Reaching Out
She was Fleur Lumineuse, graduate from Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, a two-time finalist in Equestria's Center Regional gymnastics and a hopeful for a third, and daughter of Fancy Pants and Fleur de Lis—respectively a political powerhouse and a world-renowned model. Now here she was squaring herself up on a stoop outside of a pale yellow row house. Her anticipation had made the walk over difficult enough, but now facing the plain brass knocker on a paneled oak door had her nerves playing a truly discordant tune. No matter how capable she should be, she did not quite feel ready.
A deep breath in and out to steady her hooves on the welcome mat, and she lit up her horn, the lavender glow that matched her eyes lightly tinting the light from the lamp over the door. She stretched out her will and grasped the knocker with a thought, tapping the door smartly. Now all she had to do was wait. At the sound of somepony approaching the door she ran down a quick checklist: mane and tail in order, coat lustrous, fashionable shawl wrapped neatly around her neck and withers, stance confident, chin up and attentive, and a small smile on her lips.
She just had to remember to be patient.
The door opened with barely a squeak to reveal a forest-green unicorn with a short-cut ash-blue mane, a formal collar around his neck, and his coat bearing the faint sheen of recent care. Hyperic Cable. Her date, if tonight could be called such. His golden eyes passed over her sea-foam-colored form, and she could not help relishing the way they widened just so. A stallion's appreciation was one of the finer things in life, after all.
"Hello, Hyperic."
"H-hey, Fleur." His eyes did not take full part in his smile. "Come on in."
There was a faint hint of something fresh in the air as she passed by him and into the apartment proper. A dark wood table with worn edges guarded the opening into the living area, and she noted most everything looked similarly well-used though cared for. It was also a smaller space than she preferred, but she supposed that it could be called cozy.
"Thanks. And thank you for accepting my invitation. I know it could not have been an easy decision." She flashed a smile over her withers at him.
Something unpleasant crossed his face, and her heart clenched. "It... was not." He let a deep breath out through his nose. "But that's why we're here, right? Though before you get too settled I-I wanted to run an idea by you. If that's alright of course."
A change of plans? She had told friends what she was doing this evening just in case, but this... Patience was the key, she told herself. She could always refuse.
"S-so I know we agreed to have dinner here, at my place, but I thought that a restaurant might be a better idea."
Her ears perked as she moved out of his way. "You have one in mind?"
"Yeah. The Vista."
It was prominent and well-frequented, so her worries saw themselves out. She had even been there before. It was wonderful if you were a pegasus — or able to brave the seemingly precarious perch on the edge of the city over the valley far below. But it was also expensive. And...
"They require reservations, you know," she offered gently.
"I do." His head dipped as he cast his eyes down for a moment. "I, um, actually set all that up earlier today. I've been thinking a lot about this, and I don't think I'll really be in the mood to cook once we get started."
"I understand." Truth be told, if she were in his place she was sure she would feel the same. She tilted her head as one last problem begged for attention. "A restaurant will also be less private. Are you sure?"
"No. I'm... I'm not sure about any of this. But they did promise me a private booth."
Her heart went out to him. She also knew the restaurant had some more secluded options on the city side, so that was good.
"Oh, umm. I also did not bring any money with me. I mean I was expect—"
"It's alright. I don't spend a lot otherwise so I can splurge."
Normally she would not have quibbled, but in this case it just did not seem fair to make him pay for everything. It had been difficult enough consenting to him cooking for he,r but that had been a compromise for his comfort. Now he was going to outright pay for everything?
But the expression on his face was just as determined. Stallions would be stallions, she sighed. And it would not be good to start off the evening with a fight, especially if he just really wanted to play the gentlestallion.
"Fine, fine. I suppose I can let you pay. But..." She caught herself open-mouthed, not quite sure where she was going with this. How this evening ended was still too up in the air to be making promises for the future. "Ahhhh, never mind. What time are the reservations?" It was a weak cover for her gaffe, and he probably knew it.
"We, um, should actually go now. We have some time, but it wouldn't be a good idea to waste it."
It was strange to be going back out the door and down the steps so soon after arriving, but she put it out of her mind as he locked up. A smile came to her easily enough when he joined her on the sidewalk, despite a part of her filling with uneasy anticipation. If nothing else, she could be outwardly pleasant.
As the two of them meandered through the city, passing by businesses and residences great and small—though united frequently by a theme of white and gold—and through leisurely-dispersing late day throngs, she endeavored to enjoy the moment. The evening was lovely, tinting the buildings in shades that drifted from pale oranges to pinks, and eventually to lavenders. She gave silent thanks to the princesses for it.
The silence that insulated them from the rest of the crowds was gratingly boring though. She craved more. Hesitation kept her peace well-held, so she turned all her attention on their surroundings, which naturally led her back to the stallion beside her.
His were not the strong, angular features and easy confidence that she normally looked for, but he was far from bad-looking, if she were honest with herself. He was just lean enough to appear fit, yet in a way that spoke of natural activity rather than a regimen of exercise. Given that he worked as a skyship maintainer at the docking pylons, he probably had a healthy strength despite lacking real definition. In fact, with the way he had busted the door at the hangar with his hind hoof after their second botched meeting, she knew he did.
So she could appreciate the differences between her usual dates and him. She could also appreciate that now was not the time to upset him if she could help it, so she stayed close enough to be walking with him, but not so much that it might be distressing. Even so, he was uneasily quiet and vaguely stiff, glancing at her sidelong every now and again. It was awkward and worrisome, and very much a mirror of that first awful night when they had met. She reminded herself that he did not mean anything by it, but neither could she stand to do nothing the entire way to the restaurant.
"A bit for your thoughts."
He flinched. "Ahhh... You're really pretty tonight." His mouth clamped shut with distinct finality, his ears folding back as the green of his coat deepened.
The awkwardness, the delivery, and most of all the level of earnestness was just too adorable, and she could not help laughing. It rang out crisp and joyful for a moment but its effect on him was profound. He did his best to turn red, and needed a few steps to recover a steady gait.
"Thank you! It's nice to know my efforts are appreciated." She let that feeling carry her through a light toss of her mane, showing off her elegant neck. Attempting some friendly appreciation with a light shoulder bump found only air as he neatly sidestepped, adding incrementally to the space between them.
