Chapter 8
A few moments later, I was sitting upright on Fresh Coat’s sofa, trembling with anticipation, but pleased to some extent nonetheless.
She hadn’t kicked me out yet; she hadn’t punched me in the face, and hadn’t told me to screw off - so far, so good.
And now she was here, sitting right next to me … Fresh Coat.
Words can’t express how odd it felt having her this close to me again after not seeing her for so long; after everything that had happened. Needless to say, I enjoyed every second she was near me, but it felt bewildering nonetheless, and some skeptical voice in my head kept warning me that she would kick me out for whatever reason any second now.
So far, however, nothing too major had happened. She had allowed me inside, we had sat down on that black three seater of hers … that was just about it.
Hesitating, fighting with myself, I looked over to her, just to find her looking back at me with a somewhat nervous glance, but look away as she saw my head turn.
I knew I had to say something, but like so often with her around, found myself at a loss of words. She had said we needed to talk, right? But … but what if that was just an excuse to ask me back inside? What if … what if she wanted to make amends after all?
I could feel a tingle of excitement in my guts at that thought, but it was fought back down all too quickly - no point in getting my hopes up now.
Instead, I continued to look at her, opening my mouth to say something; anything to break this awkward silence.
“I…”
Well, aren’t I just the master of conversation?
“Hmm?” I heard Fresh Coat ask as her head turned back towards me, and my heart skipped a beat, realizing that I had her attention.
I closed my eyes, struggling to come up with something to say, but ultimately just settled for the first and most obvious choice on my mind.
“I’m sorry.” I apologized briefly, “For all this drama. I know I screwed up a lot of things recently; hurt a lot of ponies in the process, and I regret every second of it.”
At that, Fresh Coat looked at me in silence for a few moments, before she shook her head and gave a soft sigh.
“I’m not any better, am I?” she asked, a forced smile forming on her face, “Just barging in on you and Cinnamon just while you two were getting it on.”
“Fresh, please.” I said, begging with her.
“Sorry.” she said curtly, screwing up her face, “That sounded funnier in my head.”
Now it was my turn to sigh. It was clear that she wanted to do something about this awkward silence, but joking about things that had affected us all so badly really wasn’t the right way!
“Look…” she started over after a second, “I know you care about me. And I really, really do appreciate you trying to help me and get my work out there, but…” she shook her head, closing her eyes. “I don’t know. This is weird. Everything is weird. My whole damn life is weird at the moment.” she explained wearily.
I opened my mouth to say something; to tell her that this wasn’t a bad thing, and that I could help her through whatever it was should she need help.
However, before I could do so, Fresh Coat leapfrogged me, looking up and changing the subject. “Anyway,” she began, her voice back to its ever-cheerful and carefree tone - at least for the moment, “Anything I can get you? Water, maybe?”
I bit my lip, my mind hissing a curse. Damnit! Really, this whole situation seemed so easy to resolve! She needed help; someone to hold onto, and stay by her side. I needed her! So how come we were just sitting here pretending like nothing was wrong instead of doing the right thing and helping each other out!?
With a brief sigh, I cleared my thoughts, calming myself down. I was back with her for now, and she didn’t seem to be that raging mad at me anymore. So there was progress, right? And for all I knew, maybe I would end up reconciling with her on this very day.
“Hmm?” Fresh Coat asked again, and I noticed that I hadn’t replied to her yet.
“Uhh…” I muttered, noticing only now that my throat felt dry as dust, “Some … some water would be nice.”
“Water, got it!” she affirmed with a quick nod of her head, dashing off to what I presumed was her kitchen.
Slowly, I leaned back on her sofa, sighing with what I wasn’t sure was frustration or relief.
However, I tried to find solace in the thought that I had made it this far - and from the way she had acted earlier …
I had to fight with myself to contain that sheepish grin. True, her behavior after reading the letter might have implied that there was … something she was feeling for me, but knowing myself, I was fairly sure I would blow it if I would think too much about it.
Instead, I shook my head, clearing my thoughts again.
I was here; that was a start. Everything else was still open.
With that, I leaned back again, feeling slightly relieved at last.
However, that feeling of relief was quickly replaced by one of discomfort, as I felt a slight but noticeable pressure come from my bladder.
Seeing that Fresh Coat was still busy in the kitchen, I slowly arose from the sofa, getting to my hooves. Even with almost two weeks between now and getting my face smashed in in the park, I could still feel the slightest bit of ache remaining. Maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me.
Suppressing a groan, I looked around, spotting a nearby door to my side and, assuming that it would lead me to the desired bathroom, opened it and, led by lower instincts, swiftly stepped inside.
So, before I used to think her little apartment was plain, as the walls were completely white and the only color that even came from the room was the mismatched furniture, but here beyond this particular door was a whole other story.
In front of me I saw paintings on walls, walls with painting, paper and pencil drawings pinned on those walls, one whole mural and two sculptures. There were paintings of mountains and landscapes thronged with trees. The sketches were basic outlines of ponies in particular poses, but after a closer look I guessed they could have been NSFW.
That thought sparked a bit of blush, but my attention was drawn to what I thought to be the prized piece of the exhibit. It took up one whole wall and stood from floor to ceiling.
This thing was the aforementioned mural - and a large one too, as one could imagine. It even had scaffolding standing midway up to allow her to reach the ceiling with her magical grip and paintbrush.
Pictured in the mural was a magnificent landscape: rolling hills with elevated clouds and a figure standing in the foreground, overlooking the mountain that stood above the clouds like an island in the middle of the ocean. It truly was a masterpiece, and just from looking at it for a short moment, I felt awestruck.
