//------------------------------//
// Analyze Results, Error Analysis & Conclusion 
// Story: The Sunlight Project 
// by Space Jazz 
//------------------------------//

Citrus—lemons, to be exact. The room was bathed with the overwhelming scent. That was the first sensation I felt when my consciousness came back. I forced my eyes open and was treated to a blindingly white room. Everything was hazy, which wasn't much of a surprise. The impact probably knocked me unconscious, possibly even knocking off my contacts.

My hand wandered around, feeling for the lenses that were probably just out of reach. Somehow despite my blindness, I still was able to make out a general image of the room.

I was in a hospital room, lying down on a cot.

My eyes darted around the room, eventually landing on a familiar yellowish figure next to me.

It was her, the cause of all this... experimenting? I didn't even know what to call it anymore.

My focus adjusted, only slightly, though, and I was able to get a closer view of her. Still no specific details, but her hair was a mess, that much I could tell.

There was an audible sigh before my vision immediately began to clear, feeling the cold of my glasses as it came into contact with the bridge of my nose.

She was frowning, not really angry, just tired. Disappointed? I didn't know. I couldn't really read people that well.

"Hey, Twilight," Sunset said weakly, flashing a halfhearted smile. "You're up."

'Hi," I croaked, forcing out the words.

She bent over, adjusting my crooked glasses. "I saw your notes." Her voice was plain, yet confrontational. I groaned in response, earning a chuckle from Sunset as she slumped down onto a stool. Without saying much else, she motioned towards my backpack, where a crumpled pile of papers sat. Subconsciously, a weight fell off my shoulders. The entire thesis wasn't in the backpack, luckily, but the itinerary and the detailed plan to ask Sunset out were.

Sighing, she placed her hands on her head and massaged her temples in a slow, rhythmic fashion.

"Did you like them?" I joked, knowing how odd the notes must have looked to her. Though, I probably came off as insane for even asking that.

"Twilight, I..." Sunset trailed off. "I don't know what to think. I thought it was cute at first, but..."

I winced. "You knew?"

"Of course, I knew, Twilight. Everyone knew."

"Since when?"

"Me or the universe?"

I swallowed my breath. It was a joke, clearly, but it kind of stung to just have it all out there.

"You," I answered, stating the obvious.

Sunset sighed, tugging at her curly hair for what I assumed was moral support. "I had my suspicions for a while, but I guess it started the day Pinkie Pie threw that party for Maud."

That early? Oh jeez. "How?"

"You jumped at the chance to set up decorations after I volunteered. Then later that day, you asked if I'd be willing to date a girl. It wasn't solid, but I noticed how you kinda seemed to... flock towards me. Of course, I didn't know for sure until I saw all... this."

Unable to respond, I let the silence hang in the air. She wasn't mad as far as I could tell, but there was a slight coldness in her voice. It wasn't until she brought her hands down that I noticed the off-color bruises on her arms.

"Sunset!" I cried, nearly spilling over the medical bed. "Are you okay!?"

I couldn't believe how selfish I was being. Sunset was in pain, and I was the one in the cot, getting the medical attention.

"I should be the one asking you that." She pointed at my foot, which I just now noticed had a white cast wrapped around the ankle.

"Oh."

Sunset sighed, before reaching into her bag, "Unfortunately, Mr. Stuffed Bear didn't survive." Stifling a morbid chuckle, she held up the prize I had won her just hours earlier. It was a barely recognizable mass of white fluff and fabric. "Rest in peace. We hardly knew ye. Gone before I could give him a real name."

The conversation seemed to die there, fading away as neither of us had much to say. Instead, we just looked at each other and refused to bring up the elephant in the room again. I knew we would have to talk about it at some point, but I didn't expect it to be this hard. It would have been a nobler thing to bring it up myself and get it out the way, but I couldn't do anything but lie there helplessly.

If I had my way, I would have just disappeared into nothing or teleported out the room, but I didn't have the luxury of magic like my Equestrian counterpart. Instead, I was trapped in the room with Sunset, and she knew. Oh gosh, she knew. She knew. My stomach lurched in horror at the full realization.

If anything, I just wanted Sunset to stop looking at me.

"How about them Clydesdales?" I asked, breaking the silence.

Sunset scoffed. "Twilight..."

"I know," I said. "I'm sorry."

She looked down at her lap, sighing as she kneaded her hands into her legs. "Remember what I told you back at Pinkie's party?"

I shook my head.

"I said something about confidence," Sunset continued. "Do you remember that?"

The word "confidence" immediately rang a bell. It would have been easy to lie and shake my head again, but I couldn't bring myself to.

