Pinkie Pie Swear

by Annuska


4. Quaver

“Okay, first thing’s first.”

Pinkie Pie stood up and slid the door to the cold display case shut, resting her tongs down on a tray that sat on the counter behind her. She wound up the end of the cellophane bag containing three macarons and secured it with a silver twist-tie, setting that bag inside of a larger pink paper one, along with a single cookie in a paper sleeve.

“Cellphone number, puh-leaaasee!

“Heh. Right.”

Pinkie smiled as she took Sonata’s payment along with the slip of paper, sorting the bills and coins into the register before sticking the paper into her apron pocket. “I’d just have you put it into my contacts now but, y’know, workiiing! I’ll call you when I get home!”

“Text.”

“Text?”

“Texting is, uh . . . easier for me.”

“Well, okay! I guess that would make it easier for you to save my number, too.”

“So what’s the second thing?”

“Huh?”

“You said, ‘First thing’s first.’”

“Oh! There isn’t a second thing. I just wanted to say first thing’s first because it sounded more official and business-like.” Pinkie giggled.

Sonata laughed, leaning over the counter to slip Pinkie a quick (and modest) kiss on the cheek before turning to leave. Pinkie smiled at her as she went, holding a hand to her face but finding it to only make her cheek feel warmer than it already was. She continued to stare off into space even after the door shut and the shop bell signified the exiting of a customer, wholly encumbered by thoughts of silly, entirely-too-syrupy things to greet Sonata with the next time she came in: I may work in a bakery, but you’re the sweetest thing here!

Pinkie laughed at herself. That was ridiculous even for her.

Which just made it all the more perfect.

The bell rung again, this time signifying the entrance of a customer – or, more precisely, four customers – but Pinkie was still in her cotton candy cloud dreamland. Why wait to use that one next week when she could text it to her tonight and surround it with emoticons shaped like pink hearts—no, blue!—blue hearts and swirly sparkles and she was sure there was a cupcake or some other confectionary emoticon somewhere—

“Helllooo? Earth to Pinkie Pie?”

Pinkie stood up straight and alert as she was broken out of her reverie, hair bouncing around her face and momentarily obscuring her view of the four girls in front of her before settling back into place like magic.

“Hey, guys!”

Rainbow Dash laughed, shaking her head dismissively at her friend behind the counter. Pinkie smiled, waving to her and the others.

“We decided to come by and see you today,” Rainbow explained as she stepped aside to give the other girls some room to see Pinkie.

“Our schedules were all serendipitously free—well, all except yours,” Rarity added.

“So we thought, why not rendezvous here where y’can enjoy a li’l get-together, too?” Applejack winked at her.

“Dashie suggested it.” Fluttershy smiled at Rainbow.

Pinkie beamed. It wasn’t anything unusual (now, anyway) for her friends to be so considerate, but their history made her appreciate it all the more – and it felt like the icing on the cake that was her weekly outings with Sonata. Or maybe it was the other way around, since she saw Sonata less, and at the end of the week, and now also got to kiss her, and so it was the slightly sweeter but not as present portion – of course, the cake was really sweet too, but in its own way—

“I’ll go tell the Cakes I’m taking my lunch break and be right out!” Pinkie turned to leave, but stopped and turned back as she heard the other girls laughing.

“Y’ain’t gonna take our orders first?” Applejack raised an eyebrow.

“Ohhhh, yeah. Hehe. What’ll it be?”

·✫✫✫·

Friends’ orders filled and both a strawberry milkshake and peanut butter and jelly sandwich made for herself, Pinkie flopped down between Rarity and Fluttershy on the couch while Rainbow and Applejack pulled chairs up to the coffee table.

Pinkie glanced from friend to friend as she all but inhaled her milkshake, listening to the individual conversations they engaged one another in while she finished her lunch. Rarity and Rainbow discussed the matter of a photo shoot for the band (“Is that really necessary, Rarity?” “Of course not, but it isn’t unnecessary, either!”) while Fluttershy and Applejack talked bass chords for one of her songs. Pinkie giggled as she scooped some whipped cream up with her straw, glad to know that she wasn’t the only one working diligently months ahead of time.

Then something hit her.