She tried desperately to prevent her ears from matching his, flat against his head. What had her uncle said? Foal steps? It had been something along those lines. She cursed her foolishness for her unthinking leap, no matter how innocuous it should have been. Meeting his eyes was not difficult, but the stare that lingered for just a little too long brought up old reservations that she struggled to quell.
"Sorry. I didn't mean..."
He turned his head away. It was like a hoofslap, and her hackles bristled in response. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from saying more—something that would have been even worse. The evening was already beginning to spiral out of control, and it had barely begun. But she was committed to her mission. To her surprise the deep, calming breath she took was mirrored from beside her.
"It's... It's alright. You were, um, were just being friendly. And I appreciate it." For a moment the earnestness shone again from his eyes. "I really do."
"This isn't easy." Her grin was wry as she shared in the moment.
He opened his mouth but simply nodded. It became a slow shake that rattled his mane. "Yeah... I mean, no, it isn't. I, ummmm, I wanted to ask: what was it really that made you want to do this? I know you said you wanted to apologize, but you did that. This..." He waved a forehoof helplessly between steps as words failed him.
But she understood completely. She could have just apologized and left it at that; agreeing to spend an evening out with him was something more.
"Well, I was passing by this outdoor café, and there were a number of ponies there." She brought her chin up and tilted her head, keeping her tone light. "There was this one stallion that I had never seen before. He was there with some friends, talking about various things, and comparing and trading music. I remember him being so open, so animated. Even laughing and joking around!" She turned her head and met his eyes, but found only frustrating impassivity. "But when I approached he was already gone. I was hoping to meet him just once."
"It's, ummm, it's not that simple."
"I knew it wouldn't be. So," she continued on, hoping to find something better, "how have things been?"
His muzzle dropped low and reserved, but what followed was civil enough. He traded casual conversation about everything and nothing, filling the time with pleasant inanities. It was easy for her to get lost in everyday commentary on this or that—even if it was just the weather—and when he faltered, she had a ready supply to pick things back up. Her friends were endless sources of amusement after all, and she could talk about them all day. By the time they stood before the doorpony—a cream-colored pegasus stallion in a dapper grey half-coat—Hyperic was somewhat more animated, if only just.
Beyond the glass doors edged in pale wood, and etched with stylized versions of the restaurant's name, was the open, two-story entry hall. Flanking it were similarly pale embedded wooden columns, carved to resemble tree trunks. They flared at the ceiling, and an ornate series of carved branches supported the glass half-dome, making the room feel more like an atrium. A slightly darker podium at the far end drew attention to the middle-aged, faded-teal pegasus mare who greeted them with a warm smile. Behind her were a series of doors, the two in the center glass and wood much like those in the entry, while the outer were simple paneled affairs. Coat room, the terrace, interior seating, and staff access from left to right, if Fleur remembered correctly.
Hyperic's ears and tail twitched with apparent nervousness, but his voice was strong. "Hyperic Cable and Fleur Lumineuse, we have reservations for six thirty."
The host greeted them amicably and, after a quick once-over that made Hyperic fidget, engaged them in conversation. She knew of Fleur, and made mention that Fleur's father had visited the establishment recently, though Fleur could not place her name for the life of herself. This was not actually news, as her father organized a variety of functions, and had a particular fondness for the view afforded by the restaurant's terrace.
Hyperic remained uniformly tense during questions about the course of their evening, and Fleur found herself providing answers for the both of them. This clearly bothered Hyperic, but it still could not stop him from becoming distant from the conversation. Then, during a lull, and as though the entire sequence had been scripted, a white earth pony mare with amber mane and tail stepped through the door on their right. Fleur had to stop herself from gaping; their hornless and wingless brethren were much less common in the elevated and cantilevered metropolis, much less the outlying extensions that were even more distant from solid, safe ground.
"This is Dancer. She will see you inside. I hope you two have a wonderful meal!"
As they were led through the building Fleur kept an eye on her 'date.' The interior was done much as the entrance, though on a smaller scale. Finely wrought 'trees' spaced between each table supported the roof above, glass canopies interspersed between, with illumination cleverly hidden among the faux boughs like faerie lights. The succulent smells of sautéed vegetables, warm pastas, and more exotic spices teased her nose, and a soft din of conversation completed the enticing atmosphere. But in spite of all this, Hyperic's attention was ahead, though somewhat unfocused. He gradually closed himself off the closer their table became; it was like watching a gate shut in her face, and she felt a small but growing distress.
This would not do at all, she firmly told herself. Pre-competition jitters should not be a part of dinner.
They were brought to a booth formed by a trio of high-backed low couches, arranged around a thick, polished table so that two ponies could comfortably rest together on the longer back one, or across from each other on the shorter end ones. Naturally she and Hyperic took to the opposing couches. While she expected further hesitation, strangely enough Hyperic smiled and talked animatedly as Dancer took their opening requests.
Just as Dancer was about to leave Hyperic's head popped back up. "We're going to want some, um, privacy here, okay?"
Dancer stopped and blinked a couple of times, her affability cracking as she struggled to catch up, mirroring how Fleur felt inside. "But of course, sir. You requested a private table, so you have no fear of interruptions." She motioned to either side with her muzzle at the space between their table and its nearest neighbors.
Hyperic's eyes followed the motion, and he dropped his own muzzle. "Th-thank you. Um, very good then."
Something flickered across his face when Dancer wished them a happy dinner together. He practically buried his nose in his menu as Dancer walked away, her tail swishing with the motion of her haunches. Fleur would have expected some sort of attention from any stallion, no matter how pretty she herself was, but there was not so much of a twitch in his folded ears. The whole scene just felt surreal.
"What was that all about?"
Hyperic's eyes shot up, and then dropped back down. "I, ummm... I don't know."
"Well, okay then," she giggled in spite of herself. Her companion's impassive stare was a shot of cold water to the back though. The menu became more interesting as she tried to switch gears. She might as well start off on the reason they were both here.
"So, have your coworkers given you any trouble?"
"No."
That was not much to go on. "I didn't mean for things to end that way," she prompted gently.
"I know, you apologized."
The sort of off-hoof pushback brought resistance to her own spine. "Look, if we're going to do this, then we need to do this. If you're just going to sit there, and give me nothing to go on, then why...?" The hoof clamped to her mouth was necessary to prevent her from doing even worse.
