> Mother's Boy > by Grimm > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Photographs > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “No.” Diamond Tiara blinked. He couldn’t remember the last time his mother had said no to him, particularly over something so trivial. “What?” “I said ‘no’,” Filthy Rich repeated, stomping her hoof for emphasis. “Now stop asking.” “But-” “Please, darling, don’t whine about it.” Another surprise; the last time she’d called him ‘darling’ had been years ago. Back when Diamond was still a little colt, back when Dad was still around. Not that Diamond missed that time, though – they were better off without him. His mother had been far more doting after he left, too; eager to keep Diamond around. As long as she did so, Diamond had been able to ignore pretty much any responsibilities and simply do what he pleased. Now at the age where most ponies would be beginning unfulfilling and dead-end careers, Diamond was able to enjoy a life of luxury safe in the knowledge that the family business would practically run itself. All it required was staying with his mother; not an unwelcoming task given their opulent manor, and how accommodating she was to any of his requests. Usually. “But there’s so much space up there!” Diamond would not give up so easily. “It makes my bedroom look tiny. If I could just have a look to see if we could-” “I’m not going to say it again. Don’t go up there.” “But-” His mother glared at him. “Fiiiiiiiine,” he sighed. “Promise me.” “I promise.” Filthy Rich took her son’s face in her hooves. “Look at me when you say it.” Staring resolutely into her eyes, Diamond smiled. “I promise.” Lying had always come easily to him. *** Despite his skill in the art of deception, Diamond’s mother was not so easily persuaded. Very aware of his nature, she’d stuck close to him all day, watching him like a hawk. She found every possible excuse to spend time with him, or at least keep him in her sight. And it wasn’t as though he could refuse; that would be too obvious. Instead, he endured. It was painful at times – chores were beneath somepony like him, and yet for some mysterious reason the entire staff had decided today was the perfect day for a holiday. His mother, it seemed, had a few tricks of her own in her repertoire. By the time evening came, Diamond Tiara had concluded that whatever was in the attic was the only thing he had ever truly wanted. His mother was so defensive that it had to be good, and there was nothing that could keep him from finding out what it was. Sleep. That was his chance. Oh, she’d expect it, of course, but it would still work. Diamond just had be clever about it. It had been an hour since he’d announced he was going to bed, and as he lay there, eyes tightly shut and in the most natural pose he could assume, he wondered what was keeping her. Presumably she was waiting for Diamond to make a move first, but the fire of curiosity was enough that he could win any waiting game she played. And indeed, his door finally creaked open, sending the yellow light from the hall skewering into his room. Soft hoofsteps approached his bed, stopping by his side and followed by a whisper. “Diamond?” Receiving no response, his mother brushed his mane out of his eyes, giving a small exhale as she did so that wasn’t quite a sigh. He reacted by shifting slightly, as if she had disturbed his rest. And for a moment, the room was silent. Just the two of them – Diamond maintaining his act, his mother standing quietly beside him. “Good night, Diamond,” she whispered at last, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead before departing, not quite shutting the door behind her (it always annoyed him when she did that). He stayed there for a long time, listening intently as her hoofsteps moved down the hall to the bathroom. Soon enough the distinct sound of her own bedroom door clicking shut reached his ears. It was tempting to make a break for the attic now, but the hatch was between his room and hers, and if she wasn’t asleep she’d no doubt hear it. And so he waited, his already burning impatience growing ever more insistent. Why don’t you just go now, she’ll be asleep, she won’t hear. But waiting would reward him in the end. Another hour passed. Perhaps it was a bit much, but Diamond had to be sure; it would be so easy to get caught otherwise. His eyelids were now beginning to droop of their own accord, and if he wasn’t careful he may well fall asleep. It was time. The light stung his eyes as he pulled open the door, lifting it a little to stop it creaking. This was far from his first night-time excursion, and it was a trick he’d learned a long time ago. The carpeted hall did wonders to muffle his hooves as he advanced towards the hatch embedded in the ceiling. Now was the difficult part. Traditionally the hatches were designed to be opened by unicorns, and so they had no means for earth ponies to access them. With the manor’s new occupants, it had been modified to open by means of a pull-rope that could just about be reached if Diamond stood up on his hindlegs. Unfortunately, the steps that slid down would likely make a lot of noise when they hit the floor, and he couldn’t risk waking up his mother. So this was to be an exercise in dexterity; he would have