“Wow.” I vocalized as I was lost for words. I mean, I knew that she had a talent for painting. The painting that used to hang on my wall back home proved that more than anything else. But this … this just burst all limits of what I had ever thought her capable of.
Really, if this was what she could do … there was so much more she could do! Sweet Celestia, this thing belonged into a museum! She belonged on the walk of fame!
Without thinking further, I turned around … and stared right into a pair of beautiful magenta eyes that were wide in shock.
Fresh Coat was standing right behind me. And from the look on her face, it seemed like she was going to suffer a heart attack any second now. Her eyes never leaving mine, she was staring at me like a deer in the headlights, and I only broke eye contact with her as the glass of water she had been meaning to bring me fell from her now vanishing magical grip and to the floor where it shattered with a loud clank.
“Fresh?”
“The door was supposed to be locked.” she nervously muttered, her body seeming to tremble ever so slightly. Before I could say anything else Fresh Coat had rushed behind me and was pushing me out while closing the door to her gallery. “It was supposed to be locked.” she said again, sounding utterly distraught as she rushed away once again only to return with a keychain and lock the door.
“Fresh, wait!” I didn’t know what she was on about. Had I done something wrong? She looked like she was about to have a nervous breakdown, so was I really not supposed to have seen that room?
“What the hell?” I couldn’t help but ask as she lowered the keychain and let her head hang low, giving an exasperated sigh, “What was that all about?”
Fresh Coat took a moment to reply, keeping her look focused on the ground in front of her hooves and probably getting her words out ready. Then, finally, she looked up and into my direction and timidly muttered, “You … weren’t supposed to be in there.”
“But why!?” it burst out of me. Seriously, she made it sound like I had found her secret stash of severed heads or something. “What you have in there…” I continued, thinking back to the mural, “It’s amazing!”
“No it’s not!” Fresh Coat fired back, her head turning red, “It fucking sucks! It’s terrible, that’s what it is!”
“What the hell are you talking about!?” I asked, unable to understand her sudden anger, “Why are you keeping all this hidden in there? Things like that belong in a gallery!”
“No they don’t.” Fresh Coat replied bitterly, closing her eyes. I was sure I saw a single tear running down her face, “They’re terrible, and nopony should have to see them.” She paused for a moment, seeming to think about what she had just said, but then focused me, and I could feel my heart sink as the bitterness in her face turned into anger.
“And you weren’t supposed to be in there!” she snapped at me, pointing an accusing hoof into my direction, “This is my place, and you had no permission to snoop around and waltz in there like it’s a clearance sale!”
I opened my mouth to defend myself -I had, after all, just been looking for the bathroom- but was cut short as Fresh Coat’s hoof shot forward, pointing at her apartment’s entrance door behind me and she hissed, “Get out!”
“Look, I’m sorry!” I started an attempt to console her, but without success, as she merely repeated the motion with her hoof and threw another, harsher, “Get out! Now!” at me.
I locked eyes with her, hoping that I could somehow make her understand that it was an accident, and that I didn’t mean to hurt her like this. Not again. Never again.
But it was futile. As the pretty mare repeated her ‘get out’ motion for a third time, I gave a defeated sigh, not wanting to provoke her any further, lowered my head and walked towards the exit.
As I stopped in front of the door and Fresh Coat’s magic opened it for me, I turned around to give her a final, begging look. “Look, I really am sorry. I had no idea-”
“Leave.” she cut me off bitterly, tears now freely running down her face, “Just go.”
I gave a brief sigh, but, realizing that resisting was futile, stepped outside into a darkened staircase. I turned around, wanting to offer her a final apology, but was cut short as the door was slammed into my face - possibly the clearest of all signals that I was no longer welcome.
Feeling myself getting near tears of frustration as well, I hissed a curse. What was wrong with this mare!? Or, more importantly, what was wrong with me that her throwing me out had felt like a sledgehammer to the face?
Seriously, she was probably crazy - had some sort of complex, some undisclosed desire or whatever. She wasn’t the first mare that had gone sour like this and thrown me out at the mention of a seemingly meaningless subject. And to be honest, I had never cared too much about these. If someone had thrown me out like this … well, that was their call. I would shrug, say “Screw them.” and move on with my life without looking back.
And especially after somepony had toyed with me like this … I mean, she had offered herself to me, I had declined, I had invited her to a date, she had kissed me. Then she had almost dumped me, I had gotten my face bashed in, she had left me, I had hooked up with her friend, she never wanted to see me again, I had apologized to her, she didn’t accept it, then I had come back and…
I gave a groan, rubbing my head.
Seriously, why didn’t I just let it go? Everything this mare had put me through … all the confusion, all the pain, and all the heartache … and yet I always kept coming back to her.
What in Celestia’s holy name was wrong with me!? Did I have some form of pain-addiction? Did I enjoy being toyed with and then dropped like a used condom?
Seriously, I didn’t know.
What I did know, however, was that moving on -or taking a single step to begin with- seemed utterly impossible with the knowledge that Fresh Coat was mad at me yet again.
I wasn’t exaggerating. I really didn’t see myself able to walk away in that second. It was as if my hooves had been welded onto the ground. As much as I wanted to shrug it off and leave, I just … couldn’t.
It was her fault, no doubt. I had stumbled into her hidden chamber by accident, and she had overreacted - plain and simple.
So why did I feel so utterly shitty right now? I had nothing to reproach myself for, did I?
No. No, of course I didn’t. And still, the plain, simple and utterly devastating fact remained that I had made her cry.
And that in itself was a fact that drowned out each and every thought about me not being the one to blame here.
Because all shifting the blame aside, right now Fresh Coat was in there; crying because of what I had done.