Hyperic recoiled, his face still pointed toward his menu. Even from this angle she could see the muscles along his jaw working at cross purposes. "I'm trying to think, alright?" For a moment, when his eyes met hers, she saw fire. "I didn't get any time to when you had me pulled from fixing your sky skimmer, and you saw how well that went. I tried to leave and give myself a moment, but 'cause you got my boss involved he couldn't let me. Not since there might be some kind of problem between a client and one of his employees. When Aileron called me out I had to spill right then and there." She knew; she had been present. "I... sorry, I don't... I may need some time if I'm not just going to blow up again, okay?"
She nodded carefully, turning her attention to her own menu, but keeping him in the upper edges of her vision. Her choice was not hard, since she did not feel like agonizing over what to pick; everything on the menu would be delicious, so she went with something that only her mother could pronounce. That should make it particularly good.
"To answer your question, they're curious, but I've asked them not to bug me about it." He was still poring over the selections beneath his muzzle. "Only Aileron knows, and he understands how personal it all is."
"Do they hate me?"
"I, ummm, don't think they like you," he ventured cautiously, and her heart sank.
A long silence stretched, and she spent the time just watching him, trying to decide how to go about everything. He, noticing her attention, only became more tense. Dancer popping up again to ask about their meal choices was a welcome reprieve, giving them both something else to concentrate on. This time, as Dancer was leaving, Hyperic showed that he was not completely oblivious, though Fleur was careful to hide her amusement at his supposedly surreptitious glance by taking a sip of her water.
The two of them alone again, she made up her mind. It might fly in the face of his earlier request, but she was tired of dancing around the issues she wanted to get to. "Is that what happened at the club?" His head came up, brows tightly knit at her sudden question. "What I mean is that you weren't, ummm—" she tapped a forehoof lightly against her lips, "—you just weren't prepared. I remember you were really tense and kind of... kind of, I don't know, evasive? I think that's what first really, um, worried me."
His face hardened for a second before relaxing as he dropped his eyes again. "Yeah. Paver convinced me to go out with him and his friends. I figured that I should because, well, it was different for me, and who knows, maybe I'd meet a mare. I didn't think it was any more than a fantasy, really, so I was just going to spend the night with friends." He brought a forehoof up and waved it aimlessly while struggling with his words. "And then, after chatting up a group of mares, Paver comes by and drops one of the prettiest—"
A furious blush stopped him cold. She ignored a little flare of happiness, gently urging him on with a nod of her muzzle.
"He, um, just kind of dropped you next to me."
"I know, I was there. And I know what you mean. Slipstream, Saffron, Pitch, and I were talking with this friendly, tall—" she stopped herself from further voicing her feelings on Paver's good looks, "—unicorn. Then suddenly he tells me to talk to the quiet unicorn hanging out in the corner. He just breaks us up and sits me next to a stallion who didn't look like he wanted to say two words to me. I kind of understand, because he wanted to hang out with Saffron, but still."
"It's not that at all," was whispered from across the table. He looked up, his voice gaining strength. "I had no idea what to say."
"What do you mean? You just talk." She met his eyes earnestly as his got colder. "Kind of like we're doing now but, you know, just about stuff. Like you would with any of your friends."
His head shook in vehement denial. "But it's more than that! You have to... I wanted to make a good impression, but couldn't think of a way to do that. It was already bad enough with tons of ponies around. Then when you sat down it was even worse—"
"You were nervous?"
""Ummmm... Yeah. I wanted to do everything right, but couldn't think how. Not knowing just made it worse! And of course once I was nervous, I just ended up more so, making it even harder to do anything useful!"
"So, you weren't twitchy—" She regretted her word choice even before he flinched. "Ummmm, you were scared?" He nodded, mouth set and eyes boring into her own. "And... And... And is it like this all the time?"
His whole demeanor flipped over, his head dropping down and to the side as he averted his eyes. "Yes." It was quiet and defeated.
The sudden shift left her scrambling to piece her own thoughts together; she had expected a stronger rebuttal. Stallions stood up and snapped back, they did not fold like that. She mentally stepped away from the line she had been toeing, reassessing and wishing that she had asked her uncle about how he handled arguments. Was he as manic too?
"Is that...," she pressed with as gentle a tone as she could manage. "Is that why you said what you did at the hangar? About never being with a mare, and why you called yourself..." Should she? "...pathetic. You're always scared?"
"I've never even had a real fillyfriend." It was said with all the feeling of a bell tolling for a funeral.
"But... But you're like in your thirties! Right?!" She did not need his nod to confirm the answer given when he shrank in on himself, eyes still averted. For a long moment her brain struggled to wrap itself around that information. He was a few years older than she; it did not seem possible.
"Are you sure you're not, like, into stallions?"
It was an extremely thoughtless question now, of all times, and she was not surprised when his head snapped up, fire flaring behind his eyes. But the answer was also pertinent! He might have never considered that he was making it harder on himself by trying to be something that he wasn't! Now, as her back pressed into the rear of her couch, she found herself facing the same frightening pony that she had once forced into a humiliating confrontation before his own boss—the same incident that had led to her apology and the offer of this not-date.
"I don't dream about stallions at night." His voice was eerily level.
Uncomfortable silence fell over them, like an annoying acquaintance that Fleur wished she could just tell to shove off. Again Dancer showed up, gently depositing the first of their food with a smile that clashed with the clinging atmosphere. When the mare gave them a concerned once-over, Fleur returned as comforting a smile as she could manage. Hyperic was still there and things were still civil enough, if balanced on a razor's edge, so Dancer need not worry herself. Like before, the earth pony disappeared a moment later, leaving Fleur to wonder about the efficacy of her timing.
She turned her attention to the steaming food before her, intent on taking a moment to think. As her fork levitated above her plate, trying to decide the proper way to disturb the chef's efforts, she brought her eyes cautiously back up. Hyperic was equally as intent on his own plate as she had been. What he had said last was niggling at the back of her thoughts, but there did not seem to be a safe way to satisfy her morbid curiosity.
Patience, her uncle had said, and also to be gentle. Aunt Carmine, on the other hoof, had looked her in the eyes and advised persistence since, it was what had apparently won over her shy uncle. It was not as though she was trying to win over Hyperic in the same way, but neither did she want to give up on making amends.