to pull on the rope and then stop the steps with a spare hoof, keeping them from extending too quickly. This meant Diamond would be balancing on his hind legs for much longer than was prudent, and falling over would be loud and disastrous to his plans. He’d just have to trust in his own ability. Heaving himself up to the rope was easy enough, catching it with a hoof and giving it a firm yank, but the steps dropped far quicker than he anticipated and Diamond’s front hoof missed them completely as they cascaded down to the floor. In a last-ditch effort to save himself from his mother’s wrath, he stuck one of his hindlegs into the steps’ path, balancing entirely on a single leg while clutching the rope for dear life as the ladder struck him hard on the shin. It took all he had to not cry out in pain, but manage he did, lowering the steps gently the rest of the way. With that done, Diamond dropped back to his hooves, taking a moment to swear profusely and indiscriminately under his breath. If the ladder had been sentient it would likely have been reduced to tears at the onslaught Diamond subjected it to, but it remained frustratingly silent under his verbal tirade. At least it made him feel a little better. And he had done it, his prize lay just ahead of him, and it was time to see exactly what his mother was hiding. *** The attic was surprisingly bare, all things considered. Such a large house would usually have mountains of junk left over from previous generations, but here there was nothing but a single large chest in the middle of the room. It made Diamond’s search easy, however, because what else could his mother have possibly wanted him to avoid? It was locked. Understandable – hell, expected, really – and Diamond had come prepared. Years of miscreancy had prepared him for just such an occasion, and – using one of the hairpins he’d swiped from his mother’s bed-stand – he managed to twist open the lock in a matter of minutes. A broad smile graced Diamond’s features. At last, he’d know what his mother had been keeping from him. Visions of hidden riches filled his mind as he swung open the lid, immediately to disappear upon seeing its actual contents, his grin vanishing with them. The chest was full of memories. It was strange; Diamond had never thought to question what had happened to the remnants of his father’s life with them. Until now it hadn’t even occurred to him how everything his father had once been was slowly assimilated out of their lives, and here were the answers to questions he didn’t know he had. A family portrait, the three of them happy and ignorant; an old suit that Diamond had seen him wear maybe once; a bottle of cologne that must have been too expensive to throw away, despite being mostly empty. All these and countless more, each instantly recognisable as Diamond sifted through the box with increasing fervour. Here was a photo album, filled entirely with pictures of their family. Beneath it lay a beaten up violin that Diamond’s father had played on occasion, when the mood took him. He was terrible – Diamond always thought it sounded like screeching cats. On and on it went, each new discovery carrying just as many memories, his heart sinking further each time. And beneath it was the hot anger that Diamond felt when his father had first left, reborn now in this dusty attic. He had thrown all this away, abandoned it just as he had them. Hoof scraping against the bottom now, Diamond pulled up one of the last items – a silver pocket watch. Pristine and ornate, it made a satisfying thunk when he threw it against the wall. Peering into the chest revealed the only thing left. A horseshoe box, frayed around the edges. He almost didn’t open it. Any curiosity Diamond had felt was gone now, unsatisfied and leaving him empty. But another part of him forced him to continue. He needed to do this; he needed to have seen it all. The box was lighter than he anticipated, and in a final act of disdain Diamond tipped it upside down, scattering its contents over the floor among the mess he’d already made. More photos. But these ones were different. For a start, rather than the family ones prior, they all featured only a single pony. Diamond’s mother. And he had never seen her like that before. ‘Provocative’ was too tame a word for the pictures that now lay before him. In one, his mother was bent over the very same couch that currently sat in their living room, staring back at the photographer with a gaze that would make any stallion lose their train of thought. Her tail was curled around her, only just hiding her marehood behind it. In another she reclined backwards on the bed, hoof between her legs and biting her lip in bliss. Diamond had seen mares look like that before, naturally, but to see his own mother was entirely different. The mare who had raised him, cared for him his entire life, now lying on her back and exposing herself to the camera. To him. A bump against his stomach only confirmed Diamond’s reaction to the pictures, his arousal pressing upwards against his skin. Oh Celestia, this was wrong. This was so, so wrong, and yet Diamond couldn’t tear his eyes away from them. Each picture was more explicit than the last, and each one made it even harder to look away. Stop it Diamond. Just stop