And boy, that thought itself threw me right back into that hole I had so laboriously forced myself out of throughout the past week.
I sighed, dropping my head.
But what did it matter now? It was too late - over and done with.
So what should I do?
Really, try as I might, I could not see myself walking away now. I was sick of all this drama, yet at the same time, I couldn’t … just leave her like this. I just couldn’t.
I sighed again, casting a look at the non-visible sky above me. Guess grandpa was right - love really does make you stupid. Or was it blind? I couldn’t remember.
Then again, I’d be lying if I’d say that I didn’t feel both in just that second. Some voice in my head kept telling me that staying here or even coming back to Fresh Coat would cause me nothing but pain and heartache in the future. A second voice kept whining about how exhausting and unnecessary all this feelsy drama was, and that I’d be better off on my own. And a third voice scolded me for being so damn unproductive recently. Really, I was scratching the bottom of the barrel now.
And still, all of those voices seemed to get drowned out by that ever-same realization: Fresh Coat was crying because of me.
And just like that, each and every desire to ditch her for good and move on with my life was blown away, and I was back to just standing there like the stupid, useless little dummy that I was.
So I did the only thing that seemed reasonable to me in this second. I walked over to the next set of stairs, sat down, and waited.
I didn’t know what exactly I was waiting for. Clearer skies, maybe? The end of the world? Was I waiting for Princess Celestia herself to descend from the heavens and tell me that it’d all be good?
Hell, I really didn’t know. I didn’t know why I was waiting, I didn’t know what I was waiting for, and I didn’t know for how long I was sitting on these cold stone stairs. Ten minutes, maybe? An hour? Or two weeks? I really couldn’t tell.
What I did know, however, was that it felt like angels singing from above as I could hear a door getting opened and a thin beam of light shining onto my sorry form sitting on the stairs.
Instinctively, my head shot around, my face lighting up as I saw the truly angelic-looking form standing in the doorframe, illuminated from behind like a celestial being, and looking down at me with an abashed frown on her face.
“I’m … sorry.” she admitted regretfully, “I … shouldn’t have-” she cut herself off mid-sentence, giving a muffled sob, “That was wrong of me. I shouldn’t have kicked you out like this. I … I’m sorry.” she paused, seeming to fight with herself, but then shook her head and hesitantly said, “P-please … come back inside … I mean … i-if you don’t mind. I … I’m sorry.”
“Go. Just go! Walk away! How long till she’ll just kick you out again? Let it go! Save yourself all that drama and just go home!”
I didn’t know where that voice was coming from. Was it the voice of reason? It certainly felt like it. Leaving now seemed like the reasonable choice. I’d go home, get a good load of sleep, and finally start working on that project again!
My life would be back in its daily grind, I wouldn’t have to dread the day my parents write me to ask about my situation, and I could finally lay off the Celestia-forsaken canned food and eat something decent again.
Yes, virtually all of my worries would be solved easily if I would go now. Get Fresh Coat off my mind for good with the knowledge that I’d given her plenty of chances, and that I had -possibly- given her career the boost it needed.
Hell, I had to go. It was the right, reasonable and mature thing to do.
So why had I jumped up and virtually dashed up the stairs like a colt on Hearth’s Warming Eve the second I had noticed the door getting opened?
Well, I gotta agree with Grampa again. Love makes you do all sorts of foolish, blind and stupid things.
But I’d be damned if I wouldn’t do it anyway.
I could feel my face lighten up noticeably as I walked up to her. And I swear, that brief look of relief flashing over Fresh Coat’s face as I came walking towards her was all I needed to clear out any doubts I might have ever had.
However, it was rather short-lived, and quickly gave way to an abashed look of shame, as she lowered her head again, muttering a timid “I’m sorry.” and searching for words.
I opened my mouth to say something; anything to take some of that pressure off her, but just like so often found myself at a loss of words, and thus simply resorted to non-verbal communication. Giving a short nod, and struggling to put a grateful smile onto my face, I stepped past her, back into her brightly lit hallway.
And once again, the brief look of gratefulness that I seemed to understand her without any words flashing over her face managed to brighten up my day ever so slightly.
However, as I stepped into her hallway, I remembered a certain pressure I hadn't quite gotten relived yet. Believe me, I would rather have not had to ask and ruin this blissful moment, but I couldn’t help myself as I said, “Uh, c-could I use the bathroom?”
The beautiful unicorn mare seemed baffled for a few seconds, before her face lit up, and I could feel my heart skip a beat. “Sure.”
As I began making my way, ushered by Fresh Coat who showed me the way, I briefly stopped just before I closed the door to the stall and stood there for a moment in thought. I couldn’t quite explain it, but all this thinking about her and us had prompted a question in my mind. A question I had never really asked myself before, but now that it was on my mind, not asking it seemed almost impossible.
“What is it?” Fresh Coat asked with concern, looking at my somber face.
Looking to the floor my sight traced only up to where her hooves stood on the floor as I asked, “Why … why’d you leave that note in the hospital?”
“W-what?”
“Why … why didn’t you stay?” I thought for a moment to justify myself asking this kind of question, but it was one that pressed me beyond belief.
Again, I didn’t know why I hadn’t asked it before. I had always taken her leaving me to wake up alone as a simple fact, but now that I had questioned it, I felt like I needed an answer!
“What … what do you mean?” she asked again, tilting her head to the side in confusion.
“Did you want to… dump me? I mean … from that note it felt like you just wanted to get rid of me. If you really wanted to...” I bit my lip, stumbling over that part, “Be with me after all, why didn’t you just stay and tell me in person?”
