> Sunset Paradox > by Shortmane > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Schrödinger's Romance > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “… Suppose it’s nearly over,” Sunset said idly as they walked under a clear night sky.   “What?” Twilight squawked.   “I just said summer’s almost over,” Sunset said, glancing at Twilight with great fondness. “Geez Twilight, you’ve been spacing out all night.”   “Oh, right, summer, heh, I knew that.” She laughed, a bit unsteadily, before taking on a much more familiar, contemplative expression. “Actually, now that you mention it, that’s another point of differentiation between our worlds—the changing of seasons. How do you know it’s the official end of summer here? I suppose there’s no Autumn Jubilee or Running of the Leaves.”   “Nope. Here, end of summer is all about the start of school and subsequent end of freedom. Or at least it is for students,” Sunset replied, grinning and thinking about her friends. “Honestly I’m looking forward to it.”   “But I meant for the natural world,” Twilight insisted, hurrying forward a step to keep up with her now racing mind. “There’s no magic here but something must alter the seasons—the temperature, precipitation, hours of daylight. What is it?”   “I swear I just need to steal a textbook for you,” Sunset said, shaking her head. “The short answer is: it just happens. But if you want the long answer—“   “Yes!”   “Okay, so you remember what I said how the earth is round? And it orbits the sun?”   At that Twilight’s lips formed a tight line and an eye twitched. In Equestria, that was tipping close to blasphemy. “Uh huh…”   “Right. So it’s got to do with that...”   The topic held a certain fascination for them, although by that point Sunset had taken pains to learn about the natural world, both to keep up her disguise as a regular human, and out of a sense of general curiosity. While the two universes appeared the same in this regard—the rising sun, the waning moon, each following their designated paths overhead—it was also one of the most alien things in this alien world.   Back in Equestria, it was a known fact—with a particular significance for students of Celestia—that it was Celestia’s god-like magic that controlled day and night. When the sun rose in the morning, it rose from the darkness, brought forth in a splendid sunrise for all the lands, all at the same moment. Through the hours of the day it followed its charted path, and at the designated time Celestia pulled it down into the nothingness beneath the flat plane of the world.   As for Earth? Well…   “Well that’s much more complicated than back home,” Twilight said, pouting a bit after hearing Sunset’s explanation about orbits, axes, equators, and poles.   Sunset let out a laugh. “Yeah, well, just don’t make my mistake and say the world is flat here—trust me. Although apparently it helps if you mention turtles.”   “Turtles?" Twilight said, startled. "Why turtles?”   “I’m not entirely sure,” Sunset said, rubbing her chin, “but it was something to do with stacks of turtles.”   “Huh... fascinating."   They once again fell into easy conversation: Sunset’s upcoming classes, Twilight’s latest flying mishaps, seasonal temperature fluctuations. Turtles.   Despite the casualness of it all, Twilight was still clearly troubled. Earlier that night when Sunset had met her at the portal entrance, she had found Twilight muttering softly and pacing, but hadn’t thought much of it. Then after dinner they had gone to the Sweet Shoppe to share a dark chocolate mousse, and Twilight almost forgot how to pick up the spoon. As they left, she would have slammed face-first into a glass door if Sunset hadn’t lunged forward to push it open. Something was distracting her.   Whatever the cause, it likely wasn’t anything in the human world—things had been quiet for months, and in that time the two had gotten closer. Sometimes they hung out with the other girls, but it was more difficult with how busy everyone was with summer jobs and camps. Most often, when Twilight visited, it was simply the two of them.    It was nice. Really nice, in fact. Sunset was digging this whole friendship thing. Of course she loved her school friends, but it was different with Twilight. It was odd, too, especially considering the attempted murder and crown stealing incident. But they also had a special connection. They were like two comets soaring through the cosmos, pulled in different directions: both burning bright with passion and untold potential, racing towards their fates.   