“Where’s Sunset Shimmer?”

The other girls stopped talking and looked at each other.

“I did try and invite her,” Rarity said slowly, glancing to the side as she turned a curl around her finger. “But she said that she had things at home to do.”

Pinkie frowned and pushed the straw back into her drink, swirling it around and watching the whipped cream make white rivers between pastel pink hills of strawberry milkshake. She lifted the cup to take another drink before pulling the straw out again to lick it off.

“I think we should throw her a party!”

“A party?” Fluttershy looked up at Pinkie.

“Yeah! A ‘We’ve Been Friends for Over Two Months Now But Never Celebrated Properly slash Thanks for Being Our Friend We Love You Sunset Shimmer!’ party!”

“Pinkie, that’s—” Applejack stopped midsentence, glancing over at Rainbow. “That’s actually a real good idea.”

“I know,” Pinkie smiled.

“Guess that must’ve been what you were daydreaming about earlier, huh?” Rainbow laughed. “You were prrreeetty out of it.”

“H-Heh. Was I?” Pinkie held the straw at the side of her cup as she lifted it up to drink from the edge, attempting to obscure her face. She was sure it was a deeper shade of pink than usual.

“We were standing there for some time, darling.”

Pinkie swallowed down hard and lowered the cup. She rested it onto the table and dug her hands into her pockets, pulling out the strip of paper with Sonata’s number on it and turning it over in her fingers. It was weird that she felt she couldn’t say much about Sonata to her friends when she usually told them everything, and wanted to go on and on and on and on and on about her. She’d always had a sixth sense for weird things, though, and that sense seemed to be telling her to keep quiet about it.

Why?

“I was thinking about . . . someone else,” she told them, despite everything telling her not to. “A . . . girl.”

“Someone else? A girl?” Rarity sat up. “Oh, do tell!”

“A . . . really cute girl,” Pinkie giggled, picking up her cup again to push the straw around coyly. “She was just here before you guys came in. Actually, she’s been coming in every Friday for like over two months now and the last five Saturdays we went out and even though we’re not doing anything fancy tomorrow night I’m still so excited! Usually we go somewhere, though—like we went to the fair last week! And one time, I took her ice skating which was really fun because can you believe she’s never been ice skating? I had to hold onto her the whole time, hehe! Ohmigosh, we should go to the rink again soon now that I’m thinking about—”

“Oh, man,” Rainbow interrupted. “You are crushing so hard.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Fluttershy smiled.

“Sweeter than some Sweet Apple Acres apple pie!”

“That sounded kinda redundant, AJ. You said ‘sweet’ and ‘apple’ twice. I know it’s your brand and all but—”

Really, that’s what you two are concerning yourselves with?” Rarity frowned at Applejack and Rainbow.

“Wait, Pinkie,” Fluttershy said with a lifted hand. “Who is it?”

“Oh, uh, you don’t know her. She doesn’t go to our school.”

“But you must have known her much longer, yes?” Rarity inquired. “You know just about everyone here.”

Applejack laughed. “Yeah, whether they go to CHS or not.”

“And whether they live in Canterlot or not,” Rainbow added.

“I’m not sure her knowledge extends that far.” Fluttershy frowned.

“You must be joking.” Rarity shook her head. “I had relatives in from out of town and she somehow knew them!”

“And threw them a party?”

“That’s about as obvious a statement I ever did hear. Plainer than a—”

Maaaan, not another farm metaphor, AJ . . .”

“Um, actually, Rainbow, I . . . think it’s a simile.”

They continued to banter on, but now Pinkie’s thoughts were dragging her away from the conversation – and not to her cotton candy cloud dreamland. It was more of a confused, jawbreaker storm system where getting through to any logical conclusion felt like it took more time and effort than she could put in. And she didn’t have an umbrella. Or goulashes. Or a raincoat. Or a hammer for the jawbreakers.

Sonata told her that she and her roommates had been recent arrivals to the city, but she still didn’t know Sonata’s roommates, or their names, or . . . anything about them other than the very few details Sonata had previously shared with her. Sure, Canterlot was a big city, but she’d even (briefly) met that girl who looked like Twilight Sparkle’s twin (or doppelgänger – or was Twilight the doppelgänger, being from another world? – or did that even count if she wasn’t a human in her world? – or—) and she didn’t go to Canterlot High, either.