it. But he couldn’t, and instead fell to his haunches, his hoof beginning to stroke himself almost absentmindedly. His mother stared lustfully up at him from the photographs as he did so, urging him to continue, to keep going while she displayed herself to him and only him, her loving son. But of course this was all in his head, and Diamond’s mind strayed to the real pony down below. What would she do, he wondered, if she were to discover him here, pleasuring himself to her candid pictures? Would she be repulsed? Angry? … Excited? Oh my, Diamond, what do we have here? Her words were in his head, but they still sent a tingle through him. If you wanted to see me like that, the mare in his imagination continued, all you had to do was ask. Diamond could see his mother sauntering over to him, her flank swaying as she walked. She’d take him in her hoof and he’d gasp. Oh Diamond, do you like the pictures THIS much? So excitable – just like always. Here, let me take care of you. She’d grip him between her hooves, slowly jerking him off and watching his reactions the whole while, speeding up if he ever looked impatient, slowing again if he got overexcited. He’d groan as her touch brought him to the edge time after time, always retreating before he could finish. You make such cute faces, she would say. You’ve been so good, Diamond. Now, let it out, for me. And then she’d speed up, not stopping this time, letting her hooves carry him over the brink as he released all over her body, sticky, white strands covering her fur. And then she’d smile at him, so proud that her colt had grown into a stallion, licking his excess off her hooves. “Fuck,” breathed Diamond, as his imagination pushed him over the limit. His length twitched in his hooves as he came, shooting over the photos in front of him, covering his mother’s image with his climax. A final spurt, and then Diamond flopped backwards to the floor, exhausted. With the clarity his release brought, Diamond was left to dwell on the ramifications of what he’d just done. Well, that’s it, he thought. I’m officially a terrible pony. The depth of his recent depravity surprised even him on reflection, and he resolved that this would be the end of… whatever it had been. He left the chest unlocked, though. *** Breakfast. Always one of Diamond’s favourite meals, today it would serve as an excellent distraction from the thoughts that had plagued him all night. Already the delicious smells of cooking were emanating from the kitchen, and Diamond couldn’t wait to see what their chef was preparing for him. “Morning, Diamond!” Shit. “Since when do you cook?” asked Diamond, trying very hard not to look at his mother. “Just because I don’t, doesn’t mean I can’t,” she snapped. “And with just you and me here for a while, one of us has to cook.” Diamond was doing his best not to stare at the way his mother’s flanks swayed as she moved about the kitchen. He was largely unsuccessful. “I could have done it.” Filthy Rich laughed. “You can’t even make toast.” She turned and winked at him, and although it was clearly just to show she was joking, Diamond Tiara couldn’t help but envisage it in a far more intimate context. It was as if she was going out of her way to make it all worse for him. “Though,” she continued, “you can help if you’d like.” “I thought I couldn’t even make toast?” His mother grinned. “No, but I can’t do much better.” *** As it turned out, Filthy Rich hadn’t been exaggerating her ineptitude in the culinary arts. After two attempts that had reduced their food to ash, they had contented themselves with, appropriately, toast. They’d still had to scrape the burnt parts off. Diamond bit into his with a particularly loud crunch. “Don’t laugh,” his mother warned, stifling her own giggles. “I’m not laughing. I’m wanting our cook back.” “Is it really that bad?” she asked, quietly. When Diamond looked up he wasn’t expecting the honest hurt in his mother’s eyes. “It’s… edible?” He made sure to grin after, showing her it was a joke, but she only responded with a weak smile. “I’m sorry, I know it’s awful. Still, that’s why we hire ponies for it, right? And…” She sighed. “I’m sorry about yesterday, too.” “It’s fine.” Apparently it wasn’t, as Filthy Rich seemed on the verge of tears. “Thank you for understanding, Diamond. I’ll make it up to you.” She sniffed, and then her smile was back as if it had never left, the only hint that things were amiss in the form of a slight shine in her eyes. And when she left the room, she planted a single kiss on Diamond’s forehead. Normally he’d have shied away, but not today. Today it was too important to brush off. *** Diamond Tiara couldn’t sleep. Oh, he’d tried, but just as he began to drift his mother’s photos would flash in his mind, or the crushed look she’d given him that morning. And each time he started back awake his bed felt hotter than it had done before. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you. If you wanted to see me like that, all you had to do was ask. Diamond kicked off his covers for the millionth time, pressing a hoof to his head as if he could shove out the intrusive thoughts. If only it were that easy. This wasn’t working. He needed a distraction, something stupid and menial to take his mind off it. A walk. Yes, why not? Perhaps when he returned his bed would have cooled to the point where he could sleep – not that he felt tired anymore. Lifting his door as usual, Diamond stepped silently into the corridor. And then his ears snapped upright. At first he wasn’t sure he’d heard it, it was so faint. But then it came again, another impassioned moan, quiet and muffled. And there was only one pony who could be making it. