself: wait a set amount of time and then go without . . . as much guilt. Pinkie sat up straight. Ten more minutes it was. She pulled her coat around herself tighter. Nine more. Started tapping her fingers again. Eight more. Answered a text from someone. Six. Started to really worry. Five. Maybe something did happen to her. It really didn’t seem like her to just not show. Three. Pinkie pushed a hand through her hair and looked down the street. One more minute. She knew there was no way she was going to be able to stop thinking about it until Friday now. And Friday suddenly seemed like an eternity to wait. Pinkie stood up again, digging her hands into her pockets. Her self-imposed ten minutes were up and there was still no sign of Sonata. She thought about texting Rarity, asking if she could stop by, since her place was on the way – but she decided she felt too out of sorts to enjoy anyone else’s company. Too unlike herself. This sad, worried Pinkie Pie was not usually her – but tonight, it was. “Pinkie Pie!” Pinkie spun around to see Sonata some distance away, half-walking-half-running to try and catch up to her from down the street without slipping on the icy sidewalk. A wave of relief washed over Pinkie and she felt a new life in her step, new bounce in her curls. She smiled widely, hurrying down to meet Sonata half-way, pulling her into an enveloping hug the minute she reached her. “Ohmigosh, I was soooo worried, Sonata! I thought you weren’t gonna show but then I was like, ‘Well, that’s kind of weird for her,’ so then I was like, ‘what if something happened?!’ and that wasn’t any better because I didn’t have any way to reach you and I got super sad for a minute and—” Pinkie stopped to inhale deeply. “Sorry.” Sonata pulled away before Pinkie could continue, lifting a hand to tousle her own hair as she looked away. “I got held up by my roommates and then I had to . . . stop . . . somewhere. I, uh, totally get it if you don’t wanna go out anymore. Tonight. Or, like. Ever.” “Of course I still wanna go out, silly!” Pinkie laughed as she shook her head, and then leaned forward to kiss Sonata’s cheek. “I’m just super glad you’re okay and here and nothing bad hap—oh. Uh. I just kissed you, didn’t I. Um . . .” Sonata giggled as she leaned forward to return the kiss. “I liked it.” Pinkie glanced off to the side with a giggle of her own. “I like your hair like that,” she said as she looked back. “Thanks! I do, too!” “So, uh . . . we’re still going tonight, right?” “Uh, yeah!” ·✫✫✫· Between the kisses, Sonata’s chosen date idea, and the fun she had being there with her, Pinkie all but forgot about the brief distress of thinking something terrible had happened – either to Sonata or their relationship. In much the same fashion that Pinkie had surprised her during their first date, Sonata insisted on covering Pinkie’s eyes as she walked her toward their destination, only pulling away after stopping her in exactly the right spot to give her a full view of their destination’s dazzling sights: carnival lights, game booths, and food stalls, all done up in festive winter décor. “It took me foreeveeer to find a winter fair that wasn’t too far to walk to,” Sonata said, watching the excitement in Pinkie’s eyes as she took in the sight. “It’s – so – perfect!” Pinkie practically shrieked the words out as she held her hands to her chest, jumping up in place. The first order of business, of course, was getting funnel cakes and hot chocolate to warm themselves up with before walking the craft booths – and subsequently finding their second order of business to be distraction by sugar cookie decorating. Cookies decorated and a mess properly left, they continued on to the game booths, where Pinkie espied an exceptionally desirable stuffed alligator at the ring toss. “You . . . like that?” Sonata raised an eyebrow at the less-than-cuddly-looking toy. It had its quirky charm, she supposed, and she supposed she could see Pinkie liking such a thing. “I collect alligators!” Pinkie exclaimed. “If I could, I’d have my own as a pet and love it and cuddle it and give it the cutest little name and wash it in my bathtub and feed it cake and—and—and—!” Sonata fished inside of her bag for a single bill, exchanging it for a set of throwing rings. Rings in hand, Sonata positioned herself to throw the first one, which . . . sailed over the booth entirely. The second landed on a peg resting in the middle row. The third caught the edge of a peg on the top row – and then slipped off and landed on the ground. As a consolation prize, the booth master gave Sonata a fun-size candy bar, and the stuffed alligator remained high upon the upper tier prize shelf. Sonata turned the hardly-fun-at-all-sized candy over in her hand with a frown, but Pinkie clapped for her just as excitedly as if she had hit the target all three times. With a sigh, Sonata gave the candy bar to Pinkie, but glanced away as she did so. “Is something wrong?” “No . . .” Sonata trailed off, then looked back at Pinkie and smiled, tilting her head. “But can you do me, like, a huge favour? I’d loooveee more hot chocolate, but I have to, y’know, uh . . .” “Oki-doki-loki!” Pinkie nodded without waiting for Sonata to finish. She skipped off back toward the food area, then stopped mid-skip, realising she’d have to stabilise herself on the way back to keep their drinks from spilling. Or would she? Theoretically, if she misplaced liquid, and moved the cup in time to catch it . . . — Pinkie paid for the two hot chocolates (with extra whipped cream, sprinkles, and cherries on top, of course!) and spun around, ready to head back and find Sonata—which didn’t take long at all, considering Sonata was standing right behind her. “Surprise!” Sonata nearly—but not quite—sang the word out as she lifted both arms to show Pinkie the coveted alligator. She beamed brightly. Pinkie’s eyes widened. “You won it?” “Um . . . yeah!” Sonata giggled, but something about her tone seemed . . . off. For a brief two seconds, Pinkie only stared at her – and then dismissed whatever weird thoughts she was having (because, really, when wasn’t she having weird thoughts?) and set the cups down on a nearby table to grab the alligator up into her hold, hugging it tightly before tucking it under one arm to pull Sonata into the hug as well. Upon finishing their second round of hot chocolate, Pinkie pulled Sonata along to the Ferris wheel, pushing through the gate and sitting down close to her in the gondola with her stuffed toy on her opposite side. She didn’t say anything, only held onto Sonata’s arm and rested her head against her shoulder, warming as she felt Sonata’s head lying atop her own. It was like her insides were a caramel-fudge swirl of warmth and goodness and happiness and she was perfectly content to let them stay that way for a while, sappy and gooey and sticky in the most delicious and satisfying way. The gondola came to a slow stop just below the top of the wheel, and they sat silently, staring out over the view of the fair, until Sonata broke the silence. “Pinkie?” “Yeah?” “I have to tell you something.” “What is it?” A short, unsure pause, and then: “Um. Nothing. It’s just that . . . this is . . . really nice.” Pinkie smiled as she laced her fingers between Sonata’s. “Yeah. It is.”