//------------------------------//
// Tired 
// Story: The Times They Are A Changeling 
// by Super Trampoline 
//------------------------------//

"I'm tired."

"Do you need some lovin' touchin' squeezin'?"

"I swear to Khepri if I have to listen to that damn Journey Destination song one more time, I will suck your vital organs out through your nasal cavity."

"Yeesh! 

"Look, remember that concert I took you to that weirded even you, Mr. 'I like all kinds of music' out?"

"Yeah. It was two hours of indeterminate buzzing."

"Well, to me, that was music. I, and most changelings in fact, care little for the--to my ears at least--infantile and simplistic rigid major and minor construction of equine pop."

"Well, excuse me for not being hip enough."

"You are forgiven. I'm still tired though."

"Alright, let me try again. Do you want to, I don't know, cuddle or make out or something?"

"You could make me warm soup."

"Pardon?"

"Love is more than just tangential to reproduction and, um, I guess foreplay. Physical affection. That's the term I'm looking for."

"True, but I thought that, when extracted willingly, such physical activities are most satisfying."

"Do you eat the same meal every day, Clair?"

"Well, no."

"Exactly. I've been reading Cadance's new book, like my therapist told me to. I'm actually appreciating it a lot more than I expected. I thought it would all be stuff I already knew, and to a large extent it is, but she also points out a lot of little nuances. Ones of those is love languages."

"I've heard of the term before. Care to elaborate?"

"Sure. I'd love to over some hot soup. Make me some damned soup, please."

"Of course, of course. What flavor would you like? Looks like we've got a can of cream of mushroom--"

"Homemade, actually."

"But... okay. I can do that. What would you like in it, honey?"

"Surprise me. But there's one ingredient you must include."

"And what would that be?"

"Love."