That wasn’t the issue, though, was it?

But any issue Pinkie could think of – the weird lateness last week? the way Sonata acted after asking her to get more hot chocolate? having to tell her ‘something’ and then saying it was ‘nothing’? only wanting a text, not a call? – didn’t seem important in its own accord, either.

But something still seemed off.

Her sixth sense was tugging at her and she didn’t like it. She didn’t like the feeling and wanted to go back to cotton candy clouds and melted caramel-chocolate swirl.

Pinkie Pie!

Pinkie blinked a few times as she looked at Applejack. “Yeah?”

“You were in Pinkie Land again.”

“Thinking about your darling girl, no doubt.” Rarity giggled.

Not in a way that made her feel like a good person.

Pinkie gave her friends smiles and hugs before excusing herself to resume her shift, telling herself she’d feel much better once she could get home and text Sonata, feel some reality to their relationship again and not be burdened by all of these silly, weird thoughts that weren’t like her normal weird thoughts.

And, of course, she was right –

– but some remnant of uncertainty would continue to linger at the back of her mind, anyway.


Sonata lifted her head and squinted her eyes at the iron numbers affixed to the house standing before her, then looked down at her phone screen and its foggy glow in the cold air.

2334.

This was it.

Drawing in a slow breath, Sonata shoved her phone back into her coat pocket and approached the front door. She rang the bell, then decided she was a bit too close to the door and took a step back, proceeding to distract herself by observing the holiday décor that lit up the front lawn. It looked like a party not waiting to happen, but in the process of happening, with copious amounts of multi-coloured everything from lights and baubles to ribbons and garlands.

It was truly, eccentrically Pinkie Pie, but the lights thrown over some large boulders sitting in the yard seemed a little excessive even for— well— Pinkie Pie.

With a faint creak, the door opened, and Sonata looked back to see a young woman with pin-straight, shoulder-length, grey-lavender hair staring unblinking at her.

Sonata glanced around. Did she have the wrong house?

“Is Pinkie there—here?” Sonata stammered. “Here. Is Pinkie here, is what I meant. To ask. Um.”

“Yes.” The young woman blinked once, slowly. Her voice was jarringly flat and reminiscent of Aria on an especially bad day.

“I’m, uh . . . supposed to meet her?”

“You must be one of her friends. Pinkie has a loooot of friends.”

She lengthened the word, but it still came out flatly.

Sonata hesitated, then started, “Yeah, I’m Sona—”

The young woman stepped past her without waiting for her to finish, and Sonata watched as she walked into the snow-laden yard wearing nothing more than house slippers, long pyjama bottoms, and a thin sweater, stopping in front of a boulder to adjust the position of the lights strung over it.

Sonata glanced away and reached up to play with her ponytail uneasily, then leaned to the side slightly to look inside of the house – and with flawless timing, Pinkie bounced out in front of her, waving wildly.

Hiya!

Sonata jumped, grabbing tightly onto her own hair.

“You made it!”

Pinkie grabbed Sonata up into an enthusiastic embrace, and it melted away the discomfort that had previously swathed Sonata. She giggled as Pinkie pulled away.

And you met Maud, too!”

“Maud?”

“My older sister!” Pinkie turned and waved eagerly at Maud, who returned the sentiment by way of slow smile before reverting to her former blank look. “Isn’t she great?! You gotta come over for dinner sometime! I mean, dinner when it’s all us and not just you and me. She has sooo many great poems and fashions and cool facts to share! She can get kinda wild, but it’s great!

Sonata glanced over at Maud, then back at Pinkie with nothing more than a smile and zipped lips.

Pinkie escorted her inside and up the stairs to her room, which Sonata found to be . . . much tamer than she had imagined: subdued colours rather than explosively bright ones, slight personal touches in the décor rather than overt ones. It was cosy and homely, though, and Sonata liked it – and as she glanced around, she caught sight of a stuffed alligator resting among Pinkie’s pillows.

