**********
They were talking about nothing, and she loved it. She hung on her every word, savoring the taste of each syllable, each breath. It was an opera, every clarifying question a duet. But in every scene she humbly bowed to the soloist, whose voice cut through the air like the first light of dawn through a winter’s night.
“Twilight, are you alright?”
“Yes!” Twilight said, a little too quickly, almost knocking her teacup off of its perch on the cafe table. Her chair teetered under her desperate lunge to right it. Recovering with as much tact as she could manage, she continued, “I mean, I really enjoy these brunches, Rarity.”
The soloist giggled, “Quite. We simply must do this more often.”
“I’d love to.”
“Mmm,” Rarity smiled. “Unfortunately, however, duty calls. I really must get back to work on my new line.”
“Of course.” Twilight rose from her chair, as did her dining partner. Twilight nervously fumbled for her coinpurse. They both knew it was an act.
“Please, allow me, dear,” Rarity said, dropping a generous pile of coins on the table.
Thank you, Twilight breathed. Celestia made sure she had enough money to live, but there was no way she could afford to eat out this often. Rarity gave her a soft, understanding smile and a quick hug, then turned and strolled down the street. For a moment, Twilight stared after her, a soft grin fixed on her face, before practically dancing back to the library.
*****
Twilight paced back and forth on the ground beneath Rainbow Dash’s home in the clouds. There were a million ways this could go wrong, and she felt like such an idiot for needing Dash’s help in the first place. She lost herself in the steady rhythm, back and forth on the hill. One, two, three, four, five, six, turn around the purple flower. What if she’s offended? One, two, three, four, five, six, turn around the rock. What if she’s jealous? One, three, four, five, six, turn around the purple flower. What if she doesn’t know what I should do? Two, three, four, five, turn around the rock. What if she doesn’t care? Four, two, six, turn around the ro - Where’s the rock? She suddenly stopped, disoriented, staring at the place she had expected the rock to be, but finding only an obstinate flower. She whirled around. She looked at the rock, right where it had always been. She felt dizzy.
She sat down on the grass. I should just go back to the library. This is a waste of time. What was I expecting? She stood up, and took six steps in the direction of home before stopping again. I didn’t come all the way out here just to turn around and go home! Seizing this moment of motivation, she gathered her magical energy, and with a pop and a flash of light, she teleported to Rainbow Dash’s front door.
She immediately fell through the clouds, plummeting towards the earth with a surprised yelp. Instinctively, she caught herself in a magical bubble and landed. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she cursed herself, How could I forget? She cast a cloudwalking enchantment on herself, and then teleported again, this time safely landing on Dash’s porch. She raised her hoof to knock on the door, but it made no sound on impact. She tried again, and again, and again, flailing her hoof in frustration.
“Uh, Twilight? You can’t knock on clouds. There’s a doorbell for a reason.”
She whirled around. Rainbow Dash was perched on her mailbox, her brow slightly sweaty from a morning flight. How long has she been watching me? Did she see me fall? Oh, Celestia, I’m such a clutz! She’ll never take me seriously now! I should never have come here! Her horn flashed, and she was back on the ground, alone.
Rainbow Dash tried to process the situation. She could still see Twilight in the distance, running down the road. She stretched her wings to follow, but she saw Twilight stop, sit down, and hit herself in the face. Then she stood and took several deep breaths. Her horn flashed in the distance, and simultaneously Rainbow’s vision exploded in purple, the surprise knocking her off of the mailbox. She was glad the cloud was soft.
“Are you gay?!” Twilight yelled.
All Rainbow could do was blink.
Twilight’s face blossomed in a deep shade of red. “Not that I think you are! I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with that! Not that there would be anything wrong with that! And there would definitely be nothing wrong if you weren’t because it’s purely a personal thing and of course I would have no business telling you what to do not that I would want to tell you what to do and you know what I’m sorry to bother you I really should be going now -” she turned, her horn beginning to glow again. But before she could teleport, Rainbow Dash grabbed her.
“Twilight! Chill out!” She spun her around. Twilight shrank from her gaze, but made no more attempt to escape. “What’s going on?”
