An Unnamed Love Story

by OCisbestpony

Chapter Seven: A Kind Yellow

Chapter 7:
A Kind Yellow

The intervening months lasted forever. It took them a long time before they could actually leave their beds. The crash had taken a great toll on them. According to the official report, neither of them had their seat-belts on, and they collided at nearly 50 miles per hour. Expectantly, they had been thrown from the truck and into the road. Luckily, there was no other traffic. Both had terrible injuries, but at least both had survived and were on the road to recovery. Thankfully, they both had a lot of moral support from both the school and their friends. Even AJ's family came to visit. Her older brother, who only answered to the name 'Big Mac' and her little sister (who also only answered to her family nick-name of 'Applebloom') moved in with her uncle to replace her and Fluttershy. Even though this kept them very busy, they visited as often as occasion would permit.

However, as it seemed that their world was slowly looking up, mine was slowly falling down. I went often to the hospital to visit them, and for the first long while I would spend much of the time telling Applejack that I didn't hold any hard feelings for her, almost ignoring Fluttershy entirely, but as the weeks rolled by, each visit became harder and harder. On the one hand, I wanted to see her more and more. On the other, it became harder and harder to see her. I struggled to understand why I felt this way. Why would I want to see Fluttershy so bad, but at the same time, want nothing to do with her? As I visited with her, it had become apparent that I was clearly developing feelings for her. Fight it as I might, I could not. Perhaps that was the reason I was so conflicted. I was fighting my feelings. I cherished those times when I would swing by their room, either by myself or with a group of friends. When I could, I would chat with her. Often the conversation was about animals, but that was fine with me. It was just good to see her be chipper.

This however did little to elevate my mood. As the days ran by, I found my life slowly unraveling. For some reason, my relationship with my co-workers was worsening. I found myself more and more at odds with my friends, and everywhere else I found myself more and more withdrawn than normal. In all, it seemed as though my life was falling to pieces. What made it all the more difficult, was the fact that I held it all in. Not that I didn't talk about it to others around me, but the feelings, the angst, the frustration; I refused to let it all go. I was slowly coming undone, and truth be told, I was actually largely unaware of it. I was suffering, and I had no idea why, until one fateful day...

It was a day much like any other. I had come into town several hours before class to visit the two girls for a little bit, after which I had planned on visiting a few other people. When I arrived at their room, Applejack was gone, but Fluttershy was sitting up in her bed, looking out of the window. It was open, with a slight breeze blowing in. She herself was wearing a long, soft yellow nightgown. Her long hair was loose and hanging all about her. I was surprised to see that it was so straight, considering that she still spent most her time in bed. For a second, I paused in the doorway. The scene seemed almost surreal. It was so peaceful.

It took several moments, but eventually, I took a step forward. I suppose she heard me as she suddenly turned her head and reflexively retreated slightly. At seeing it was someone she knew, she relaxed. I walked over to a nearby chair and took a seat. As I did so, I thought of the many people who had sat in this very chair over the past two and half months.

“Hey.” I started.

“Hi.” came the soft the reply that I had come to know her so well for.

“Where's Applejack?” I ventured, glancing at her bed.

“Oh.” she paused for a moment, “She's at physical therapy.”

Conversations with her always started off a little slow, but at least once they got going, it was fine. “How's that coming along? Last I heard you guys were only a few weeks from walking.”

“Well...” she said, slightly embarrassed.

Dang it. I spoke too soon. I supposed that she was embarrassed that she couldn't walk again just yet. “What I mean was I heard you guys were working on standing exercises.” I ventured, hoping that would seem less embarrassing.

She was quiet for a moment. It felt like a very, very long moment. “Yes. We've been working on standing. It's still kinda hard, and hurts a lot. But it's not too bad.”

“How's AJ handling it?”

“She's doing alright. She doesn't like to admit it, but she's having a hard time too.”

The thought of 'she knows nothing of a hard time' flashed through my mind. But I tried to brush it aside. What these two were going through was much worse than any pain I could be feeling, so what right did I have to even think that I knew more of suffering than they? “I'm sorry to hear that. But at least you guys are getting better, right?” I said with a small smile.

“A little bit at a time.” She replied with a bit of a smile.

There was a pause. The pleasantries had concluded, and it was time for the heart of the conversation to happen. Problem was, I had nothing to talk about.

And so I sat there, waiting for something. Waiting for a topic to pop up. But there was nothing. We had exhausted every other topic I could think of. We had chatted about each of her friends, we chatted about everything she knew about animals (much of which was very interesting), and we had even chatted about the various people at school. But this time, there was nothing. And I hated it. There was nothing more I hated than forced, awkward conversations. And it seemed as if each conversation with her was just that, and yet, I kept coming back to her. Was it my sense of duty? Was it perhaps some form of guilt? Perhaps, but...