Sonata lifted her hands to her face. “Is that—”

“Gummy!” Pinkie plopped down on the bed with a bounce, pulling the stuffed alligator up into her arms lovingly. “I didn’t wanna just put him up on a shelf with the rest of my alligator stuff, he’s too cute!

Sonata pulled her coat off and sat down on the bed, watching as Pinkie continued to cuddle the toy. She smiled and set the coat down behind her, leaning her head against Pinkie’s shoulder, content to sit without saying a word. She felt Pinkie’s fingers brushing aside her fringe gently, and so she pulled the tie away from her ponytail, shaking it free.

Having her hair down and relaxed made Sonata feel relaxed, too – enough so that she lay down on Pinkie’s lap, and in return, Pinkie ran one hand through Sonata’s hair while the other took Sonata’s hand and rested atop her chest. It felt like floating weightless upon water, letting the current carry her about, lull her into serenity. With a slow breath, Sonata closed her eyes.

Then giggled.

“Wanna hear something funny?”

“’Course I do!”

“I kinda thought you, like, lived at the café.”

Pinkie laughed, and the mirthful quaking only made Sonata laugh, too.

“It’s not my fault! You, like, came jumping down the stairs all dressed up!”

“There’s a break room in the loft, silly! I was covering someone else’s shift and didn’t have time to go home and change and come back before you got there.”

Ohh.” Sonata giggled again, at nothing in particular – just being with Pinkie. Laughing with her. Feeling different around her. In a good way. She turned onto her back, smiling up at her friend—girlfriend?

Girlfriend.

Pinkie smiled back down at her, free hand tracing the locks of hair framing Sonata’s face. The touch tickled Sonata and she laughed again, calming for a fleeting moment as Pinkie’s fingers fell away from her face – only to tense up as she realised they were now resting against her necklace.

“You’re always wearing this,” Pinkie said, lightly tracing the bevels of the red gem. “I’ve never seen you without it.”

“It’s, uh—” Sonata swallowed down hard, face flushing. “It’s my favourite! Heh. It’s . . . really special to me.”

“It’s super pretty. It matches your eyes!”

Sonata breathed out. Calm down, she told herself, being weird about it will just make her suspicious.

“Thanks,” she managed in a steadier tone. Pinkie continued to turn the gem over in her fingers, playing with the way the light reflected off of it, and little by little, Sonata relaxed, realising that despite her kneejerk reaction, she had no reason to worry for the safety of her pendant in Pinkie’s care. Pinkie wouldn’t yank it off and play keep-away – or throw it out the window – or shatter it into a million pieces.

She trusted her.

“I feel kinda silly now,” Pinkie said as she rested the gem back down against Sonata’s neck.

Sonata lifted her eyes toward Pinkie. “Why?”

“Because—uh, wait, hold on!”

Following Pinkie’s gentle nudge, Sonata sat up and pulled her hair behind her shoulder, crossing her legs as she watched Pinkie walk to the closet and back, returning with a small package in her hands. The package was wrapped up in shiny blue snowflake-patterned paper and tied with a curly white bow, and when Pinkie sat on the bed, she handed it to Sonata.

“I got this for you, but . . . well, I probably should’ve found something else!”

Lifting the end of a thin, curled ribbon, Sonata stared at the present with some confusion before tearing the paper off from one edge to another, sliding the velvet box underneath out of its former casing. She lifted the lid of the box slowly, eyes widening as she took sight of the piece of jewellery lying inside: a silver eighth-note pendant on a silver chain necklace.

“I mean, I knew you wore your necklace all the time so I don’t know why I thought I’d get you another one! ‘Cause, I mean, of course it would be really special to you if you’re always wearing it and then you told me just now that it is and I dunno I saw this and thought, ‘hey, doesn’t Sonata wear a lot of clothes with that note’ and—”

“It—It’s pretty,” Sonata said, gingerly lifting the necklace out of the box. She pulled it around her neck, reaching under her hair to close the clasp before straightening the pendant out. Pinkie sprang up and grabbed a hand-held mirror off a shelf, then handed it to Sonata. Sonata lifted it and smiled a bit at her reflection.

It did look good on her.

She lifted her eyes over the mirror to look at Pinkie (sitting on the bed again, smiling widely), glanced at her reflection again (a neutral expression on her own face now), and then set the mirror aside.