"Hyperic," she ventured softly, waiting for his attention to continue, "you said in your boss's office that you had never been with a... with a mare. But you actually meant that you've never even had a fillyfriend?" Again, the way he withdrew into himself made verbal confirmation unnecessary. "I don't... How can you not have had a single fillyfriend?"
"It just... never happened."
That did not make any sense to her; it could not. How could anypony have gone so long without a significant other? For a pony like herself, always interacting and mingling—and always with somepony, or likely soon to be—it was unthinkable. And yet he had gone decades!
"But... I, ummm... How?!" It was the best articulation she could manage.
"I've never even been on a date, that's how." Fleur was kept well off balance by how plainly he stated that. "Unless you count summer year prom in high—"
"You went to prom?" Her hoof flew to her mouth, trying to vainly to cover up her blurt. He blinked right back at her long enough for her thoughts to catch back up. "Yes, I would count that. What happened?"
"Nothing. We were really good friends for years, but outside of prom—and she asked me, not the other way around—she never responded when I asked her to if she wanted to hang out. And I used the same stupid lines too." He finally looked up, raising his chin and softly calling in derisive sing-song, "You're really pretty!" A heavy sigh followed. "She told me not to. I never figured out whether she was embarrassed, or just didn't like it from me. Prom was alright, and I thought that would be it, but some time later she told me it wasn't worth the effort to teach me how to be a suitable coltfriend."
The cold evenness of his voice was so striking that Fleur was too stunned for words. She would have expected that any pony, relating the same experience, would have exploded into fury. And not a couple minutes after having nearly done exactly that, he wasn't.
"That's awful." She meant it with every ounce of her heart. "And I'm sorry to hear it, but surely there's more. One filly in high school can't... can't have been your only, um, female friend!" And she meant that too.
He shifted uneasily while passing a slow look around the restaurant. When he finally made it back to the table his eyes were cold, his tone low and unnerving. "Oh, yes, there were. But my sisters' friends who were all too young when it would have mattered. There was the filly I should have asked out, but didn't because I was distracted by the one I went to prom with. In college there was a really pretty one who approached me, but I was too terrified to talk to until it was too late. There was a cheerleader, the filly from across the hall who randomly crawled into my bed one night, but I kicked out."
She opened her mouth, but he kept going right over her, his voice gaining strength.
"There's the one I hooked up with a friend, and the one who didn't want to date me because she would rather concentrate on her career. And now I work in a job that not many mares want to do, and our clients are primarily rich, older, and taken ponies. I live where I do because it's cheap, but there aren't many mares, much less any that I'd actually want to date." His eyes came up to meet hers, but drifted beneath her gaze a moment later. "Most of my friends are like me, and don't really like to go out to clubs and things. I think I'm friends with only like three mares, and they're all married to friends. I... I-I don't think I could have separated myself from female contact any better if I'd tried.
"It happened because I'm shy, and terrified of screwing up. No mare wants a stallion like that! And now I'm that, plus lonely and sometimes depressed about it, completely inexperienced, lacking in self-confidence, and desperate. Why would I want to subject any mare to that?"
The wake of his tirade was somehow more deafening than the rant itself, though his voice had not risen that far, and she found her eyes drifting across their surroundings, much like his had not long ago. Dread built in the pit of her stomach as she searched the nearby tables, but at least none of the visible ponies seemed to be paying any attention. When her eyes settled back on the stallion across the table, he was grimly stuffing a morsel into his mouth, his return stare cold. There was a flicker of something harsher before he broke away to watch what his fork was listlessly doing with his food.
She almost unconsciously began chewing on her lip while considering him and all the excess information he had shoveled onto her. How he had gone from answering her question to such a self-deprecating description, she was not sure. Yet it told her so much.
Here was a stallion who had never been told yes. A stallion who, considering his reactions, was also exceptionally sensitive. Her aunt had said that her uncle was similar, and that some things simply hit him really hard. If Hyperic was like that then it was no stretch of imagination that these minor failures felt more like major losses to him. She relaxed backward into the couch, a mixture of pity and shame welling up over her part in all of this as a new, softer appreciation came over her.
And yet, at the same time, his experiences had been pretty tame. "Hyperic, look, I know it hurts, but you have to know that things aren't that bad."
His head came up, but his muzzle stayed low and guarded, a faint frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. She returned a small smile, and one she did her best to make comfortingly soft.
"My first coltfriend lasted all of a month before I caught him wrapped around another filly. They were just down from my locker too, so he clearly didn't care that I was going to find out." She remembered being inconsolable at the time, but it was just so long ago now. "I had one in college who was with me for almost a year, but the moment I, um—" she could not stop from shifting uncomfortably, "—had a late scare, he was gone without even an apology. I've lost a couple to friends, and even had one tell everypony everything he thought was wrong with me, because he wanted to get back at me."
She leaned forward and inched her head closer, keeping a gentle hold on his eyes. "Some ponies have been through much worse. You're making this out to be a much bigger deal than it is. It's not some epic quest, it's just showing a mare that you care, and then asking her to let you show her."
A deeper frown was not the reaction she had hoped for. "What you're not understanding is that it's not that easy."
"What do you mean?" Her demeanor faltered at his almost casual refusal. It was almost like he had not listened to anything she just said.
"Ummmmmm," he mused to himself, settling back a little, "do you have any phobias?"
That brought her head up, and she gave him a thoroughly incredulous look. "You're going to honestly tell me you have a phobia of mares?!"
"I, uhhhh... Yes and no." That did not make any sense! "Are you scared of spiders?"
"Yes, but..."
"Stop being scared of them."
She gaped at him while he patiently waited for her to answer. "You— I can't just... That's different! Spiders are nasty with all those legs and biting things. I don't know where they are, or what they're going to do, and they might really hurt me!"
He nodded slowly, like he had expected exactly that answer.
"I get scared when I don't know what I'm doing—like really scared. And with mares it's worse because I really need to make a good first impression, but I don't know how to do that, and they can hurt me in ways I can't handle. Then it, umm, then it all just feeds off itself, and I get more scared the more scared I am." He accented his point by twirling his forehooves around themselves. "It just gets harder and harder to think and act right, and a nervous stallion is only cute—" a derisive snort followed as he rolled his eyes, "—if the mare already likes you!" Even after he finally shut his mouth, he silently challenged her with his eyes.
"That's... irrational."
