The sounds of the sewing machine busy at work was like music to Rarity’s ears. She hummed quietly as she fiddled with the device, easing the fabric on the pedestal. The machine quickly lay down the thread, creating a slightly diagonal line. Rarity stopped the machine, levitating the cloth over to the table where she could actually thread it. She brought over her golden spool, and used her horn to levitate a needle.
As she moved the needle through the fabric, her thoughts drifted back to what her friends had all been saying. They encouraged her to come out and say the truth to Spike; and while she knew they were right, she still felt unsure. The fact that Spike was still a child had to be taken into account; he could not possibly understand immediately what Rarity meant. If Sweetie Belle’s behavior around a certain colt named Button Mash could show anything, it was that kids did not truly understand the inner workings of love.
Love, she mused. Such a wonderous thing. Like music, really. When two notes come together, they can create something truly breathtaking, wonderful and exhilarating. Much is the same when two ponies come together. They have to connect, on both sides, in order to create something harmonious.
And yet, like music, not all notes—or ponies—can come together. One note may sound fine; but the other may not work well with it. It creates something that sounds sour; only those with limited knowledge could possibly say it sounds fine.
A crush is little more than a test symphony. It can be honored, yes, but in time, it must be willing to improve. It is vital that the symphony—if the owner wishes it—become something much more, perhaps something even greater. But, in order for that to happen, the orchestrator must work with his players and music writers. You cannot have a sweeping orchestral arrangement without all three.
And you can’t have love, when only one side feels it.
She frowned, pausing. She did not love Spike; at least, not as anything more than a brother. She knew that; everypony knew that. Yet she still could not bring herself to talk to him, to be honest with him.
For what reason could she not? Was it because she was afraid? Surely the dragon’s friendship with her did not mean that much—
She shook her head. Of course it meant that much. The problem was, she was dealing with highly unstable emotions. Love and crushes, care and friendship; these concepts, while not new, never were easy. Yet they were as vital to the body as much as food and shelter were.
So, her friendship with Spike was important. That was simple. What she did with that friendship, was not.
Would telling Spike cost her his friendship? Perhaps. Spike, normally levelheaded, was still a kid. And a kid was still growing, maturing, not fully understanding the world around him. What he saw in this world would vary in understanding from an adult’s. The things that could not be seen—like love, and friendship—could be more easily grasped by adults than a child.
Spike’s love for Rarity was fragile; and though she enjoyed his company, and his constant desire to help her, she knew that it was far too complex for any child to handle.
She gave a frustrated sigh, placing the fabric away. That amount of ruminating had done little than to confuse her even further. She so badly wanted to tell him. Her very soul cried out to be released, to let the dragon know what she truly felt; and yet, she could not. Why she couldn’t, she did not understand.
Why is love still so hard to understand? At what point does one draw the line between caring and loving? Is there even such a line? Is not care another aspect of love?
Spike has puppy love for me; I have caring love for him. That is where our relationship diverts; yet, he can’t seem to see that, and I can’t bring myself to say it.
She groaned, placing her head in between her hooves. Her mind ran in circles, asking the same question over and over again:
What do I do?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Expecting a customer, she called, “Come in!”
A well-dressed stallion unicorn, in a slate tuxedo with a cream dress shirt and navy tie, trotted in. He seemed a bit nervous, but he managed to give Rarity a smile, which she returned.
“Oh, hello, sir!” she said. “What could I do for you today?”
“I have a request, for a particular dress,” the stallion said, walking over to the unicorn. He began describing the size and colors of the dress. “It’s for my marefriend, you see,” he explained, a bit excited. “It’s her birthday in a few days.”
“Oh, how nice!” complimented Rarity, smiling. “I’ll get right to work on it. May I have your name, please?”
“Storm Shine. Thank you, Miss Rarity!” he said, giving her a genuine smile.
He turned to walk about, but something fell out of his pocket. He yelped in surprise! Rarity saw this and lit her horn, catching the item before it hit the ground.
“Phew!” she breathed. “That was close!” The item was a small, white box, about her hoof size. “Er… what is it?” she asked.
“Oh! Um, well,” he answered, walking over. “Well, I guess since you are making my dress, and since you sort of saved this from breaking…” He winked at her. “Why don’t you take a peek?”
“A peek? Are you sure?” He nodded. She carefully removed the lid and gasped at what she saw.
Inside was a diamond-encrusted ring, with golden edges and an opal underside. It shone brilliantly in the morning sun. As she tilted it slightly, she noticed how it acted as a prism; it reflected all the colors of the rainbow at various angles.
“Oh, my goodness,” she gasped, looking back up Storm Shine. “This is… for her, isn’t it?”
He nodded ecstatically. “Yep! I’m planning on proposing to her on her birthday!” He let out a happy sigh. “She always loved your work, you see. But she didn’t have the funds to buy one of your dresses. So, I saved up all my money and bought that ring and made sure to get her the dress she wants!” His smile fell slightly. “I hope she says yes… there are so many things to consider!”