Twilight only whimpered. Dash thought she saw a tear forming in her eye. “Come inside,” she said, gently guiding the unicorn over the threshold and to the couch in the front room. She briefly disappeared into the kitchen before returning with two glass bottles of cold soda. She handed one to Twilight, and pulled up a chair.
They sat in silence for a few moments while Twilight caught her breath. She sipped at the bottle, noticeably relaxing. After a while, she muttered, almost whispering, “I love Rarity.” She looked at Rainbow, waiting for a reaction.
“Oh.”
Twilight looked back down, not wanting to speak.
“Why did you come to me?”
“I don’t know. There have always been rumors about you, you know, that you liked mares. I was maybe hoping for some advice?”
Rainbow chuckled. “You make one flirtatious remark in the high school locker room…”
“You’re not, then?” Twilight almost seemed disappointed.
Dash leaned back, and took a drink before answering. “To be honest, I don’t know. I’ve never really had time for that kind of thing, and it never seemed like such a big deal to me. But as far as it goes, I don’t think I’d turn down someone that approached me, male or female - if I liked them, of course.”
“Oh. Do - do you think, maybe, Rarity is?” Twilight was almost pleading.
“I’m sorry, Twilight, but I have no idea.”
She slumped down into the couch.
“But I do know one thing. You two would look really cute together. And if you’ve got a shot at finding something special, you need to take it. It doesn’t hurt to talk.”
*****
She had the opportunity, so Twilight literally walked on clouds on the way home.
*****
It was the morning of the first snow of winter that Twilight resolved to make her feelings known to Rarity. She spent nearly an hour in front of the mirror before leaving the library. She wasn’t really one for makeup, usually, but she felt that today was special. Still, she didn’t use much. She covered some blemishes, applied mascara, then topped it off with a slight pink blush. She ran a brush through her mane and tail for the first time in days, smoothing out every wrinkle. She added a canary yellow scarf and a pair of small blue earrings to the ensemble.
She caught herself admiring her own work on more than one occasion. She couldn’t resist; she looked positively sexy. She didn’t like to think of herself as caring about external appearances, but she couldn’t deny how good she felt at that moment, watching herself move in the mirror. Visions sprang unbidden of the alluring purple mare sharing a blanket with Rarity on a cold winter night. For a few moments she lived vicariously. She could hear the crackle of the fire, smell the cocoa warming on the stove, and feel the warmth of Rarity’s body pressed into hers.
She realized that she’d been staring into the mirror for minutes now, and the sight of the contented smile on her face made her feel so pleasant that it broke into a wide grin. She was on top of the world, and she resolved right then to ensure that she paid more attention to her appearance in the future. It would be easy, of course, with Rarity by her side. She could see it now: She would be in the bathroom, struggling with her makeup, when Rarity would stroll in, and, seeing her predicament, rush to her aid. She would wipe away the mistake, and then gently guide her through the proper method. Twilight would immediately see the difference, and give her a little peck on the cheek as a token of her gratitude. Rarity would lean in to return the favor, when she’d look down in shock. Surely she wasn’t planning on wearing that with those earrings! No, no, no! She’d drag her to a podium, eyes glowing with inspiration for her next piece. Twilight would offer mock excuses, “Really, Rarity, you shouldn’t put yourself through any trouble…” She wouldn’t respond. She was focused.
Twilight caught herself wearing another goofy grin. She laughed, and went outside.
*****
The afternoon’s music was lovely as always when Twilight met Rarity at their usual cafe. Twilight was in unusually high spirits, and her wit was impressing even herself. They laughed as they sang together. On more than one occasion, Twilight found herself lost in Rarity’s eyes or swimming through her mane. She was sure she’d noticed by now. She’d have to be entirely oblivious not to. If she didn’t reciprocate the feeling, she would have stopped her by now, right? At least she’d be growing uncomfortable. But if anything, her smile was growing warmer, and more relaxed.