"Oh, I know, but—"
"Of course no mare is going to want a stallion that just gives up!" She had not meant to sound so harsh, but his defeatism was digging deeply under her coat. "I've been through some bad relationships, but I got over them. If you want my advice, it sounds like you need to... to... to buck up, and just get over yourself!"
Clapping her hooves over her mouth could not take the words back, no matter how hard she wished to rewind and rethink. Her just reward was watching with painfully wide eyes as he withdrew in on himself, setting his jaw to a grim line. The flattened ears and searing glare only added to her fears, and she flinched when his horn lit with a pale green glow, but the expected strike did not come. Instead his bit pouch flew to his side. Then he slipped off the couch, leaving a trail of heavy hoof-falls away through the faux trees and toward the entrance.
Staring after him, she found herself completely at a loss, her mouth working silently over a protestation she was unprepared to voice. Her words may have been harsh, but they had also not been wrong; he really did need to buck up. But she had never meant for him to leave. This evening was supposed to allow her to make everything right!
And had she really just been stormed out on? By a stallion?
That realization brought another icy shot of reality with it. With Hyperic gone she had no means to pay for the food. She, daughter of two prominent members of the city's high society, was going to have to welch on dinner at The Vista, of all places. Her muzzle dropped as she halfheartedly poked her remaining food with a fork.
"Is everything alright, Miss Lumineuse?"
Her head snapped up, nearly flailing Dancer in the face with her mane. Fleur had not heard the earth pony approaching, but now found her barely a foreleg's length away. The mare's pale teal eyes were a perfect match for the concern that had infused her words. Fleur did not much feel like accepting the gentle warmth of being comforted, especially not when she was sure this mare would be throwing her out in short order.
Though perhaps her family's name could help. Her father was in good standing with the restaurant, and that surely counted for something. She would gladly pay them back when she did have the money.
"I saw your date leaving, um, in a state. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"No, I... Look..." The words did not seem to want to come on their own. "I'm sorry, but there isn't any—"
There was movement behind Dancer. A shape slunk around one of the near trees to reveal a forest green unicorn, his head and ears shooting up when his eyes caught the two mares conferring closely. There was no hiding Fleur's own shock, and Dancer quickly sidestepped to learn what she was looking at. The combined attention made Hyperic pause even longer, every line in his body rigid with tension, but eventually he took a step forward. Then another. Each exactingly cautious motion forward brought his head a little lower, like some great weight was gradually bearing down, and by the time he reached Dancer his head was just barely above the line of his withers. Then, with one last furtive glace at the white mare, his ears folded fully and he eased himself back onto his couch.
While Hyperic was getting into a comfortable position, Fleur's eyes sought Dancer's. The other mare raised one eyebrow in a clear question, but a twitch of Fleur's head told her all she should need to know, though for good measure she waved the mare off with a hoof just under the table edge, hidden from Hyperic. Dancer's hesitation was strikingly worrisome, and it was only by adding some silent pleading that she was finally convinced to give their table some more privacy. When the white mare finally disappeared from view, Hyperic laid his chin on the table and his whole body shuddered with a great sigh.
It was a very long moment before Fleur found her voice again. "You... You came back. Why?!"
His eyes rose, pitifully placid. "Paver thinks I'm insane, but I promised myself that I would do this—that I would see it through—if for no other reason than to at least get it out of the way." Another long exhale was let out through his nose. "I also realized that I'd left you with no money, and no way to pay. I, um, I just couldn't do it."
"Ummmm, I... Ummm..." She took a breath of her own, looking away for a second and hoping to find some inspiration in the meantime. Fortunately, she found some coherency returning to her thoughts. "You did not have to do that. I... I mean I understand, and I'm sure I would have been fine. You had every right to be upset."
His chin never leaving the table, he slid his head back and forth in denial.
"I knew tonight was going to be awkward," he said with a noticeable quaver. "I knew it was going to be painful. Embarrassing, pathetic, scary, hypocritical, and a whole lot of other things I never wanted to face." His eyes unfocused for a moment. "At least not rolled up into a neat little package and thrown at me all at once. But I had to. Even if it killed me, I had to. You've come the furthest through all the stupid walls I've spent a lifetime building, and you're the best chance I've had even if... even if the idea is probably horrible."
Inwardly she cringed, instinctively agreeing with his assessment.
Then the addition of a faint glimmer in the corners of his eyes drew her own like a candle in the dark. Faint tremors were working back and forth across his neck and withers, confirming the realization that threatened to sicken her: he, a grown stallion, looked about ready to cry in the middle of a restaurant because she had told him to grow a pair.
It was just a little bit pathetic.
Her horrified gasp could have drawn the attention of everypony in the building for all she cared.
First, there was the night at the night club when he had overheard her, ignorant that his awkwardness was born of deep shyness, complaining to Saffron about his pervasive creepiness. She would have expected any stallion to confront her, but he had fled instead, which only added to her mixed impression. Then, several days later when she learned that he would be in charge of repairing her sky skimmer, she had had him pulled out of fear that he would abuse her skimmer in retribution. When the concerned dock manager had cornered them both in his office, while attempting to get to the bottom of the issue, Hyperic had exploded into a humiliating airing of his failures with mares. And now there was tonight.
Hyperic was utterly convinced of being incapable and unworthy, a flaw that likely would repel any mare who got close enough to see it. The subsequent rejection would then only justify his beliefs and fuel them further. So much of what she had done played right to this tune, and she deserved any and all condemnation for having fallen into his defeatist, self-fulfilling prophecy. For proving that he was right.
Her eyes passed quickly around the room, seeking a solution that was not present. None of the tables, decor, food, nor even the distant ponies had an answer for what she should do. All she had was the stallion across from her. A stallion who was still repelling her in spite of her growing determination to not play along. A stallion who still looked like he might break down at any moment.
"A-Are you, um, alright?"
Again he shook his head without lifting it from the tabletop. "I've been... so hopped up on adrenaline all night," he said with a surprisingly blank tone. "It's..."
She initially waited for him to continue, but in the midst of that she blinked and cocked her head as something struck her. "Are you really that scared of me?"
His answer was to lift a forehoof. Her eyes latched onto it as it rose above the line of the tablecloth, vibrating with constant tremors. "I've been flying—" the same hoof waved toward the veranda, continuing to shake, "—nearly fallen off a mountain, survived a skimmer accident, narrowly avoided getting crushed by falling ship parts at work, and... and..." He finally sat back up, looking her directly in her eyes. "The scariest thing I've ever done was walking up and saying 'hi' to a filly I didn't know. Then... then there is tonight."