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. A silent mantra Diamond paid absolutely no heed to as he stepped towards his mother’s room. No, stop. What are you doing? What are you doing, Diamond?  He crept further down the corridor, staying as quiet as he could as his mother’s moans grew louder. Her door was ajar, just enough for somebody to peek around, and Diamond knew there was no way he could resist. Filthy Rich lay on her bed, on her back, eyes screwed tightly shut, a hoof between her back legs. The other clutched at her bedsheets, occasionally letting go to wander over the rest of her body as she writhed under her own caress. Her hips bucked gently against her touch, hind legs shaking, tail swishing and flicking as she let out the loudest moan yet. Diamond could smell her excitement from the other side of the room, and its effect was almost instantaneous; his arousal pressing up against his stomach as it had done in the attic. But now the attic seemed very far away, the pictures he had found nothing compared to the quivering mare before him. The way his mother was facing made it impossible to see between her legs – his view only just blocked by her flanks. And Diamond couldn’t let that be it; he had to see it all now he was here, he couldn’t fight the urge. He pushed the door open a little further, only the slightest nudge, but immediately he knew he’d made a mistake. It creaked. His mother’s eyes opened, and for a second they were the perfect image of lust: half-lidded and slightly hazy, as if she was barely taking in her surroundings. It lasted only a moment, because as soon as she recognised Diamond they sprung wide, a strangled yelp accompanying her flailing panic as she scooted up the bed and away from him, trying and failing to pull the covers up to hide herself. “Diamond!?” Diamond froze on the threshold, pinned in place. His legs didn’t work, didn’t even acknowledge him trying to move them as his mother stared at him, her eyes wide and panicked. He couldn’t speak, either. Couldn’t find any words to alleviate the thick tension in the air, to explain or apologise, because even now he wasn’t sorry. Not in the slightest. His mother’s mane was messed and ruffled, tousled strands hanging over her face and making her even more unbearably alluring as she panted slightly from the earlier excitement she couldn’t quite bury. Normally she always wore her mane tied back, and the sight only made the stiffness beneath Diamond grow even more insistent despite being caught red-hoofed. She’d had it untied in the photos as well. And then, as if things couldn’t get any worse, his mother glanced down. It was only for a fraction of a second, but it was enough to see the reaction her unintentional display had given her son. “Diamond…” she whispered, and if her eyes could have grown larger than the saucers they were already, he was sure they would have. The covers dropped, her grip on them loosening as this new revelation struck her, revealing to him once again her round flanks. Diamond wanted to run, to turn and flee and hope they’d never speak of this again, but the moment he saw the curves of her hips he knew that was impossible. His eyes slid down her body, away from her shocked face and past her chest, lower and lower even as he willed himself to stop, while he still could. And of course she saw him looking, clasping her legs together under his gaze. “Diamond, this is… I…” “You don’t have to stop,” said Diamond, quietly. What are you doing? The still rational part of Diamond’s mind surfaced, fighting for control, trying to save him from the unsalvageable damnation his lust was throwing him into. “Wh-what?” “You don’t have to stop.” More firmly this time, drowning out the little voice that cried out for him to stop fucking this up even more. There was no room for protests, not now, and Diamond took a single, tentative step towards his mother, testing the waters. She didn’t retreat. “But… This is…” “This is what?” Diamond cut in, before taking another step. He was halfway across her room now, blood rushing in his ears as he tried to keep up the air of confidence. Inside he still felt like bolting at any second. “It’s… We can’t…” He took another step, and still Filthy Rich didn’t back away, or even tense up. She lay there, as she had been, startled but not afraid. Not disgusted. “Do you want me to go?” he asked. His mother said nothing, staring wordlessly at her son as he drew closer and closer. Diamond delighted in the occasional instances her eyes flicked downwards – she was trying so hard not to, but he caught her looking every time. He reached the foot of the bed, her body right in front of him, irresistible. Filthy Rich trembled as he took one of her hindlegs in his hooves and touched his lips to her skin. She was so hot against him, and he relished the little gasp she made as he began to work his way further