Lemon Sorbet

by Annuska

Order

Each step up the staircase felt heavier than it sounded. Each step, slow and deliberate, felt like it carried the weight of an anchor, but sounded like nothing more than a gentle push down against the floor. Sonata didn’t intend for them to be so weighty, for them to sound so reluctant, as if she were pacing, hesitating, afraid— but maybe she was pacing and hesitating and afraid.

No, she was definitely pacing and hesitating and afraid.

But getting a text asking that she come over please, devoid of the usual uppercase letters and emoticons and excessive exclamation points characteristic of Pinkie’s texts had put a lump in Sonata’s throat and she had no idea what she was walking into. She hadn’t thought texts could sound so quiet, but Pinkie’s had, and it was frightening.

Pinkie’s sister didn’t give her much insight, either. She’s upstairs was all she’d said.

Sonata had learned not to expect much out of Maud, though.

And now she came to the landing at the top floor, taking the few extra steps to Pinkie’s door and lifting her hand in a tentative fist to knock. The hesitant knocking was followed by a quiet beckoning for Sonata to enter, drifting barely audible through the door, and so she entered, just as quietly as the summons had been spoken.

“I—I’m here,” she stammered, immediately wishing she could backspace her words the way she backspaced typos in a text. Of course she was there. What a dumb thing to—

“I’m glad,” Pinkie said, again in a whisper. She sat upright in her bed, legs crossed, pillow in arms, staring off at nothing dazedly. There was some hint of relief in her voice, even if she didn’t look at Sonata as she spoke.

The lump caught in Sonata’s throat once more and she tried to swallow it down. She’d many times been the one to call Pinkie, in need of company during a particularly unpleasant emotional phase, but never had she been witness to Pinkie in that same state – not like this.

Cautiously, Sonata approached the bed and sat. Should she touch her? Would that make it worse? She didn’t even know what was wrong—oh. Maybe she should start there. Right.

“What’s going on . . . ?”

Finally, Pinkie’s eyes broke away from their aimless gaze and turned up toward Sonata – but only for a fleeting moment.

“I feel like a burned out lightbulb,” she said, blinking once before lowering her eyes again. “Or a lamp with a burned out bulb. Or a whole room. I need a new one. A bulb, I mean. Everything’s all out of order.”

Sonata glanced up at the light hanging from the ceiling, then back down at Pinkie. She tried to imagine what a burned out lightbulb might feel like, but conceptualising an inanimate object with feelings tripped her up; she had a difficult enough time getting too deep into the feelings of other people as it was.

But Pinkie made her actually want to try to.

A burned out lightbulb couldn’t light up anymore, obviously. It rattled in a faintly metallic way when shaken. Electrical currents were incapable of being conducted—oh.

Burned out. Electricity fizzled. Light gone.

“Um . . .” Sonata started, turning her gaze to the stuffed alligator sitting at the foot of the bed. A strange staleness settled into her with the thought of her girlfriend feeling as if she’d burned out, had the electricity fizzled out of her, the light taken, and she hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Like, usually I feel pretty upbeat and all, but . . . some days I just sorta . . . I dunno, feel flat.” Sonata looked back over at Pinkie. “Is . . . it like that?”

Pinkie nodded, wordlessly leaning further into her pillow. Sonata watched before picking Gummy up and scooting closer.

“I think maybe holding onto this will help more. Um. Than the pillow. I mean.” Sonata gingerly offered the stuffed alligator in trade. Pinkie looked at her again, and lifted her hands – but Gummy was set aside, and Sonata found herself with hands on her arms instead, and she allowed herself to be pulled into Pinkie’s hold.

“I’ll be okay,” Pinkie said, resting her forehead against Sonata’s shoulder. “I just need . . . quiet today.”

Breath quietly exhaled, a subtle nod, fingers through curly hair; that was Sonata’s silent response as Pinkie beckoned her to lie down next to her, resting their heads close and wrapping her arms around Sonata.

And the staleness dissipated and Sonata settled into the quiet.

Maybe it wasn’t that frightening after all.

Author's Note:

Based on the prompt "order".

Comments

[xgfhj]

Adorable, beautiful, and art house were words that came to my mind while reading this. This was an excellent story, quite the pleasure to read, so thanks for it!

As soon as I saw this story in my feed I expected it to be good, considering you first story, but it’s actually better than I thought it’d be and earns solid five star rating from me; I can’t help but notice it’s unfinished so I’ll be looking forward to more of this!

[mlpsuperfan]

Not bad. Not bad at all. Shipping isn't really my thing, but this is really eloquently written.

[Annuska]

6027464
Thank you so much for your kind comment! I'm quite honoured to have it place in your 5~5 shelf. I hope you'll enjoy upcoming chapters!

6028832
Thank you very much!

[The Forgotten Siren]

This was nice

[Annuska]

6033905
Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it.