I looked her in the eyes when I asked that last bit, but what I saw scared me more than that asshole-buck did when he had pounced on me back in the park.
Her, standing there… unable to answer as she stared into my eyes, something welling up behind, but over what exactly I wasn’t quite sure. The tension in but a few moments built to something that was much more than I could bear. Wanting it to flee away, I nodded my head in acceptance and said, “I’ll…” I stepped into the bathroom. “I’ll be right quick.” And I closed the door, leaving a petty barrier of protection from whatever answer she might have given. It was hard, and if anything, I felt like the villain just doing so, but if I were honest with myself, I was scared.
I couldn’t quite explain why or what I was scared of. All this had happened ten days ago, and Celestia knows a lot had happened since then, but … really, I couldn’t help but to feel like her answer to that question would be leading the way to how she feels about me … about us now.
I wouldn’t be too long though - that much I knew. Sooner or later one has to come out of the bathroom and face the truth. But if anything at least it wasn’t a closet.
Meanwhile, Fresh Coat sat on her couch, mere steps away from her bathroom door. She fiddled with her hooves as she waited uneasily for Blank to come out and face her again. She was distraught about a lot of things right now.
Namely the fact that she had kicked him out a second time. The pony that had done so much for her; had taken a serious beating for her … hell, the one who had submitted her first ever painting to an art gallery because he wanted her to get noticed.
And she had just kicked him out!
She took in a shaky breath, rubbing her hooves against each other.
Words couldn’t express how glad she had been to find him still sitting there almost ten minutes after she had kicked him out. By all means, he had had no obligation to sit there and wait for her stupid ass to calm down again, and yet … he did. And it didn’t even seem like he was mad at her. Not one bit.
But … but why wasn’t he? Hell, after all the crap she had pulled he had every reason to be! Celestia knows she probably wouldn’t have stayed if she were him.
And yet, here he was. Back with her. What she had dreamt of no thirty minutes ago was now a reality.
And still, she couldn’t say that she was happy. She was glad that he was back with her; thankful that he gave her chance after chance, even if she kept screwing it up! But not happy. No, not with that elephant in the room.
As if by command, her guilty look went over to the locked door leading to her bathroom where she knew Blank Slate was right now.
What had that question been all about? It … it was a justified question, and Fresh Coat had known that he’d have to ask it someday, but … but why now of all times?
Her body stiffened in terror as a new ... a truly, truly horrible thought crossed her mind.
Was he … was he about to dump her?
He was about to dump her, wasn’t he? Of course he was! Hell, the writing was on the wall! She had kicked him out one time too many, and he, being the … the incredibly kind and caring soul that he was, didn’t have the heart to leave just like that. So instead he had come back inside, made up some sort of excuse to give himself some space from her nosy questions and come up with what was going to be the most gentle, caring and kind-hearted breakup-phrase she would ever hear.
Hell, she didn’t know if she should smile at the fact that he’d go that extra mile for her while every other buck would have just left without a word, or if she should break out in tears because he was about to go that extra mile to dump her!
Taking in a shaky breath, her body began to tremble, and her look finally broke loose from the bathroom door in an attempt to find something to clear her mind … and came to rest right on the second elephant in the room: the still locked door leading to her gallery.
Fresh Coat felt like she was about to suffer a heart attack.
She didn’t know what had come over her. Something inside her had just … snapped. It wasn’t like she didn’t want him in there. By all means, he was probably the only pony in this world she would voluntarily let in there, but … but him walking in there all by himself had triggered some form of defense mechanism in her. This was her sanctuary, and anyone setting hoof in there without her permission was a trespasser!
And now … now she had probably ruined any chances whatsoever she might have ever had.
Fresh Coat held on to that thought for a few seconds longer, then sighed and shook her head.
Hell, this wasn’t an elephant anymore; there was a whole damn herd of mammoths in the room here!
She closed her eyes, letting out a sound of exasperation.
Why did all this have to be so complicated!?
The pity she had over him during that first night of failed seduction had gone too far. She didn’t need to go on that date, she didn’t have to go on a picnic… Twice! Even if the second time she was going to dump him. Normally she wouldn’t even bother and simply disappear without a trace.
But why was he different from the others? What made her feel the obligation to be pleasant and nice and not sultry and slutty? It was mind-dumming just thinking about it, but as much as she reconsidered, thought, reconsidered, pondered and reconsidered some more, her mind always fell back on one answer.
The one answer that explained all the head- and heartache she had suffered during the past three weeks; the one thing that had made her stay and eat those abominable sandwiches; that had caused her to get scolded by Cinnamon so many times; and the reason why she had been wailing into her pillow like a heartbroken teenager less than an hour ago.
Yes, it was the one fact that had been written on a slip of paper in the back of her mind for almost two weeks now. Sure, she had always suppressed it more or less successfully by simply throwing a literal blanket over it, but … hell, now the note had grown into a damned billboard, leaving her staring at the devastating realization.
And she was all out of blankets.
“No,” she muttered, half ashamed with herself. “It can’t be.” Her words were hardly a whisper.
The conclusion seemed all too clear; it was flashing on her mind like a neon sign. Hell, Cinnamon herself had said it, and it was almost impossible to deny at this point.
But she didn’t want to have it true! She knew all too well what these kinds of feelings would lead to. Hell, she had experienced it - twice!
She shut her eyes, clenching her teeth as she recalled what Cinnamon had said to her earlier, and she could only imagine what the mature mare would say if she could see Fresh Coat now.
“Are you kidding me!?” Fresh Coat could hear Cinnamon’s voice snarl at her in her mind, “Now he’s already done three quarters of all the work for you, and you’re still sitting here feeling sorry for yourself!?”