Rarity was in the midst of a long story. Twilight was trying to pay attention, really she was, but her concentration was divided at best. Say it, Twilight. Butterflies danced in her stomach. Do it quickly, like ripping off a bandage, and it will be over just as quickly. Maybe she’ll even kiss it, to make it better? That mental image made her sit a little straighter. She won’t reject you or she’d have said something by now. It’s obvious! You’re probably sweating more pheromones than a cat in heat!
She took a deep breath, and opened her mouth. Her body locked up. Her mouth felt suddenly dry. She practically dove for her tea, and relaxed as its soothing warmth spread into her body. She realized with horror what she’d almost done. I was going to interrupt her! I can’t believe I’d be so rude! Rarity would never tolerate such behavior in a girlfriend. I need to watch myself, be more careful. She forced a smile as she finally started listening to the story.
“... and then I said, ‘Why, Sir Greenbelt, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were asking me on a date!’ And do you know what he said? He looked me right in the eye, told me I was the most beautiful mare he’d ever seen - he was right, of course, I was wearing the grey dress, which I matched with a blue corsage, I looked simply divine - and he said he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t ask me to the Dance of the Daffodils next month. Can you believe that? I naturally just melted, and -” She was interrupted by the sound of a loud sniff, then the screech of a sliding metal chair. She came back to reality just in time to see Twilight walking away. “Twilight?”
Twilight went faster, almost breaking into a run.
“Twilight!” She stood to follow after her, but with a flash of purple light, she was gone.
*****
She was busy. That was why she’d left. She had muttered something to that effect shortly before leaving the cafe. She wasn’t a foal, she could handle rejection. That wasn’t the problem. She was busy. It was absurd of her to assume that Rarity was gay anyway - and of course she never did, she merely entertained the possibility. And now it turned out that she wasn’t. Oh well, Twilight, turns out the world doesn’t revolve around your whims. I bet that’s a real surprise. She’d just remembered that she needed to check in on some magical herbs growing in her cellar. She’d forgotten that morning, and if they went too long untended, they were prone to develop wood sprite infestations. That was all.
*****
She failed to accomplish anything that day. It was the funniest thing - when she tried to refresh the wood sprite repellant enchantments, she just completely blanked on the right ley focii to invoke. She tried to consult a text, but she couldn’t make head nor tail of it. It was hopelessly vague and read like it had been poorly translated from some foreign language. She checked the cover. The author’s name was Comet Tail. That… sounded like an Equestrian name? Must’ve been born to immigrants, or maybe this is an old edition? I should investigate further.
It was strange, though; this was the first time that one of the books Celestia had assigned to her had been so useless.
She struggled for several hours, making no real progress, before she abandoned her effort.
*****
She was exhausted, in every sense of the word, so she fell into her bed. It felt good to close her eyes, to let her neck muscles relax on her pillow. She lay for minutes, sure she would fall into the peace of sleep any moment. She didn’t.
Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she didn’t know why. The constant thumping shook the sleep out of her eyes, leaving them dry and empty. When she opened them the air of the room sucked the moisture out of them, and tore her body’s heat away, so she kept them closed. Her mind was afire with thoughts.
She endlessly repeated the scene of the day’s tea, going over each word spoken. How could she have misinterpreted the conversation so much? How could she have thought that Rarity was reciprocating her longing glances? But more than anything else, why didn’t she do anything? Was there something she could’ve said to change the course of events? There had to have been! What if she had directly confessed her love? Rarity would have been taken aback, certainly. She probably wouldn’t have been able to give an immediate answer. She would’ve had to think about it. That would’ve bought her some time. How could she have been so stupid? Why had she just run away? That might have been her only chance to be happy, because how could she be without Rarity?