It still did not make a single bit of sense to her. He was not just scared, he was terrified. Of her, no less. But now knowing better what kind of pony he was, she could hardly have expected anything else after what she had put him through. There was a bitter heaviness in her core that she needed to alleviate, but unfortunately the restaurant around them still offered no answers.
However, the ruined dinner between them sparked half of an idea. "Well, um, how about we find something else to do? Something more... relaxed. Does that sound good?"
He blinked, his eyes narrowing to give her a deeply searching look. "You...? Ummmm... Like what?"
"Honestly? I don't really know. But this—" she indicated the spread between them, "—isn't working."
His eyes fell back to the table and he remained in silent contemplation for a bit. She put the time to good use as well, questioning her suggestion and coming back with greater confidence. What they might do, or more accurately what he might accept, she still was not certain. All she knew was that getting away from here was a good idea.
Somehow Dancer was stepping into view just as Fleur began looking for their impeccably convenient server. "We would like to pay for our food, if you don't mind."
"Of course, Miss Fleur." Dancer's smile remained pleasant even as she tried to take in the new situation. "I shall bring it right out—"
"I'm afraid we're in a bit of a hurry. I would... If we could just pay up front, or something. Please."
The white mare's smile faltered, but she caught herself before a more concerned expression could fully manifest. "I... I suppose that is alright."
Fleur excused herself just after their little party stepped up to a cozy, polished bar of dark wood with plush personal benches before it and a pair of prim tenders behind—one a short blue pegasus stallion, and the other an even shorter golden pegasus mare. She needed a moment to herself, and though he had been silent during the short walk, Hyperic seemed to be doing well enough, despite the latent anxiety she could still see just beneath his surface.
She double-checked her mane and tail, lightly teasing the former for good measure, and resolutely smoothed out the mussed areas of her coat and tail with a swipe of magic. Her shawl was still well-set, and the touches of makeup she had used earlier were fine.
Now all she had to do was answer the question of what they should do next, if anything. Unfortunately, what came to mind were things she normally enjoyed on a night out, like drinks, dancing, singing, making a fool of herself with her friends, or flirting with a stallion and hoping for more. Hyperic likely would not be up for any of those things; not that she had any desire to do many with him. She had to be honest with herself that the pony he was at the moment did not interest her at all.
She stopped herself from going down that path again with a little shake.
Tonight was supposed to be about repairing the damage she had done, a task which would be much easier if she could find the relaxed, happy side of him that she had glimpsed at the café before her initial apology. Or the capable and confident version she had observed at the skyship repair yard a couple days ago—the one she had determined to offer this evening to in the first place. But he was neither of those ponies tonight, and she just had to accept it.
Friends stuck together though, despite and even in the face of facets that others were not thrilled with. And as a friend, she could help by keeping herself approachable, and being a mare he could just talk to. Perhaps even better, she might be able to interest one of her friends in him—Slipstream was currently available, and quite friendly. Yet that was all for later; at the moment what she really needed was something simple and relaxing so they could just talk. Like a walk around town perhaps. Which, after this evening, actually sounded pretty nice in and of itself.
Only the host and their server were present when Fleur returned, Hyperic's location outside indicated by a nod from the teal mare at the podium. It meant an opportunity to sate her curiosity, and as Fleur approached, Dancer lifted her muzzle to smile.
"You were doing that on purpose weren't you?"
"Um, I'm sorry?" It was the first unsettled response the white mare had shown that evening.
Fleur pursed her lips in mock severity. "Showing up just when there were breaks in our conversation."
Dancer's eyes lit up, and she gave a half-grin. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Fleur shook her head, not hiding her own growing smile. "Thanks. I really appreciate it."
"You're welcome!"
A quick round of goodbyes followed, as well as a promise to visit again soon, and as she exited past the doorpony, her gait held a bit more bounce. The smile she gave Hyperic was also just a bit wider and more genuine. He returned a more tentative one as she stepped up to him, but it was there despite the carefully guarded look he wore. His demeanor was sobering, but he was clearly still trying, so it was also a cause for joy.
"Hey, I've got an idea, let's go for a walk."
His brow creased. "A walk?"
"Yeah." She stepped away, leading by example. "We can clear our heads and talk at the same time."
He sighed faintly but fell in beside her. "So, where are we walking to?"
She shrugged. It did not matter all that much.
"Ummmm... Should I be worried?"
A bit of fancy hoofwork was all that prevented her from planting her muzzle on the cobblestones after missing a step. "Did you... Did you just joke with me?" Momentarily adjusting her shawl hopefully covered the blush from her near tumble.
"I, uhhhhh... Yeah." Somehow, the blush showing through his coat trumped hers, but he kept his chin up even as her incredulity turned into amusement. "I'm trying, okay! You are for some reason, so I am too."
She decided to ignore his casual defeatism in favor of a giving a self-satisfied grin, turning her eyes to where she was headed. "It's a good start. We've said our grievances, and now we can move on, right?" She gave him just enough time to think of an answer. "And you don't need to worry, I only bite on request."
He did not stumble as she had, but his eyes snapped to her and then back forward, his mouth opening and working futilely. The mildly unsteady frown he settled on was not the response she had hoped for.
"What?" she prodded.
He nearly spoke again, but went right back to the frown.
"Oh, just go on and say whatever you're thinking."
"I... That's, um... I'll keep that in mind for later." His coat shifted a shade darker.
Her reply giggle was lightly happy as she attempted another shoulder bump. But he stepped away again! She could not help rolling her eyes. "See? You can play around! That wasn't so hard, was it?" It was enough to make his blush persist.
"It's... different." He shook his head. "I'm, um, not so worried when it's my friends but..." He struggled for words, slipping a look or two at her, his ears flattening again. "You're... just so pretty."
He already looked ready to pop, and her laughter only managed to make him worse. She would have liked to celebrate having drawn him so far from his shell, however the rising strain in his movements was a reminder of earlier events. It was strange and uncomfortable to drop the conversation where it was, but if she were to remain true to her aunt's advice, then she could not risk pushing him too much.
Though that did not stop her from putting a little extra swish in her tail as they walked, which drew his eyes once or twice.