Just like with me and Spike, Rarity found herself thinking. Her smile dropped, but she forced it back up again. “Oh, that’s just wonderful!” she gushed. “I’m sure she’ll love it—she’ll definitely say yes!”
Storm, however, had noticed the forcefulness of the smile. “Well, I appreciate your encouragement, Miss Rarity—”
“Please! Just call me Rarity, dear.”
“But… you seem… I don’t know… a bit anxious.”
“Anxious?” she sputtered. “Well-I-I’m just so ecstatic about hearing that you’re going to propose! And I want to make her dress look absolutely stunning!”
He stared at her for a few seconds, before shaking his head. “... It’s more than that, isn’t it?”
“What? No, why would there be anything else to it—”
“Is it that dragon fellow that we sometimes see with you in the Boutique?”
She winced. How could she have forgotten? She knew that nearly everypony knew about Spike’s crush; why had she figured that this stallion would not?
Nonetheless, she tried to save face. “P-please, Mr. Storm Shine, don’t be silly—”
“Rarity,” he said sternly. “I’m a professional psychologist as well as former Head of Police Investigations in Canterlot. I know you’re lying to me.”
She started, but finally sighed. She crossed her hooves and looked away. “Look, Mr. Storm. I appreciate your concern, but really, I’m alright—”
“Another lie.”
“I-I’ve already talked to my friends about this.”
“Then perhaps you need to talk to one more.” His gaze softened. “Rarity, please, just let me help. I know we just met and all, but I still want to help you.”
She sighed again. “… Very well. Where do I start?”
***
“I see… that Spike fellow certainly has quite the crush on you,” Storm said after Rarity finished telling him all that had happened. “But you don’t feel the same way?”
She shook her head. “I never have. He’s like a little brother to me; not some lover.” She sighed. “I just wish I could tell him how I feel.”
“So why don’t you?”
“I don’t know,” she confessed. “I mean, it should be that easy. It’s only five words: ‘I don’t like you, Spike.’ And yet… I just can’t find it within myself to break the poor dear’s heart.”
“But if you don’t, you’ll end up hurting him even more.” He leaned back slightly. “True love is felt on both sides. A one-sided love isn’t love at all.”
“I know, Storm,” she said, sighing. “But I just don’t think it’s a good idea, telling him the truth.”
“But do you feel it?”
She looked at him, confused. “What do you mean?”
“Do you feel that it would be the right thing to do?”
“Well… I guess… but I just don’t think—”
“See, there’s the problem.” He pointed a hoof at her. “You’re thinking about this way too much. Sometimes, you’ve gotta just feel something and know that it’s right.”
She still didn’t understand, as shown by her confused expression. He sighed, considering his next answer.
“… When I first met the unicorn that was going to be my marefriend,” he began, “I was nervous as heck. I wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. I was scared that she would reject my advances.
“To my surprise, she didn’t. She accepted, and we went on a date. Then another, then another, until we actually became a couple that lived and breathed and loved together. A few years passed, and I confessed to her that I was always nervous around her, afraid of messing up.
“And she would laugh, and say, ‘That’s because you were thinking too much, silly!’ And she was right; I had known her for years. I shouldn’t have to continuously think. I should feel. In times past, when I spoke to her, I spoke with my mind. I would have a preconceived question or prompt, with a preconceived response.
“On her birthday, though?” He glanced up at Rarity, the alabaster unicorn watching him with growing curiosity. “I’ll do something different. I’m going to speak with a different part of me. And it’s the same part I want you to speak with, when you tell Spike the truth.”
He reached over and placed a hoof on her chest, right where her heart was. She gasped at the sudden touch, but noticed the kind smile Storm had on his face.
“Don’t worry,” he said quietly. “Your heart is often smarter than your brain. It knows when something is the right thing to do.”
She nodded slowly, and he retracted the hoof. He stood, smiling down at Rarity. He turned to leave, but before he did, Rarity called out, “Thank you.”
He glanced over back at her, still smiling. “It was my pleasure. If my marefriend, Jade Sonnet, says yes—”
“When,” she automatically corrected, smiling.
His smile grew even bigger. “When she says yes, I’ll be sure to invite you to the wedding.”
He said farewell, and walked out, leaving Rarity with her thoughts.
Perhaps he is right, she thought. I’ve been spending so much time worrying about Spike. And while that’s okay, I have to consider myself as well.
Love is like music. It’s never easy to perform, and only certain types of it are appealing. And yet… even the kind of “love” I have for Spike—I love him as a brother, not as a lover—can create a beautiful symphony that will span the test of time.
My friendship with him will be tested, but I have to try. It’ll be better for the both of us.
She heard Storm singing quietly as he made his way back him:
“Don’t fall apart! Speak with your heart! And always take it with you back to the start!”
She found herself smiling. She couldn’t guarantee that Spike would understand; but she knew—she felt—that this was the right thing to do.