Twilight’s breath came ragged and heavy. She was clutching her pillow. Her eyes were still squeezed shut. She tried to blank her mind. She succeeded at first, but other thoughts crept in. Other conversations. She thought of her meeting with Rainbow Dash, of how awkward she’d been. She could think of a dozen different ways that would’ve been more polite. What could Rainbow Dash possibly think about her now? She’d acted completely juvenile and tactless, and never thought things through. Her shout, Are you gay?! rang in her ears, again and again. How could she have been so stupid? In this new light, she realized that Rainbow wasn’t being kind, she was being patronizing. Sarcastic, even. She vividly recalled the beleaguered look Dash wore as she first invited her in, as if she felt obligated to help her but had no real desire to. Twilight gave herself another mental kick. How could she have been so selfish? What had she ever done for Rainbow? How could she have just shown up on her doorstep and expected her to solve her problems? She tossed and turned with growing intensity.
She was acutely aware of the time. It was past midnight, then. Her schedule started tomorrow morning at eight. She’d missed her chance at an eight-hour sleep. Her entire day would be ruined. She’d be tired and unable to concentrate. At this point, she should really just wait until two. That way she could still get six hours. Three sleep cycles would be better than three and a half. With this justification, she turned on her light and began to read again.
*****
Twilight’s bedside clock sounded its alarm. She slowly opened her eyes. The clock read seven o’clock in the morning, bright and early. She tried to stand, but her legs felt stiff and weak.
Seven is too early to be awake, thought Twilight, and I don’t have anything scheduled until eight anyway. She stopped the alarm and pulled the minute hand back down to the bottom of the clock before drifting back to sleep.
*****
Twilight’s bedside clock sounded its alarm. She opened her eyes. The clock read seven o’clock in the morning, bright and early. That means it’s seven thirty now. I’ve got nothing until eight.
She stopped the alarm, pulled the minute hand back down to the bottom of the clock, then went back to sleep.
*****
Twilight’s bedside clock sounded its alarm. She opened her eyes. The clock read seven o’clock in the morning, bright and early. It’s eight. I should be up now, I need to practice levitation spells at eight thirty and I can never focus if I don’t get a good breakfast, but… I’m not that hungry. I’m sure I’ll be fine.
She stopped the alarm, pulled the minute hand back down to the bottom of the clock, then went back to sleep.
*****
Twilight’s bedside clock sounded its alarm. She didn’t bother opening her eyes, but the clock would read seven o’clock in the morning, bright and early. How many times have I done this? Maybe four? That would mean it’s nine. It’s too late for me to get good levitation practice in, and I don’t need to study botany until nine thirty. I can sleep for thirty more minutes.
She stopped the alarm, pulled the minute hand back down to the bottom of the clock, then went back to sleep.
*****
Twilight awoke to the sound of loud knocking at her front door. She opened her eyes. The clock read six forty-five in the morning, bright and early. She glared at it. You owe me fifteen minutes, clock.
The knocking continued. She heard a voice call, “Twilight! I know you’re here!” It was Rainbow Dash. “You never go anywhere on Tuesday afternoons! Put away your egghead homework and talk to me! I need details, girl! What happened?”
Hardly afternoon, Twilight thought. It was ten or eleven at the latest. But conversation was the last thing she wanted, and she couldn’t get back to sleep with all this noise. So she cast a muffling spell over the building, and, for good measure, a magical barrier. She didn’t want to be disturbed.
She shoved her face back into her pillow, and slept once more.
Fifteen minutes later, her alarm sounded. She didn’t even open her eyes. With a brief flash and a slight zap, there was a pile of ashes where her clock had once stood. She went back to sleep.
*****
A couple of hours later, she finally got out of bed. She crawled into the shower and stood under the stream for a few minutes, not bothering to deal with soap or shampoo. She dried off before half-walking, half-stumbling down the stairs. Her back was sore, her legs were stiff. Her entire torso felt heavy and cold.
Entering the kitchen, she fumbled a piece of bread into the toaster. Soon, her toast popped out. She took a bite. It was bland. She looked at it with mild revulsion before throwing the rest away, uneaten. She had work to do.
*****
She stared at her copy of Basic Principles of Botanical Prestidigitations, which lay open on the hard, wooden floor in front of her. She hadn’t turned a page in hours; she couldn’t focus on anything but her right hoof, which was uncomfortable in a way she couldn’t quite describe. It felt warm and loose, but there was a certain pressure on her joints. She rotated them erratically, trying to scratch the itch. She knew the diagnosis, but she didn’t like it. Her leg ached for a walk. But she was already tired, and it was cold outside. In fact, she noticed, it was cold inside as well. She suddenly felt the weight of her torso on the wood, the pressure she was putting on her ribs. She rolled over, but that just shifted the problem. There was only one solution, really.