For some time they traveled from block to block, silently drifting away from the voluminous lighting of the business district, the stars seeming to manifest just for them as the sky's artificial golden haze dimmed to a rich black-violet. The crowds of ponies thinned until there was only the occasional passerby, or another couple also out for an intimate stroll. It was peaceful. It was idyllic.
But long, quiet walks were not really Fleur's idea of a good time, at least not without something else to keep her occupied. An ominous boredom loomed over her, and every now and again, in an attempt to fill the time, some discussion topic or another would pop into her head. Hyperic walked along easily enough, peeking at her when he probably thought she was not paying attention—which was cute, she decided—but every step was still too stiff; too self-conscious. Instead, she bit her tongue and let each moment pass in favor of another look around.
"Hey, is that Duskfall Park?"
Fleur's frustration evaporated as she latched onto the distraction. Down the way from the corner they had come to was a break in the lawns, fences, and gardens lining the sidewalk. Open space marked and dotted with the shadowy forms of truly massive trees beckoned. She had not realized they had wandered so far around the western edge of the city—the park was not very far from her place.
"Yeah." Her voice picked up as she started moving again. "Come on!"
Supposedly one of the very first plots in the city—requested by Princess Celestia herself, no less—it was located right at the edge, providing a spectacular view down the valley by day, and a perfect vantage for watching the sunset. One of the five courses of the Alicorn River wound its way through the park's numerous ancient oaks, forming pools for foals to play in, then dropping off the edge of the mountain to rejoin its brethren hundreds of feet below. Even from the street corner, Fleur could hear the falls rumbling far in the distance.
Other than its illustrious status, the park itself was no more exciting than any other in the city. What drew Fleur was the very welcome change of scenery.
She led the way across the street and under the over-arching boughs—Hyperic may have been beside her, but he was clearly following her lead—before slowing somewhat, her head swiveling gently as she peered around. Low hills, carefully bordered patches of unkempt bushes, and flowering plants added variety to the scenery, standing out surprisingly strongly in the moonlight slipping between the trees. An enchantment that enhanced the moon's illumination was another reason the park was so popular by night.
Which meant there were other ponies about. Couples walked the paths, lay together in the open spaces and under the trees, and there was even one pair near some bushes taking liberties with the limits of allowable public affection. Though not so many were around to prevent anypony from finding a certain amount of privacy. Fleur quickly found what she was looking for in this regard, plopping down near a cragged trunk that reached up and away far overhead, its soft creaks from some distant breeze adding nicely to the ambiance. One of the well-tended fields stretched away before them, revealing several other couples stargazing under the silvery light.
Hyperic settling down more gently, careful to leave a few hoofspans of empty space between them. He jerked, eyes darting up toward her when she huffed and stood again. Stepping deliberately closer, she set herself back down beside him before he could even think of moving. Where their forelegs, shoulders, flanks, and haunches touched, she plainly felt tensely corded muscles under his coat, a jarring contrast to the mood she had hoped to set.
"Just rela—" A very faint sour note in the air drew her attention, and she sniffed lightly.
Hyperic managed to go even more stiff, leaning away and curling his head down near his forelegs, his ears trying to fold themselves into the back of his head. "S-sorry, th-the filly I-I went to prom w-with complained about-t me not-t showering t-too."
She blinked, her muzzle curling into a disgusted sneer as his words registered. "You didn't shower before coming out tonight?!" But that didn't make sense!
He flinched and pushed himself away. "N-no... I, uh, I did. I did then too. Doesn't... Didn't matter. Spend your whole evening, um, scared out of your mind and you'd sweat too."
It took her a moment of staring at the ashamed stallion while things recent and in the past clicked into place. With a long exhale, and a mental note to take a bath later, she pushed over and set herself against him again.
"So... you did shower?"
His wide eyes sought hers and he stared for a second before giving a shaky nod. The confirmation was reassuring.
"Did you ever tell her that?"
A head shake this time as he spoke, resignation heavy in his tone. "No. It was already too late by then. Wouldn't have made a difference, so there was no point."
"Well, I say sometimes a little sweat is a good thing." Nudging his shoulder was like tapping a rock. He was on the edge again, and it was difficult to keep her continued frustration hidden. "Just relax, okay?"
This time he stayed put, though he turned his head away, nodding with pursed lips as he pondered something.
"Why are you trying so hard?" He seemed to ask no one in particular, staring out across the field.
"I had to do something and I, um, I thought that this..." She wasn't going to say 'date.' "That redoing that first night, but better, would be the nicest way."
"So it's pity?" He immediately flinched and ducked his head, clearly realizing what he had said wrong.
She frowned at him, not willing to fall into that trap. "Just stop, okay? Doing that isn't going to help. Yes, I feel bad—"
"I know it doesn't help. But I..." He deflated.
"It's... It's okay." She firmly pushed her frustration back. "I know it's hard—especially because it's me—but I want to help. There's a whole other stallion in there; somepony who mares would probably like to meet. Why can't you just let him out?" Mentally she facehoofed over her awful wording.
It set Hyperic back as well, and he blinked several times as though trying to figure her out. As was all too common, instead of any other response, he went back to staring furtively into the distance. "If you sear your hoof on a stove, you learn really fast not to touch it."
"But... But you don't stop eating because you're afraid of getting burned!" she protested. Her heart sank, dreading another trip around this dismal verbal circle.
He did not respond though, simply shutting his mouth soon after opening it, and casting his eyes back down. There may have been a blush on his features, but his unpleasant grimace and folded ears seemed more like repressed anger. She had been right: this was getting them nowhere. How could he possibly not see what she was laying out in front of his muzzle?
"Sorry." His lone, quiet word took much of her furor away. "I-I don't mean... It's hard."
"I know... I know. You just need to have some confidence."
It was difficult to read his expression as he met her eyes. "I wish it were that easy, but confidence isn't, um, isn't easy to get if you don't already have it. It's hard when you have nothing to say. Not that you don't have anything good to say, just..." He waved a hoof in helpless circles near his head. "Just nothing."
She always had something to say, even if it was not always the most well-thought thing, so it was hard to imagine coming up completely blank. That was a particularly distressing thought. "Well, I think I understand a lot better now. And you're doing pretty well."
He opened his mouth but just shut it a moment later after a pained look.