“Umm … Can … I ask you a question? I-If you don't mind that is...” she stammered out, interrupting my thoughts.

I was shocked. She had actually spoken out for once. That never happened. I was always the one leading the conversation. “Uh, sure, go right ahead.” I answered.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked, looking into my eyes.

Those eyes. That look. It was a look of concern, and yet, so kind. If the eyes are indeed the window to the soul, then hers was warm as the sun and as gentle as a breeze. I wanted to give her the simple, 'nothing' or 'not much' answers, but I was helpless. I could not bring myself to lie to those eyes.

“Well, to be honest, about our conversations.” I responded. I figured that the best path was the honest one.

“Oh … what do you mean?”

“Well,” I began, pausing a moment to decide how I wanted to explain what I had been thinking about. “you see, I'm the kind of guy who likes to observe and understand things. As a result, I have a tendency to analyze the conversations I have with people. It's not that I judge them or anything like that, no no, it's not my place, but rather it's more like I like to look at them from...” and there I was, going at it again. It would happen quite often. I would begin talking, and I would never stop. I would explain whatever it was I was going to say like I was building a house, from the ground up. Then I would address a number of different points, and but always trying to keep in the main point. In my mind, this was the way to go. It made me feel like I was being smart, clever, and diplomatic. And it kept the other person I was talking to from getting a word in, lest they make the conversation awkward. Basically, it was an ego trip. Often, my purpose for going on these very long rants was noble enough (or so I believed), but I could not say that my intentions were entirely selfless. This time however, it was different.

As I ranted, I could see in her eyes a total lack of attention. Seeing that, I decided to try something else. I ended my rant. I had never done that before, but it felt kinda … good. I wanted to say so much more, but I knew that most of it was unimportant. So, I asked a simple question, “But that's not what you were looking for, was it?”

“Well, if that's what was on your mind, then I guess it was alright...” she said, almost timidly.

“Sorry, I tend to talk too much.” I said, and I knew the exact words she was going to say next.

“It's OK (or some would say 'alright'), I don't mind...” I almost mouthed the words as she said it. I refused to believe those words.

“No, it's not OK, I hogged the conversation. And in my mind, a conversation is supposed to happen two ways.” I said with practiced frustration. I'm sure that it all sounded new to her, I found myself simply parroting the same words I've said before.

Then, something I didn't foresee happened. She smiled at me and simply sat there. There was no counter argument, there was no expanding on what she had said. She just sat there, with that warm smile on her face. Never before had I found myself in that situation. It was as if she truly had meant it. I was never one to believe the kind words of others, but this was something else. I wanted to fill the sudden silence with words, but I stopped myself. Perhaps, just perhaps, there didn't need to be any words said. So I sat there, waiting to see what she would do next. The ball was in her court.

I was uncomfortable looking into her eyes, for I feared that my feelings for her would escape the cage I had shoved them into. But, if I looked away, then that might prompt her to not say whatever it was she was going to say. So I took a quick, almost involuntary glance at the window. Then, acting as though something interesting had caught my eye, I continued to look out it. I felt hot. I was scared. I wanted to talk, but I suddenly could think of nothing to say. So I continued to stare out the window, trying not to look into her eyes.

Still she said nothing. She only sat there, waiting for me to answer the question.

“I'm not sure,” I started, “it seems like … I …” I wanted to tell her that seeing her like this hurt. That seeing her like this filled me with sorrow and that there were sleepless nights where all I could think about was how that somehow I had done this. I wanted to tell her that she was the reason that I was slower than normal at work, that she was the reason that I … I …

“Umm, excuse me,” she said with a soft voice, “but you don't look so good. Are you OK?”

I was a fool for turning to look at her. “Huh? Oh, uhh …” As I looked into her eyes, I couldn't hold it in anymore. “No … no I'm not ok! I'm so sorry, but I can't help it!” I paused, unable to speak for the tears I was choking back.

“Help what?” she gently asked.

“All I can think about is you! All I can think about is how I must have done something to cause this! I know that's not the case, but I can't help it! I'm so sorry! If I hadn't been late! If only I could have been there! I'm so sorry! I wish that I could take this pain from you! Can't you tell!? I-I...” I had lost it. The flood gate had burst open and my tears fell freely. I buried my face into my hands, wishing for her to look away. I wanted to tell her how much I loved her. I wanted to tell her, right then and there, but I could not.

I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder. I hesitated for a moment, then I looked up. Her face was close. I could almost smell her hair-

Then she kissed me.

Comments

[OCisbestpony]

5753034

You can imagine how poor Taylor felt!

Spoilers:

[prince magic]

Applejack steps in) well fluttershy I just got bac- YOU SON OF A BICTH I WILL KILL YOU