//------------------------------// // Last Mistake [Romance/Drama/Sad - Incomplete] // Story: Chrome's Scrap Folder // by Monochromatic //------------------------------// Forever was the promise Rarity made to Twilight that night under the twinkling stars; forever was the lie Rarity had to face when Twilight broke up with her under the scorching July sun; forever was the amount of time that blood would drip down Rarity’s cracked heart as she heard a teary, blissfully happy Twilight whisper ‘I do’ to somepony else. We tried to take it slow, but no It wasn't an option in our state of mind Anything that was left was left behind Several knocks at Rarity's door in the middle of the night woke her up. She knew who it was before she had even come down to open the door. Another fight between Ponyville's princess and the love of her life, no doubt. Minutes later, and after taking a deep breath, Rarity opened the door and lo and behold, her prediction had been correct: there was Twilight, looking down at the floor with reddened eyes and a most pitiful expression. Another night of consoling Twilight; another night of watching the alicorn fall back in love with the one who'd hurt her; and another night of sleeping in the spare room, knowing morning would come, and Twilight would run off to somepony else. She wasn't able to hold back a soft sigh. "I'm sorry, Rarity." Sorry? Sorry for what? For always coming to Carousel Boutique when the lights of Pinkie's room in Sugarcube Corner were always lit until early morning? Sorry for hurting her by knowingly seeking her comfort, knowing the unicorn would never turn her away? After all, when Rarity had said 'forever' that night long ago, Twilight knew it hadn't been a lie. Time took its toll and we lost any thought of control We once had before closing the door This was going to be our last mistake One last night. This is the last time, she thought to herself, watching as Carousel Boutique appeared in the distance. Tears stung at her eyes, but the thought of seeing Rarity helped ease them. The sight of Rarity always helped, every single time she came running after a fight, every single night she lied to herself by thinking: this is the last time. In the distance, she noticed a light coming from one of the top floors of Sugarcube Corner. It was amazing how late Pinkie went to bed almost every night. These were the silly thoughts that seeped into Twilight’s mind as she tried forgetting the argument and focused on the path towards the Boutique. Before she even realized it, she’d reached her destination. Every single light inside the building was turned off, and though she knew Rarity had gone to bed already, she also knew the unicorn would never turn her back on helping a… a friend. Because she was that kind and generous with her time, certainly nothing more. One last night. Three knocks at the door. Twilight waited, and waited, and waited. Minutes ticked by, and she wondered if perhaps Rarity hadn’t heard her. The unicorn had been working hard with commissions the past few days, and perhaps she had overworked herself. A thousand million explanations swished through her mind, yet not a single one perhaps considered her three knocks had been ignored. She simply stood there, coming up with one reason after another, blissfully unaware of the unicorn sitting on the other side, forehead pressed against the door and wanting to do anything else but go through another night of consoling the alicorn. But she did. Moments later, the door swung open and there was Rarity, her expression immediately turning into one of concern. For a moment, Twilight faltered and stepped back, guilt seeping in her heart like pain seeped into Rarity's. Why am I doing this? To me? To her? Why? Another night, Rarity thought, ushering in her friend with comforting coos and gentle hugs. Another damned night, she thought, mechanically preparing tea and nodding along to Twilight's tale of woe, occasionally offering rehearsed and empty words of comforts she took out from her mental stash. One, two, three hours went by, and a quarter to three came by. Twilight sighed, rubbing her eyes with her hoof and staring at her reflection in her empty tea cup. "Thanks for listening, Rarity,” she said, genuinely, earnestly, hurtfully. Like a dagger through Rarity’s heart, like a spell that made the unicorn choke yet kept her alive enough to continue, to forget, and to again yield, give in, masochistically so to Twilight’s selfish pleas for help. “It’s alright,” Rarity said, lied, as she always did, as she always will as long as the beatings of her heart belonged to Twilight. But for that night, stirring her tea in a mechanical tiring motion, she couldn’t help herself, couldn’t stop herself from asking, a shot at ending the torture they were tangled in: “Have you noticed Pinkie Pie never sleeps?” Twilight nodded, lifting the teapot and serving herself some more. “Yeah, the lights of her room are always lit until like four in the morning.” Silence settled itself, only the clink of Rarity’s spoon against her cup still present, until Rarity spoke again, taking out the dagger in her heart and brandishing it at her opponent and companion in the miserable game of love. “Then why do you always come here?” Twilight didn’t know what to say. She just stared at the unicorn, the blood draining from her face, Rarity still stirring her tea without daring to look up. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you hate me, Twilight,” she said, quietly, viciously, gently. “Coming here every single time. Why?” She finally looked up. “Are you truly that cruel?” Twilight's eyes watered, and it hurt that the sight of it still killed Rarity. "Ra-Rarity, I… I don't know?" Rarity laughed bitterly, a soft melody which she dearly hoped would impale itself in Twilight's heart and twist it like Twilight had twisted hers. "This is the last time I'll open the door," she said, looking down at her tea and stirring, stirring, stirring because she couldn't bear look up. Before Twilight could reply, she laughed again. A much softer, gentler laugh, because she was so stupid, wasn't she? She was so completely and totally idiotic, and she knew it. "I say that, and I wish I believed it. Isn't tragic to know that even if you came knocking again, I'd open the door every single damned time?" "I don't love you." Rarity finally looked up, as if Twilight's crushing statement would finally set her free, but oh, how wrong she was. There was the Princess of friendship, her big eyes filled with tears as she shook her head. It was as if she were desperately trying to convince herself of her own words. "I'm sorry," she choked out, and Rarity merely looked down at her tea. Stirr, stirr, stirr. You should be, Rarity wanted to say. You should be sorry for doing this to me over, and over, and over, and over again. "I know," she replied instead. "I can't, Ra-Rarity. I… I married him, and I left you for him." The tears rolled down her cheeks as she tried to form coherent sentences while Rarity continued her senseless motions, stirring a tea that had long ago turned cold. "I never asked you to," Rarity pointed out. "I don't have the right." And now the stirring stopped, Rarity's eyes growing wide. Slowly, she looked up, taking the spoon out of the cup, delicately placing it on the small plate, and making sure to lace every word with anger as she said, "The right?" Twilight shook her head, chest raising and lowering with every desperately contained sob, traces of which seeped through the cracks in her voice. "I gave you up. I don't have the right to love you or want you back after what I did." "How curious of you to say that," Rarity replied at length. "You say that, and yet you feel entitled enough to come here and pour your woes about him to me? You don't have the right to love me, but you consider you have the right to come in here and time and time again prevent my heart from healing from you? What a peculiar way of thinking, truly." "Rarity, I—" Rarity got up, trotting past Twilight, using no words to explain her actions even when Twilight called her name. Instead, she allowed the alicorn to follow her into the main room, and watch as she wordlessly opened the front door. "Pinkie Pie's awake," Rarity said, humorlessly. "I'm certain she has a spare bed." "No," Twilight said, as if she had a right to do so, and taking a step back as if she were entitled to protest. "D-don't—" "Yes," Rarity said. "I no longer have the strength or interest in humoring your desires to use me as a plaything or friend for when you need to be consoled. Yes, because that's clearly the only reason you come here," she said, and it took so much of her to keep her voice steady, to mend the cracks in her voice before they even had a chance of showing up. "Please leave, Twilight."