Sighing, Fresh Coat lowered her head.
“Don’t pretend like you can’t hear me!” imaginary Cinnamon barked again, “Don’t make this harder than it already is! You both love each other, and you’re both sitting here, feeling sorry for yourself! Just go and get him! It’s not that hard!”
Again, Fresh Coat let out a soft sigh, her face screwing up in frustration.
“You’re making it sound so easy, Cinnamon...”
Then, however, her eyes drifted open again.
If … if what she had been thinking earlier was true; if he really was thinking about the best way to dump her right now…
She was grasping for straws, no doubt. Ironically, now it was her searching for ways to make him stay.
She bit her lip, her eyes travelling towards her kitchen for just a second, contemplating to throw together some ‘SanDWiCheS’ to lighten the mood, but quickly discarded that thought. He might just end up thinking she was making fun of him.
Instead, her look went over to the still locked door next to her sofa, and gradually, the frustration on her face vanished, making way for a look of insecurity as a new … a very, very risky idea popped up in her mind.
A few minutes -and some much, much-needed relief- later, I stepped through the bathroom door back into Fresh Coat’s living room, and was surprised to find the beautiful unicorn mare standing right in front of me with a nervous look on her face.
“S-so … everything alright?” she asked timidly, fidgeting with her hooves.
“Uh … yeah, sure.” i replied, a little perplexed by her change of demeanor. Really, who was this timid, shy filly, and what had she done to the laid-back, relaxed Fresh Coat I knew?
“Alright. Good.” Fresh Coat replied briefly, seeming awfully worked up about something.
Oh Celestia … she wasn’t about to throw me out again, was she?
“Uh … I was … I was thinking…” she began awkwardly, and I could feel my ears fold back.
She … she wasn’t going to tell me to leave again, was she? Oh Celestia, why couldn’t I just-
“W-would you like to … go in there again?”
My worried thoughts came to a halt in an instant at the unexpected question, and my eyes widened in surprise as I noticed that the door to her art-room was standing wide-open, virtually inviting me to waltz in there again.
"I-I mean … you … you can go in there again.” she invited me gently, tripping over her own words, “B-but only if you really want to.”
Slowly, still surprised about her sudden invitation, I turned my head towards her, looking her in the eyes.
Now, I’m not an expert when it comes to understanding mares, but even I could see that this wasn’t a peace offer, neither was it an invitation, and certainly not a concession.
No, she had asked me to go in there; her eyes were begging with me.
And really, who was I to say no to that? Her reaction earlier had proven how important her art-room was to her, and the fact that she was now ready to voluntarily share it with me spoke volumes about her feelings for me.
Of course, first things first, I was relieved to hear that she indeed didn’t seem to be at the verge of throwing me out after all.
Second, I was whole-heartedly surprised to see just how nervously the pretty unicorn mare was awaiting my reaction. Really, it felt like I was about to decide about her life or death.
So, without thinking too much, I did the only thing that was right in this moment. I brought an honest, sincere smile to my face, gave a curt nod and said, “Of course I do.”
I don’t think I ever saw Fresh Coat look this relieved in my life. Letting out a sigh that didn’t even begin to describe the weight falling off her back, she finally managed to produce a smile again - a fact that, once again, managed to brighten up this turbulent day for me ever so slightly.
“O-okay.” she replied, slowly walking past me on what looked like really shaky legs, and making her way over to the still ajar door.
I stepped inside behind her, letting my look wander over the colorfully furnished room.
Really, why had she hidden this from everyone?
“... this is amazing.” I subconsciously put my thoughts into words as I looked around, my look finally coming to rest on the eye-catching mural that completely filled out the wall opposite to me.
I turned my head to look at the artist behind it - she pressed her lips together, lowering her head in what looked like shame.
“Am I … the first one you’ve shown this to?” I asked what seemed obvious, gaining a slow, hesitant nod from her in return.
“But why?” I asked disbelievingly, “Why didn’t you share it?” Pointing a hoof at the painted wall, I added, “This isn’t something to be ashamed of!”
Still keeping her look directed at the ground, Fresh Coat hesitantly nodded. “If you say so…” she whispered, and I could swear I saw her crack the thinnest of smiles at that. “I just …” slowly, she raised her head, looking at me, but still avoiding eye contact, “I never had anyone to share it with. I mean…” she bristled, “After that thing with my ex, that is.”
“Hmm?” I asked carefully, tilting my head to the side. Of course, having talked with Cinnamon, I knew exactly what had happened with her fiancé all those months ago, but in the heat of the moment decided against revealing just that. By all means, she had not yet told me what had happened herself, and letting her know that I knew just about anything just seemed a little tactless.
Fresh Coat looked at me for a long moment, seeming to fight with herself, but then shook her head and looked away. “I’d … rather not talk about it.”
“Alright.” I replied softly, “Guess it’s still a little too fresh, huh? No problem.”
She slowly nodded her head, giving me a grateful look as she softly said, “Thanks. I’m glad you understand.”
I smiled back, giving myself a mental pat on the back for that.
Bullet dodged.
Fresh Coat kept her eyes locked with me for another moment, and I could see something in them. I couldn’t put my hoof on it, but the way she looked at me; that … genuinely happy, friendly … loving look in her eyes almost made it look like…
But before I could end that thought she broke the eye contact, looked away, stomped her hoof in anger and hissed, “Fuck!”
Ignoring my puzzled expression, she took a step back, all the while continuing her tirade, “Shit shit shit! No! No, this can’t fucking be! I can’t like you this way!” she looked at me, and I was sure I could see tears in her eyes, “I can’t … love you!”