up. From this close he could smell her lingering excitement, her hips jolting every now and then as his kisses moved closer, but rather than rush it he moved past her waist, climbing onto the bed as he continued over her chest, muzzle pressing into her soft fur. He moved over her as he did so, his warmth meeting hers and melting together. When at last he reached his mother’s face she was almost breathless again, her eyes staring at him no longer with surprise but with helpless desire. And then, finally, he kissed her. They had kissed in the past, of course, but it had always been her instigating them. Motherly kisses, usually on a cheek that Diamond furiously wiped with a hoof after. And even they had become less frequent as he grew older. Now he kissed her; a rough, instinctual, burning kiss that shrunk their worlds down to them and nothing else. Two ponies together, with nothing mattering except that the kiss would continue, that their affections would last. Diamond broke it first. Part of him hated doing it, and as he pulled back his mother kept her eyes closed, mouth still slightly open as she ran her tongue over her lips. When she opened them Diamond saw the pleading in them, all hints of reservation cast away. And he was all too happy to take her. First to her neck, brushing his teeth against her skin as well, threatening tiny nips but never quite doing so as her hooves slid around him and trailed slowly and aimlessly over his back, clutching his fur after every teasing half-bite. Down, down, back over her chest, his mother’s hooves moving to play through Diamond’s mane. And then her grip on his head tightened, pushing him down the last few inches in a silent demand: Do it. Do it now because I can’t bear waiting any longer. As much as Diamond wanted to continue teasing her, his mother left no room for disagreement, and now he was buried between her legs, her musky scent filling him with every intake of breath. Slowly, oh so slowly, he ran his tongue up along her folds, savouring both her taste and the way she shuddered at the stimulation he had denied her for so long. He pressed deeply into her, licking in long strokes as she closed her legs around his head, locking him in place between them. No longer holding back, his mother’s moans spurred him on as he delved ever deeper, sometimes moving to pay attention to her sensitive nub, but never for too long. Just long enough that his withdrawal afterwards was both a relief and all too soon, not quite enough to sate her but a reprieve from the waves of bliss that assaulted her when he toyed with her there. Diamond had never had a mare so responsive to his ministrations, so wet and excited by his tongue’s wanderings, bucking into his muzzle every time he pressed into her, wanting – needing – him to go faster and further and deeper. He could have pretended it wasn’t his mother in front of him, that it was any mare in the world, but Diamond didn’t. Instead, he delighted in the fact, and his mother made it clear she was doing the same. “Diamond…” she breathed, though it was almost a moan in itself. “Don’t stop. Oh Celestia, don’t you dare stop.” As if he would. As if he’d stop even if the legs curled tightly around him would let him. His tongue pressed deeply into her now, no longer merely gliding over her entrance but delving into her fiery hot depths. Her taste filled his mouth, her scent all he could smell, every sense overwhelmed with nothing but his mother, who writhed and almost screamed in pure ecstasy as he pushed her right to the edge and then over. She tightened around nothing as she came, twitching and gasping and pushing Diamond’s face down as if he could go any further. He didn’t stop his motions as she cried out, swirling his tongue around her and making the fire that tore through her all the more fierce and all-consuming. When at last her climax subsided, Filthy Rich gave a final shudder and then dropped back, her legs around Diamond’s neck only now releasing their vice-like grip. Movement restored, Diamond climbed above her once more, their lips meeting in another kiss, this time full of the taste of her. His mother didn’t seem to care. Already breathless from her earlier exertion, she had to take several deep gasps when they broke apart, and then, eyes warmer and happier than Diamond had seen them for a long time, she looked up at him and smiled. It quickly turned mischievous as she felt his length pressing against her stomach, desperate for attention. “So impatient,” she muttered, in between nuzzles against his cheek, tensing beneath him as Diamond nipped at her neck. And then, in no more than the quietest whisper: “I’m ready.” Without a word, Diamond slid down her body a little, resting himself just before her entrance. As he aligned himself, Diamond had one last surge of doubt, one last moment of indecision; the small, niggling part of his mind warning him that things could never be the same after this, that there was no going back. One look at his mother in front of him, eyes filled with lust, lips slightly parted as she took deep, excited pants, was enough to crush those doubts instantly. Things wouldn’t ever be the same again, of course they wouldn’t, and in that moment Diamond couldn’t have cared less. And then he pushed forwards, so