“But I don’t think it matches mine.”

Pinkie’s wide smile disappeared. “Oh.”

Sonata reached behind her neck again, feeling around for a fastener—and pulled the black ribbon off. She sat on her knees, leaned forward, and reached behind Pinkie’s neck, locking the clasp in place under her hair, then pulled away just far enough to see how it looked (smiling again).

“So you can hold onto it for a little bit.”

Pinkie looked down at herself and giggled.

“I thiiiiink it looks better on you,” she said.

I think it looks fine,” Sonata said as she giggled, too. A strange sort of exhilaration came over her – whether from feeling strongly enough about Pinkie to trust her with something so valuable and irreplaceable or from everything else about her feelings, the overwhelming need to be close and share everything – it shortened her breath and made her feel alive. She leaned forward again to give Pinkie a kiss on the cheek, and pulled back – and then leaned forward once more to kiss her lips.

This time she didn’t pull away.

Neither did Pinkie – instead, she lifted her arms to pull Sonata closer, one hand on her back and another in her hair. Sonata grasped onto Pinkie’s sides, warmth rising from her chest through her neck to her face and driving a light-headedness at her forehead, and finally, she pulled back for the sake of cooling herself, head spinning and thoughts buzzing and lights dancing in a dazzling array.

But then something started blaring, too. Screaming at her, turning the dizziness against her as Pinkie leaned back slightly and a glint of light hit the red gem around her neck, bouncing off threateningly instead of beautifully, reminding her of what she really was and what she and Pinkie weren’t and could never be.

And everything came crashing down at once.

Sonata shakily reached under her hair, fumbling with the clasp on the silver necklace before letting it fall to the bed as she retrieved hers from around Pinkie’s neck, pulling it back on with such panic that she wasn’t sure she had even secured the ribbon the right way.

“S-Sonata . . .?”

Sonata kicked her legs off the side of the bed, standing unsteadily as she grabbed her coat and pulled it around herself tightly.

“I can’t do this,” she breathed.

“Do . . . do what? Was that too much? I’m sorry, I—”

No!” Sonata couldn’t turn to face Pinkie. It hurt too much. Her chest heaved and tears bit at the edges of her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall. “It—It’s not that. I just—I can’t do this. I can’t! I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

She wouldn’t let the tears fall she wouldn’t she wouldn’t—she did.

She let them fall as she stomped down the stairs and hurried through the house and slammed the door shut behind her. She let them fall as she nearly slipped on some ice in the middle of the sidewalk. She let them fall as she kicked the snow aside and brought her foot down on the ice heavily, angrily.

And then she lifted her hands to wipe her face, now hot from tears instead of lovestruck joy, but they wouldn’t stop. It was horrible and wrong to just run out like that, but she couldn’t stay.

She should’ve just stood Pinkie up. She should’ve stopped coming by the café. She should’ve said no from the start.

Far enough from Pinkie’s house, Sonata slowed to a trudging walk as her sobs settled into something less menacing and more subdued. She didn’t want to walk into her apartment still crying, having to answer Adagio and Aria’s questions about why she was crying or where she’d been or how the two were related. She didn’t want to hear how stupid she was.

It wasn’t like she didn’t know.

It wasn’t like she didn’t know showing interest in any human only put her into a precarious place. It wasn’t like she didn’t know that even if it did work, her lifespan as a siren was almost guaranteed to exceed any human’s. That even if being a siren wasn’t the issue, the goals she and Aria and Adagio had were. That it was stupid for her to have hilltop picnics, to use her powers for something as trivial as winning a stuffed alligator, to let someone else wear her necklace.

Sonata grasped onto the gem, then pulled her hand back quickly before she could act on the intruding thoughts telling her to rip it off and throw it away.

That was stupid, too.

No. It’d be okay. She’d get over Pinkie and forget about her eventually. She’d forget the way Pinkie made her entire body feel lighter than the ocean ever could, the way Pinkie’s words were more melodic to her ears than any song she could ever sing, the way she felt like she could live off nothing more than a simple kiss for weeks on end. She’d forget and she’d be okay and she’d get what she really wanted and there’d be nothing to miss.

But for now, she felt like she’d torn her own heart in two.