“What?” I couldn’t help but ask, noticeably surprised.
“Don’t play dumb!” Fresh Coat hissed at me, now seeming angry at me for some reason, “Do you think I didn’t notice the way you’re looking at me!? I know you got the hots for me! Hell, only a moron wouldn’t know that after all that happened! And…” she bit her lip, almost hard enough to draw blood, “Shit, I know I feel the same way about you!”
“W-what?” I managed to sputter out, no doubt happy about her sudden confession, but at the same time confused why she seemed to be angry about it. Really, in essence, that was all I’d been wanting to hear ever since I first lay eyes on her.
“For real? But … but that’s great, isn’t it?” I asked as finally a smile found its way onto my face. “I mean, if that’s how you feel about me, and how I feel about you, then-”
“No it’s not!” Fresh Coat shouted at me, and I was sure I saw tears forming in her eyes, “Nothing is great! I never wanted any of this! I never wanted to stay with you for longer than a night, I never wanted to drag you to the hospital after you got beaten up for me, and Celestia knows I never wanted to fall in love with you!”
I swallowed at that last part, feeling my ears turn red. Hearing her say that caused an all new wave of emotions breaking over my mind, and a feeling of weightlessness spreading through my heart.
She had said it! She had admitted it! I could die as a happy pony now!
But … but...
“But why?” I asked the inevitable question. “Why didn’t you?”
“Because falling in love is bad!” she shouted back at me, tears flooding her eyes, “Feelings are bad! Depending on someone is bad! All this crap…” she shook her head, wiping tears from her face with a hoof and letting out a sob, “It’ll only get you hurt, alright? It may feel great at first, but once you realize that we’re all just savages looking for our own best, you’ll be left behind…” her body seemed to deflate as her tirade came to an end and she lowered her head, “All by yourself, lonely … and broken.”
I looked at her in silence for a long moment, letting her words sink in as small droplets of tears ran down her face and fell to the floor. Then, finally having my words out ready, I took a step towards her and asked, “What happened?”
That was a stupid question to ask. I knew exactly what had happened, and after what Cinnamon had told me, I doubted I could learn anything more from her side of the story.
And still, in this second it seemed all too obvious that she wanted; that she needed to talk about this; explain it to someone who she knew cared, and blow off some steam, if nothing else.
The beautiful unicorn mare remained silent for a moment, then sighed and looked back up at me. “You really wanna know?” She asked drably, her eyes still wet and reddened.
I gave a curt nod. “Yes. Yes, of course I do.”
A few more tears and she came to her decision. She nodded and gently waved with her head. “Come on,” she instructed me weakly, leading me out of her art-room and back into her living room where we sat back down on her sofa.
I could tell that this thing was going to be hard for her to talk about. Hell, I knew what she was about to tell me, and in a way it felt wrong ‘tricking’ her like this, but Celestia knows telling her now that essentially Cinnamon had already told me everything would probably do nothing but ruin the moment.
“Fresh, you don’t have to tell me if you really don’t want to.” I said softly, putting a reassuring hoof on her shoulder.
“Stop it,” she sobbed. “I’m telling you, after all it's my fault you got this far.”
I hesitated at that. Was it something I was supposed to be proud of or ashamed of? I couldn’t tell.
With a few more uneasy breaths she raised her chin and began to speak. “I-I met this guy…” Just from the way she began, I knew that this was going to be heavy for her. “He seemed nice… ya know? I-I’d just gotten out of art school ... ya know, super ambitious and full of optimism and here he comes. We’re happy, he’s friendly, I’m painting, a few months go by and…” She gave a short, dry chuckle, “Hey, next thing ya know we’re getting married.”
I nodded my head understandingly - no big news for me, really. However, it took me a second to remember that, once again, Fresh Coat didn’t know what I knew, so I quickly widened my eyes in what I hoped looked like genuine surprise, trying to imitate the look I had on my face when Cinnamon had first told me about Fresh Coat being engaged.
And really, it seemed to work.
Keeping her eyes on me as she wiped a streak of her mane out of her face, the mare sitting opposite to me continued slowly. “But this particular buck…” she hesitated, drawing a shaky breath. “He was ... indecisive. Up to the point when…” her voice broke, and she had to swallow, but started over shortly after. “While I stood there, dress and all, organ playing, vows being read off, cheeks read and all blushy blushy he’s asked… a-asked if… I’ll.” She began to choke up on her own word, but nothing really needed to be said, because if anything I already could tell, but I didn’t interject. If anything I could tell that talking about it was the best thing I could do for her. She found her voice as shaky and sad as it was and sputtered, “He left me standing there!”
That last part caused the dam to break at last. Tearing up in a way that made me want to cry right with her, she then began to let loose, shamelessly crying and sobbing like a foal in front of me as she repeatedly whispered how he left her standing there.
I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t a caregiver; I hardly even knew mares. What was I supposed to say? “It's okay, just move on, he was probably thirty percent bitch and seventy percent chump anyways?” Or something along these lines? Or should I just…
My thoughts came to a halt as my body, more out of instinct than anything else, acted, and I found myself leaning over to her and putting a hoof on her back.
She reacted immediately, turning towards me, leaning against my shoulder, and letting it all out.
For a good five minutes we just sat there, with me holding her, gently running my hoof over her back, and her just sobbing into my shoulder, seeming too absorbed in her memories to say anything.
It felt … really, really good. And I know how horrible that sounds, saying that you're feeling good while the pony you love is crying her eyes out right next to you, but ... I couldn't explain it. Having her close to me, watching her finally make amends with something that had so deeply hurt her, and knowing; feeling that I was the one she was leaning on; that it was me who provided her with the shoulder she so desperately needed … it was something I had never felt before. It felt better than having her tease me with her butt, better than watching her walk into the diner for our date … hell, it even felt better than having her kiss me back at the bar.