slowly not just for her benefit but because he wanted to savour every moment to its fullest. Diamond gave a low grunt as she welcomed him in, tightening around his now-slick shaft, trying to pull him deeper while he held himself back. His mother’s hooves dug into his shoulders, dragging over his skin with almost enough fervour to leave marks. Their hips met, pressing softly together as he hilted inside of her, every part of him encompassed by his mother’s warmth. And for a second or so they lay like that, Diamond’s length twitching and sending anticipatory shivers through Filthy Rich as he collected himself. He looked up into his mother’s eyes, taking immeasurable comfort in the love he found there. If anyone ever found out about this they wouldn’t understand; they could never understand how the look she gave him now proved that nothing in this world could be more right than this. And then he made her eyes slam shut, made her bite her lip to keep from crying out, made her shudder as he pulled back, her body quivering beneath him at his sudden movement. She was so sensitive, every slight motion sending another ripple through her, eliciting another caught breath, a muffled gasp. When he thrust back into her it was a wonder she kept herself under control as well as she did. That wasn’t saying much, though; Filthy Rich crying out in bliss as Diamond rutted her, finally taking his prize and taking every bit of it he could. Her moans echoed loudly through the room, the bed beneath them creaking as Diamond took her, her legs spread all for him. Only for him. She had given herself completely, and Diamond took all he could, giving a small grunt of his own as her marehood tightened around him. They had become one, a single entity of writhing limbs and heat and sweat and the sound of Diamond’s hips smacking against hers and oh fuck how he loved it when she clenched around him like that. Each time he buried himself inside her she would shudder and whimper in delight, and now she pulled his head down, dragging him into another forceful kiss, Diamond only slowing a little as she did so. “Dia- Ah! Nnn…” Diamond knew his mother had been trying to say something more than just his name, but he had no intention of letting her finish. It was far better to watch the hot flush fill her face as she tried to speak but couldn’t, Diamond’s efforts all too much to allow her. But he wanted more, needed more. Diamond leant back, raising his mother’s hindlegs so that they came to rest on his shoulders, holding up her rear before sliding her down onto him again, this time as quickly as he could. Filthy Rich could only clutch at her bedsheets and throw back her head as Diamond resumed, reaching far deeper than he had before. Diamond’s hooves grasped her hips, using them as leverage to push into her, feeling the first tingles of anticipation fill him. It was too soon, he couldn’t let go yet, but his mother seemed intent on making that difficult for him. Everything she did, from the way she pawed helplessly against her covers, or tossed her mane about so that it splayed behind her, drove him closer and closer. Even the shrill cries of her own pleasure felt tailored for him, as if she knew it would drive him to the brink. And they were working, oh how they were working. But she was close too, he could feel it. His thrusts, growing erratic now, were met with faster and louder moans, drawn-out shudders answering every one. And when he at last threw her over the metaphorical edge, her orgasm slamming through her, Diamond was right behind her. His mother’s exultations were joined by his own gasping breaths as he came, shooting into her waiting body, each spurt accompanied by a twitch of his length inside her, only making her cry out even more as the waves of her second climax crashed over her. After a final, shaky thrust, Diamond pulled out, slumping down beside her in an exhausted, satisfied heap. When strength returned to him, Diamond wrapped his limbs around his mother, and she happily snuggled into his embrace. He tried to say something, he didn’t really know what, but she kissed him one last time to silence him before burying herself in his chest. And Diamond didn’t mind that. No, he decided, his mother’s form curled against his own, her breathing slowing as tiredness overtook her – he didn’t mind that one bit. *** The room was still, though Filthy Rich liked to imagine she could still hear the faint echoes of their earlier lovemaking. Certainly she could in her head, the sensations burned into her mind. A kick shoved off the covers that had already been resigned to nothing but her hooves; the room was warm enough that they weren’t needed, not with Diamond’s sleeping form wrapped around her own. Oh Diamond. She trailed a hoof slowly over his foreleg, and he sighed quietly, shifting and holding her tighter. It sent a warmth rising up through her chest, a hot ball of happiness that someone was sharing her bed again, someone so close to her that she could love absolutely. And it had been so easy. You’re so predictable, Diamond. All it took was telling you NOT to do something. She smiled as he nestled closer, that sleep that welcomed her no longer so lonely, so bleak. A mother and her son, alone with everything they had given each other.