Sunset sighed, most likely due to the one-sided conversation, "'A little confidence goes a long way,' remember?"

"Yes," I forced out.

The silence made itself known again. Most of it could be pointed in my direction. My one-word answers were the obvious cause of the dead conversation. For one minute at the very least, I wanted to know what was going on in Sunset's head. Then I would be able to navigate through this mental minefield.

It would have made things easier if I could just communicate. Instead, shrinking away from confrontation seemed like the only acceptable course of action.

"All you had to do was ask," she spoke up.

"What?"

"You heard me," Sunset called out.

She wasn't wrong. I knew exactly what she meant. All of this was my fault.

Sunset laughed. It was quiet, but it was a laugh nonetheless. The sudden shift in tone was enough to get me to join in. For once in the past few days, I got a chance to just lie down and reflect on what I have been doing for the past two weeks.

"You're not mad?" I asked, already preemptively flinching.

"Of course not. I should have expected some complicated plan from you. Just please tell me this is the worst of it," Sunset pleaded lightly. "I don't even want to know if you stole a lock of my hair or anything."

"Nothing like that!" I protested. Though it was better to conceal the rest of the thesis paper. The last thing I wanted was for Sunset to stumble onto the rest of The Sunlight Project and to be scared away. "I just wanted to increase the odds of you saying yes."

"Well, it's a solid hypothesis," Sunset admitted. "Though the execution... not so much."

"I'll have to mention the extraneous circumstances in the error analysis," I commented, earning another laugh. "So does that mean—"

"No," Sunset answered curtly. "At least, not yet. I don't know if it's the adrenaline talking, but I'm willing to just sit on the idea for a couple of days and give you a few weeks to heal up before I make a decision."

"That's fair," I conceded. "I did nearly kill the both of us."

"There's that too," Sunset said. "Although, you're the one who took the most damage... so karma, I guess?"

“Since I'm here, I might as well be the first to sign your cast."

Without saying much else, she bent over and pulled a marker from my backpack. Smirking, she made her way to the foot of the hospital bed and began writing onto the cast. From what I could tell, her writing took up most of the sole, yet it was just out of my field of view. Holding back a chuckle, she turned to face me.

"I can't see what you wrote." I complained, leaning over to see what was on it.

"You're not supposed to," she said coyly. "Yet. I gotta go. The rest of the girls are here too, and your parents are coming in about half an hour, by the way."

As I watched her open the door, I impulsively yelled, "Wait!"

She stopped at the door, "Yes?"

Unable to stop myself, I began to talk without thinking.

"Can you at least tell me what you wrote? No specifics."

Chuckling, she answered, "Just a little note... and my phone number."

"When can I ask you out... for real this time?"

That felt amazing to just ask without any fear.

"I dunno," Sunset falsely droned before her face turned to a devilish grin. "Maybe text me and find out."

With that, she disappeared behind the door. Seconds later, most likely by Sunset's instruction, the rest of my friends flooded the room.

"Twi? Are ya okay, sugarcube?"

"Darling, we came as soon as we heard."

"You really goofed up, egghead."

"That's a real cool cast, Twilight! Can I sign it next?"

"Do you need anything? I can ask a nurse to bring you a better pillow."

"Hi, girls," I croaked, slumping back into my cot. "Yeah, I messed up, but it's all fine, I think."

I had no idea what to think. Luckily, all I had to do was just lie down and wait for my parents to check me out.

"Did you score a date with Sunset?" Rainbow asked.

"I honestly don't know."

"Well, the doctor said that you'll be out of the cast in about a month." Rarity spoke up, delivering a much needed bit of news. "It's only a small fracture, apparently."

"That's good, at least." I paused for a second, not really knowing what to say. "So... would any of you care to sign my cast?"

There was a chorus of approval after my suggestion. One by one, the group all took turns writing down their names on the cast with some making more elaborate signatures than others.

"Hey, egghead." Rainbow called, "Sunset Shimmer left you a little parting note."

"I know," I responded. "Does it say anything?"

"It says, 'Don't open 'til Hearth's Warming,'" Pinkie Pie said before erupting into a giggling fit.

"Very funny," I said. "Seriously."

"We are being serious," Fluttershy defended. "That's when the doctor said you can get it removed, right?"

Of course I had to fall for a girl that had a sense of humor.

"She wrote her phone number on there, too," Applejack spoke up. "Want us to read you that?"

I thought about it for a few seconds before remembering the conversation I had with Sunset Shimmer.

"No thanks," I answered. "I can wait."