Because contrary to that kiss, what was happening now wasn’t induced by alcohol, frustration or despair. No, what was happening now was … genuine; real … and so much more intense than that not-so-short peck on the lips she had given me on that fateful night.
She was getting over that crippling sadness, and I was helping her … curing her.
And it felt better than anything I had ever experienced.
However, eventually Fresh Coat managed to calm herself, and sat up, leaving a pleasant warmth on my shoulder where her head had been. Subconsciously or not, I kept my hoof resting on her back as she sat up, took in a long breath, then let it out again.
Turning her head towards, me, indicating that she wasn’t done just yet, she then continued. “And then my art crisis happened.” she explained, and I watched a shiver run through her body as her temper began to rise, “Ponies all said it was bad; that my art was shit and stupid fucking stuff. I failed at auctions and best I could do was sell for a bit or two. ... Shit, I wanted to paint murals, Blank Slate!” she cried. “But look at me! I’m running from apartment to apartment painting walls for bucks and sluts who are too lazy to do it themselves. I fuck without giving a fuck and it was my mistake to let you stick around me, Blank! I don’t want to fall in love! Not after what he did!” she fell silent for a second, just breathing softly, then so quiet it was barely audible, added, ”I … I don’t want to be hurt again, Blank. Not again.”
I ... I couldn’t help it. The thought of being compared to such an indecisive lowlife of a stallion ... triggered something with in me.
As a result, I inadvertently, bluntly, and somewhat scoldingly interjected with, “But I’m not him, Fresh Coat! I never left you, I never wanted to hurt you! I fought for your venture and I treated you with high regards!”
I bit my lip, shaking my head as my sudden outburst faded.
“I’d never do that, Fresh.” I spoke much softer, her gaze avoiding mine as she snivelled and sobbed. “You … you mean more to me than anything else in this world. Yes, I fucked up w-with Cinnamon, but … but haven’t the days and the moments I’ve been with you proven that I want nothing but the best for you, and that I...” I stuttered, tripping over that part for just a second, “... I love you?”
Fresh Coat quietly shook her head, still refusing to meet my gaze. “I-I don’t know Blank. I ... I just don't know.”
“You’re scared!”
I didn’t know what came over me. Really, it just burst out of me. Yes, it might seem insensitive, but it was true. And even before I could even think about stopping myself, my mouth swiftly continued, “You're scared of rejection, you're scared of failure, you’re scared of disapproval but most of all … you’re scared just to fall in love.”
“I-I… I, no B-Blank.” she quietly muttered, slurring her words as her head sank. “I-it’s not tr-true, Blank.”
“Yes it is.” I replied bluntly, surprised at my own decisiveness. Again, I didn’t know what had gotten into me. Maybe I really was fed up with all this unnecessary drama, especially now that the obvious had been stated more than once. “I know it, and you know it too. So who are you trying to convince here?”
At that she sighed deeply, breaking the eye contact with me and turning her head away.
“So?” she brought out after a moment of silence, her voice weak and barely audible, “So what if I’m scared?" Her voice gradually increased in volume as she turned her head back towards me, her tearstained eyes meeting mine, "So what if I have some form of commitment phobia? I have all the right to, don’t I?” she sighed, shaking her head. “Yes, you’re right, I am scared!” she admitted, shrugging, but keeping her eyes on me. “So what now, huh? What should I do, Blank? What do you wanna hear from me?”
“I … I” I stuttered, tripping over my own words, “I mean … it’s just…” I cut myself off, shaking my head to clear my thoughts, and instead focused on what I really wanted to tell her. Lifting my head and looking her in the eyes, I slowly, carefully said, “You don’t need to be afraid, Fresh Coat. I'm here with you."
I paused for a second, letting my words sink in, then softly added, "And I promise, I won't let you get hurt. Not now, and never again.”
At my words Fresh Coat suddenly became silent as she sat there, tearing and quietly crying. I needed to say something more, and I was going to, but before I knew it, Fresh Coat had leaned in and fallen into me. I hugged her as she laid against my chest and I rested my head atop hers as I rubbed her shoulder in an effort to comfort her.
At that moment I felt that something genuine had been formed; something that could quite be put into words, but didn’t need to be spoken.
It was a natural phenomenon, but a rare one at that too, and as she laid in my arms, letting me comfort her, I knew that this was it.
This was what I had been searching for all this time.
This … was real love.
She was mine and I was hers.
And nothing would ever change that.
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A stomach bug, a headache from Hell, and learning I had quite literally just completely wasted three full days of work on something?
Somebody up there is looking out for me, because I needed this today more then any other day. I'm angry and sick beyond all reason, but hey, nothing like seeing the story on the very top of my Incomplete Favorites list updating to cheer a person up.
My only regret is I wasted all my reviewer flair on the last comment.
Well, I'll have to settle for saying that the ending was as great as the journey. It was a rollercoaster from start to finish, but the finish was as satisfying as a date that concludes with that storybook ferris wheel scene.
Thank you again for this, P-Berry. And MadDonut, if you see this, thank you just as much.
8584567
Well, I'm always glad to brighten up days, whether intentionally or not
I really do appreciate your feedback though. You wouldn't believe how much the comments people (including you) have left here have influenced the story, not to mention gotten me to be productive for once and bring out the next chapter sooner rather than later.
But in any case, cheesy as it may sound, I value your opinion, and I'm glad you approve of the ending. Past experiences have shown that I tend to take things a little too far in the corniness-department, so I tried to make this ending at least a little more sober. Glad it caught on.