She crawled back into bed. She didn’t want to sleep, she knew she had more important things to do. But her bed was soft and warm. She felt safe in it, like nothing could reach her there. The twitching in her muscles didn’t go away, but now, at least, her weight was supported evenly on the mattress. It was a marginal improvement, but an improvement nonetheless. It was hard for her to remember why she left her bed in the first place. Why would she?
She didn’t sleep, not at first. She lay under the covers, revelling in the sensation of warmth on her body, and the relaxation of her spine. She couldn’t believe how tense she’d been, ever since Rarity…
The illusion broke. Not that of the bed’s relative safety, of that she was still certain. Instead, she lost the sensation of warmth. Every exposed part of her body felt like ice, so she dug deeper. When she was encapsulated by the stifling comforter, she felt better. Not good, but better. She rolled herself into a ball, not daring to look out from beneath the blanket. Her breath was ragged, and her eyes were burning. Instinctively, she clutched the bunched-up blanket to her body. She could almost fool herself into thinking it was a pony she was holding. She really tried to believe it, tried to feel Rarity’s soft heartbeat, to smell her favorite shampoo. She almost could.
It was in this state that she eventually lost consciousness, some hours later.
*****
Her sleep, once rigidly scheduled and mechanical, became erratic, fluid. She’d sleep for two hours or sixteen, in the night, morning, or day. The only things that didn’t change were the disappointment on waking, and the subsequent attempt to force herself back into her dreams.
She had never been much of a dreamer before, and that used to disappoint her. Now she didn’t know what she had hoped for. Her dreams were confusing: vivid and mundane, yet a little odd and usually featuring her own mistakes. Sometimes she knew she was dreaming, somewhere in the back of her mind, and thus wasn’t affected. Other times she was so upset by her imagined failures that she woke up in tears, out of breath.
The most common factor in her dreams was tardiness. She dreamt that she had slept through an appointment, or forgot an assignment for Celestia. It didn’t help that both events had become common. Her sense of time skewed dramatically; she often woke, disoriented, in the small hours of the morning, after dreaming that it was the early afternoon. Her perception of reality was fuzzy, and she half expected to wake up from her daily life.
She rarely left the library, and when she did it was always for necessities. She waited until it was late at night or early in the morning, so she could be alone on the streets, and quickly gathered her groceries before hurrying home. But she always stopped on the way back to the library at Bon Bon’s Confectionary. She liked sweet things. She knew it was irresponsible. She could barely afford food, let alone the luxury of candy, and her savings dwindled. When they ran out, she stopped buying produce before she stopped buying candy.
At the same time, she developed another habit: Whenever she was nervous or uncomfortable, she would push the frog of one of her hooves hard into the wall surrounding it. It hurt, but not in a bad way. She couldn’t quite describe the feeling, but it was a kind of sharp warmth that spread through her hoof. It occupied her whole thought, and when she relieved the pressure, it left a sort of vacuum in her mind and in her nerves. Her hoof grew colder, and felt almost numb, fuzzy. Starting again threw it back into sharp relief. True, it was all she could focus on, but at least she was focusing on something. If she wasn’t feeling this pain, she’d often be feeling nothing, and that was somehow worse. Pain was a feeling, and without feelings, she had trouble convincing herself that she was alive, and not just a corpse waiting to die.
She had built her life on a dream, a house of cards focused on Rarity, and now, without her, she had nothing left. No reason to study, no reason to eat, no reason to get out of bed. So, she didn’t. She wasted weeks away.
*****
Rainbow Dash walked through the door of Sugarcube Corner, rubbing a sore wing. Pinkie Pie was working the counter. She waved, “Hi, Dashie! You’re right on time, I was just about to take a break! Can I get you something?”
“Just some water, thanks.”