She pressed on again. "You're just so nervous, I get it, and I think it would be easier with help, right? That's probably why my aunt and uncle talked so much about being patient and persistent." She nudged his forehoof with her own. "I think what you really need is a mare you can just talk to, and guess what, I'm here now."
His head came up, and their eyes met for a long moment. The ambiance was right, they were so close together, and the timing was perfect, but if he tried to kiss her now she would put her hoof down. Instead he broke away to shake his head wryly, and she made certain that none of her relief showed. There were limits on how far she was willing to go.
"Thanks." He again made a single word so very heartfelt. After a short pause he turned back to her. "So, ummmm... what should we talk about then?"
"Oh, I don't know." A look around the park gave her time to think, and thankfully her thoughts had no need to be in a mad scramble this time. "Why not those ponies over there?"
She did not know how long they spent under that tree, but by the time they both decided that it had been long enough, there were noticeably fewer ponies still in the park. It had not been the most exciting way to end an evening, but it had ended up pleasant enough. Hyperic remained somewhat quiet and obviously tense throughout, yet he was doggedly amiable as their conversation drifted from one thing to another, avoiding any serious topic.
The larger portion of the talking was still hers, since she was quite at home commenting on and theorizing about the activities of the ponies around them, some of whom she had likely met, and possibly even knew rather well. Though when two couples started playing a lively game of tag in the field, Hyperic surprised her by striking up a short, bawdy conversation on how frisky the couples' evening would end. She had carefully avoided driving him back to a bashful wreck, not thinking he had it in him.
When they finally decided to leave she was presented with another opportunity, one which she had no trouble taking. As they passed under an ornately entwined arch of living vines at the edge of the park, she matched her stride to his and stepped in close. Like clockwork he moved away as soon as her coat brushed his.
"Relax," she told him, "I'm doing something here."
When she moved in again, he held his ground as they continued to walk together, shoulder to shoulder and haunch to haunch. His whole body radiated discomfort, but there was a battle going on over just how widely he would let himself smile. It was horribly adorable that such a small thing could affect him so strongly, but she kept her own grin to herself.
He gradually relaxed somewhat as they went, though the tension she felt under his coat never fully went away, and they did not separate until reaching the stone walk leading up to her place. His eyes went wide and he fell behind as she unlocked and stepped through the gate ahead of him. Turning her head to follow his gaze, she understood. The two story house before them was bracketed by neatly trimmed hedges and topiaries in various designs, and boasted numerous modest columns in one of the classical pegasus styles. Crisp and clean in the traditional Canterlot white and gold, and with fine detailing around the windows and doors, it was a far step up from his row house. Even so, her place was also dwarfed by her parents' sprawling abode some distance away, a low and broken line of small gardens doing a poor imitation of a property line between the two.
She laughed. "You didn't think I had my own sky skimmer just because, did you?"
He snapped back to reality with a jerk. "I, uhhhh, I... No. Well, I hadn't really thought about it. I've, um, been a little preoccupied."
Another, lighter laugh from her. "I understand. But yes, Fleur de Lis and Fancy Pants are my mom and dad."
"I guess I'm kinda' surprised there isn't a butler or something out here to meet us then."
"Nah. I didn't know how late I would be out tonight. Plus I'm a big filly; I can handle the gate by myself." A bit of lavender magic wiggled it back and forth.
His chuckle made her smile. Though it was wiped away when his expression soured, his eyes dropped to his forehooves as he shuffled them. "I know tonight could have gone much worse, and considering how we met it probably should have... And I, um, I know it really didn't go that well anyways. I know it was tough putting up with me, and I just wanted to say how thankful I am that you did."
The evident strength of his gratitude brought warmth and fuzziness to her chest, even as she fought against grinding her teeth over his constant backpedalling. But it was the thought that he would have been turned away long before this point that made her decision for her. She brought her head down to his level and stepped forward, meeting his eyes as he looked up.
"It wasn't tough just for me. I'm really am sorry that I hurt you so badly."
His head rose along with hers, that hesitantly pleased smile coming back. "So, ummmmm..." He inhaled long and deep, his grin faltering as his eyes threatened to dart away. "Will I, um, see you again?"
It was a hard to not burst out laughing at the picture-perfect image of a teenage colt asking after his first crush. In response, regretful acceptance played across his face, as though he expected exactly that from her. Even with that sobering motivation she still needed a moment to get herself fully under control.
"I'm surprised you would want to see me again." She had not meant to sound as defeatist as he had, but it had the added benefit of shocking him into reassessing his next words.
"Ummm, it really is like I said earlier. It might be stupid of me, but you're still the best chance I've had." He followed with a grimace and a toss of his head. "Ugh, that sounded even more pathetic out loud!"
"Hey. Hey. Hey," she prodded gently to get his attention back. Then she surprised even herself. "I'll say you will if you want. Tonight wasn't the greatest, sure, but we had to get some stuff out of the way. We've done that, right? But we still haven't had just one good evening to hang out together. It wouldn't be fair to go through all that without having one, um, actual, good date."
He gaped, his face seemly unable to decide just how happy he was. "A-alright! But, um, next time we could do something that you'd want to. If you'd prefer."
That made her blink; his interests did not seem to cross hers very much, if at all. "Are you sure?"
"Well, um, no. But fair's fair and I kinda' picked tonight. I've at least got to try." He was a little shaky but determined. It was the kind of reaction and result she had looked for all night.
"Um, sure."
It was short work figuring out when next their schedules would allow, which left only one thing remaining in a good, traditional date—not that she was really going to call this evening one. He seemed to realize this as well, and apparently unsure what would be appropriate, he began fidgeting again as he considered what to do. She still was not going to allow a kiss, and just in case that was where he was headed she quickly cut him off.
"Hold still." She rolled her eyes when he went completely rigid. "Relax, okay?"
When it became clear that she was aiming more to the side, he managed to free himself enough to meet her, and pressed his cheek back against hers for a long moment. When they broke apart his entire coat was visibly darker, even in the dim lighting, and he was struggling not to grin like an idiot.
After a short goodbye he trotted away, giving one last look backward. When she turned toward her house, thoughts of the needed bath creeping back in, she was still not entirely sure how to feel about agreeing to a real date. On one hoof, that filly from his past had been right about the effort it would take to sort him out, and she did not know if she was up to the task. On the other, his raw happiness at the evening's rather simple ending felt so precious that thinking about it spread a pleasant warmth through her chest. Maybe everything would be alright.