So yeah, that pretty much wraps up this story. The followup (based on Chapter 6) is already written out and should be up once I'm done working on a different story (which might be interesting to you as well) so stay tuned for that ^^
*Inhales Deeply*
WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! *dies* <3
Damn did that ending left me a bit emotional (not literally). Normally I'd be asking a ton of questions since I have so much in mind with this chapter, however I'm just gonna go ahead and say that you soooooooooo much for sharing this story for us P-Berry. You and MadDonut sure know how to put out an extraordinary fic. And when I say extraordinary, I mean just about every definition of that word! Again thank you so much!
Edit 12/6/17: I just realized that Fresh Coat made an cameo appearance in "Spice Up Your Life." And I'm here sitting in front of my laptop thinking, "Wow, I did not see that coming."
vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/mlp/images/6/67/Fresh_Coat_ID_S6E12.png/revision/latest?cb=20160611223615
8593155
Thank you for the feedback and the kind words!
And by all means, if you have any questions, feel free to throw them my way. I'll gladly answer what I can!
And to be honest, I didn't think too much about it when I first saw her in that episode. It were the amazing images drawn by fandom artists (namely Weasselk and Shinodage) that sparked my interest in her, and led me to write The Painter. The rest, as they say, is history.
frankly well the story is great, your lack of having fresh coat get called out for her actions is unhealthy, for blank and for fresh coat.
your sense of self worth has a harder time building up strength if there is nothing to fight against and even lose against. your characters are greatly sculpted and your story is great but fresh coats karma Houdini kinda ruins the feel. yes you had cinnamon tell her to get her head out of her ass, but no one kinda underlines the borderline hypocritical way she handles the situation, i'll say again given the situation blank didn't actually hurt her. the only one hurting fresh coat in the situation given if fresh coat. honestly this story suffers only for that minor flaw in character, i get you wanted the whole internal monologue self loathing thing, but it still comes across poorly that none of her friends cared about her enough to point out that she is the source of her own misery and someone else's, i'll give cinnamon did that, but not the degree it needed..
The drama in here, it was pretty much picturesque. Seriously, it was so thick you were able to cut it with a knife. Good thing that the both of them had Cinnamon to get their heads out of their plots.
Either way, this was an enjoyable read, so thank you for that!
8611358
I see your point, although I respectfully disagree. I personally haven't (and I hope neither have you) experienced what it's like being left at the altar, but I suppose it's safe to say that it'll hurt you on a level invisible to most.
With that said, I get that Fresh Coat comes across as selfish at certain parts - and that's wholly intentional, really. But I actually do think that it was Blank (and to an equal extent Cinnamon) who hurt her in this situation. Maybe not directly hurting her, but causing her to hurt which, to someone like her, can be equally bad.
Like I said, I see your point, but I wouldn't go so far as to say that it can all be blamed on her - she was in the wrong at parts, no doubt, but in the end I don't think one can blame it all on her.
But of course, everyone has different experiences and expectations and thus will react differently to certain topics in the story , and if to you it felt like Fresh Coat is the source of her own suffering, then I'm in no position to tell you that you're wrong.
But regardless, thank you for reading the story and leaving feedback. It's highly appreciated
8620539
Thanks dude. I'm glad you liked it!
At times, especially towards the latter end of the story. The story came across as rather rushed, and too fast paced. The slew of misunderstandings, break ups, make ups and confessions, was just... all a bit much quite frankly. The scene with Blank Slate confessing his love to Cinnamon was incredibly cringe worthy as well. One date as he's saying he loves her? Jeeze... I know he's still new to the entire relationships thing, but that was just painful, and the scene would have been made much, much better if that aspect was cut, and he instead admitted he was confused about this entire affair.
As it stands, my issues with the story only really started at around chapter 5, which was the story where you lost your partner. Were you originally planning on making it a longer story, only to cut it short because they decided to move onto other works? Either way, at around chapter 5. Events feel a lot more forced than they did before, with the progression of Blank Slate and Fresh’s Coats relationship feeling a lot less than a progression of two uncertain and unsure ponies fumbling through a relationship. And a lot more like two characters going through the motion of a show with the most amount of drama possible between them.
Still, chapter 7 and 8 aren’t without their moments. The way that Blank Slate resolved to help Fresh Coat be who she wanted to be, and not just a wall-painter. Her reaction to this, and then him stumbling onto her paintings were fantastic for sure, and I really, really liked that. Really hits right in the feels as well. Though I do think the fact that Fresh Coat kicked him out again, only to invite him back inside was a tad much, even if I can see why she would act like that.
Honestly, my main takeaway with the story is that it hasn’t been given enough time to flesh these two out. I really, really liked their dynamic and chemistry between chapters one to four, it was fantastic reading about them and their different points of view. One shy, uncertain and inexperienced. The other confident, saucy and forwards, yet at the same time deeply hurt and even more uncertain than Blank was. It was great, fantastic and really made me feel for them. I really think we could have seen more of that. More of them just being friends and going out on dates/not-dates. Uncertain, unsure and messing up, but slowly and surely moving forwards. More about Blank Slate coaxing Fresh Coat to become the artist she was always meant to be. More of Fresh Coat pushing Blank Slate to actually follow his dream and try to be an accomplished architect! Which, incidentally, is an area of the story that is severely underdeveloped. More of Cinnamon being a playful tease, yet being able to give serious advice, rather than the much more serious pnoy she became in the end. Just... more of these two, more build up, more slip-ups and mistakes and apologies and forgiveness. This story... just shouldn’t be 8 chapters. It was too good at the start to end so soon.