"Okay, two of my tangiest pink lemonades, coming right up!”
“Wait, Pinkie, I sai-” Rainbow tried to interject, but Pinkie had already disappeared into the back. She sighed and sat down at a corner table.
Moments later, Pinkie emerged bearing a tray with two glasses of lemonade.
“What’s this about?” Rainbow asked.
“I know you too well, Dashie. You never want water. So either it was a temporary insanity, in which case this, the sourest lemonade I could devise, would knock you back to your senses, or you’ve got something weighing on you, and you need all the sugar you can get!”
Rainbow snorted in a single laugh, and accepted the glass. She took a long gulp. It was the best lemonade she’d ever tasted. It always was. “Thanks, Pinkie.”
She returned a smile. “So what’s up?”
Rainbow looked out the window for several seconds before answering, “Have you seen Twilight lately?”
Pinkie thought for a moment. “Hmm… Come to think of it, not since the Monday three Thursdays before last Friday.”
All she got was a blank stare.
“Well, obviously, it was on a Monday because she mentioned seeing Lyra on her way to see me, and Lyra only plays on Stirrup Street on Mondays and it was three Thursdays ago because the lecture Twilight gave me about Newtonian motion that day improved my average bowling score by three-fifths of a pin per frame and-”
“Pinkie.”
“Mm?”
“I think Twilight’s having a really bad time.”
“Oh.”
“I think Rarity might have said something bad to her, and she might have taken it really hard.”
“Why would she do that? Rarity’s one of the nicest ponies I know!”
“I… It’s just a hunch, Pinkie. Anyway, I think Twilight really needs my help, but she won’t open her door and I think she put up some kind of magical shield, I can’t break in like I usually can.”
Pinkie raised an eyebrow.
“I need milk in the mornings and mine always goes bad, okay?”
Pinkie raised two more eyebrows.
“Listen, the way I make protein shakes isn’t the issue here! We need to find a way to get into Twilight’s library.”
“Hmm.” Pinkie rubbed her chin. “A magic shield, you say? All the way around the library?”
“Yeah. As strong as I’ve ever seen. She must’ve picked up some tips from her brother.”
“You know, Dashie, some might call you the strongest flier in Equestria. Do you want to find out what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?”
“You want me to break through it? No way! I’d need to have Rainboom levels of speed, there’s no way I could accelerate that much in city limits! I don’t have enough room! Way too many pegasi, not to mention buildings around!”
“Rainbow Dash? Bring me the party cannon.”
“... What? It’s your cannon. I don’t even know where it is!”
“BRING IT TO ME.”
*****
Twilight hadn’t gotten out of bed for… How long had it been? Two days? Three? She wasn’t sure. She’d thought that she would have been forced out by hunger by now, but she felt fine, really. And besides, slowly withering to death in her bed had a certain appeal. It would be easy, it would be warm. There were worse fates. She rolled over, trying to find a more comfortable position. Her comforter was slightly damp, as were her sheets. She hadn’t expected that, but it made sense considering the number of times she’d woken up sweating. And it’s not like she’d been doing laundry lately. It wasn’t too uncomfortable, though, and she was still warm. The only thing she wanted now was somepony to hold her, but she knew that was an unattainable fantasy. Maybe I’ll eat tomorrow, she thought, closing her eyes, drifting off once more.
She was rudely awakened some time later by the sound of fanfare and party crackers, then a scream, then an explosion, then a CRASH as the wall of her room blew open in a shower of splinters and rainbow light. Something heavy landed on her like a bag of sand.
Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the new light from outside. She saw Rainbow Dash laying on top of her, gently shaking confetti out of her rustled mane. Dash’s arms were propped on either side of Twilight, and their pelvises were dangerously near each other. Twilight couldn’t help it. She blushed hard, and then, embarrassed, harder.
“Yeah, I have that effect on a lot of ponies,” Dash said with a smirk.
That was too much. Twilight threw a hoof into her jaw as hard as she could. Rainbow went down to the floor and rolled into a wall. Twilight leapt to her feet and screamed, her voice cracking from lack of use, “I didn’t ask to be this way, you know, and you’ve done nothing but hurt! Get. OUT!” A tear slid down her cheek.
Dash didn’t move. She lay face down on the floor, clutching her mouth.
Twilight stepped down from the bed, her horn glowing, every step rocked by the sharp intakes of breath that accompanied her tears. “I’m not g-going to ask you t-twice.”
Dash still didn’t look up, but she responded, softly. “You’re right, and I’m sorry.”
“I don’t n-need your a-apologies. Just l-leave me a-alone.”
Dash finally locked eyes with her. Twilight’s magic faltered. There was just too much raw empathy there. Now she looked at the ground, as Rainbow gingerly rose to her feet. “I don’t know what happened with Rarity, but it must’ve sucked. And that sucks, Twilight, it really does.”
“Go a-away,” Twilight lost her balance and fell back onto the bed.
“Because sometimes bad things happen, and it’s nobody’s fault, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.”
Twilight buried her face in her pillow.
“But we just need to do the best we can with what we have. We can’t let it stop us, because…” Her voice trailed off.
Twilight looked up, her eyes almost pleading. “Why not?”
“I… I don’t know. But we just can’t! Because it’s all we’ve got!” She slammed her hoof into the floor. “You didn’t get what you wanted this time. You might not get what you want next time. Trust me, I know what that’s like. But that trying is what we call ‘living’, Twilight. And if you stop trying to be happy, you never will be. You’ll die without knowing what it could have been. Is that really what you want?”
“I don’t want anything. I don’t want to live. I just want to sleep.” Tears stained her face.
“You- You have to want something. That can’t be true, Twilight!”
“Yes it is! Every time I try for something I end up worse off than before! I’m better off staying in bed, I can’t ruin things from here!” Her voice grew much quieter. “I can’t hope from here.”
Dash stared at her. It was all she could think to do. How was she supposed to respond to that?
Twilight had expended all of her energy. She was limp in her bed. “I’m sorry for making you worry about me. But please leave me alone.”
Dash was in a daze. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, that her friend really thought like that. She didn’t know what to do, so by default she followed her instructions. She slowly walked to the door and turned the knob - then stopped, standing in the open doorway for what seemed like an eternity. She couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t do all she could to help. She sprinted back to the bed and dove onto Twilight, clutching her to her chest. Twilight hung like a ragdoll, and now it was Rainbow who was crying.
They stayed like that for hours.
*****
When Twilight awoke, Rainbow was asleep, still holding her. She felt a sense of peace and warmth that she hadn’t felt for years. She didn’t want to move, so she didn’t. She revelled in the feeling. She felt good for the first time in a long time.
After some amount of time passed, Rainbow began to stir. Twilight rolled over to watch her face-to-face. Dash yawned prodigiously, then blearily opened her eyes. She awoke with a start, fixing her gaze on a point behind Twilight, her mouth hanging open. Twilight looked over to see her wall torn completely asunder, debris littering the ground below. She looked back to Dash to see her stammer, “I, uh, I can fix that.”
It all came together at that moment, the new day’s sun playing on Rainbow’s face, the messy bedhead hanging over her soft violet eyes, combined with the cutest expression. Twilight couldn’t resist pulling her close, closing her eyes, and leaning in for a kiss.
She was stopped by a gentle hoof on her chin.
“It’s been an emotional night for both of us, Twi.” Dash extricated herself carefully from her embrace. “And I really don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”
Twilight could see the sense she was making, but Rainbow just looked so… so warm. She tried again to pull her close, but Rainbow parried her advance once more. “I’m serious, Twilight. You’re in no state to make this kind of decision. Listen, I’m gonna go get us some breakfast. You stay right here.” She climbed out of bed and leapt out of the hole in the wall.
Twilight laid back. Her chest was sore, like an old wound just after applying a new dose of ointment, or a broken bone now set.
She looked out her new window over Ponyville. It was early February. Off in the distance, she could see heavy storm clouds gathering, but she also saw the sun barely shining through the cracks between some nearer clouds. She wasn’t sure what that meant.
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