Twilight had forged her own path, growing ever brighter, a beacon of goodness lighting up the sky.   Sunset, on the other hand, had careened off course and crashed hard before digging an even deeper hole for herself. And then proceeded to burst into flames. Literal, demonic flames.   Despite all that… they were friends. Good friends.   Sunset glanced over at Twilight, who had once again fallen silent, her head tucked down into the collar of Sunset’s leather jacket. Sunset didn’t mind: she was comfortable in the cooler weather, and Twilight had no jacket of her own after coming through the portal. A breeze rose from the small lake they were circumnavigating and Twilight pulled the jacket tighter around herself. Sunset had to resist stepping close and putting her arm around her.   Before they made it all the way back to the portal they came to a bench beneath a golden streetlight and sat there for a time. To their left the moon slowly ambled up amongst the stars, the sky soft and clear, in front lay a small dark lake, and on the right, in the distance, was the edge of the school. Beyond, a bell counted off out the late hour in deep, booming tolls, almost from another world.   It was quiet. Peaceful. Nearly perfect. But clearly something was wrong.   “All right, seriously Twilight, what is it?” Sunset said finally, her patience run out. “You’ve been in a weird mood all night. Did something happen in Equestria? Monster? Existential threat? Is it the princess thing again?”   “No, no, that’s not it. It’s… personal.” Twilight took a deep breath, as if readying herself. Sunset couldn’t quite tell if it really was that serious, or just Twilight being anxious again.   “The truth is, Sunset, I have something important to talk to you about. Something I’ve been thinking about for a long time, but I’m afraid of hurting you.”   “Whatever it is, I can handle it.” Sunset lay a hand over Twilight’s, encouraging her. To her surprise Twilight pulled away, curling her hand to her chest, almost pained. Maybe this was serious.   “It’s just, I… we have to…” Twilight faltered again.   “Yes?” Sunset said slowly, now very curious what this was all about.   Another deep breath in, then out, and then Twilight looked at her.   “I’m breaking up with you.”   Sunset stared and tried to make sense of that.   Twilight woefully added, “I’m sorry,” as if that cleared anything up.   Sunset stared harder. “What?”   “We can still be friends, of course!” Twilight said hurriedly, panic setting in. “It’s not you, it’s me—“   “Hang on—“   “We’re just on two different paths right now—“   “Wait—“ She tried again. Nope.   “—happy and it would never work out between us—“ She didn’t seem to be actually breathing as she raced and stumbled through the words.   “Twi—“   “I think we should see other ponies—people!” She quickly corrected herself, and tried again. “Beings?”   “Twilight!”   Twilight stopped, mouth open wide, and then visibly deflated. In some far off corner of her mind, Sunset was aware that Twilight had thrown nearly every breakup cliché in the book at her. Very quickly. With zero warning.   Sunset put a hand on each shoulder, looked her straight in the eyes, and said, “What are you talking about?”    “We, uh, have to break up.” She looked a little puzzled. Good. Now they were both confused.   “Twilight. We can’t break up. We’re not dating.”   There was an annoyingly long pause. The only thing missing were some crickets.   “Yes we are,” Twilight said, as if it should be obvious.   “No?” Sunset said again, squinting at her, which only made it harder to see in the low light.   Twilight squinted right back at her, head tilting slightly. “Yes…?”   “No. Just… what? I mean, I think I would have noticed if we were dating.” She tried to laugh but it fizzled like a bad firework. Why wasn’t Twilight laughing?   “Sunset, we’ve been dating for months,” Twilight said, beginning to look nervous. And a bit hurt. “You don’t remember?”   “Remember what?” she said, louder than she meant and definitely not panicking. “We can’t have… when would we have even…  oh no. Did I—“   “I asked you out ages ago,” Twilight said. “I asked if you wanted to go on a date to that restaurant, and you said yes.”   Sunset spluttered. Especially since she remembered that moment and was frantically trying to recall if she had missed some very big signs. “That… what? No that’s… that was different! That was a friend date! As friends!”   “But it was a date! Obviously!”   “Obvious?” It had been a simple dinner together, nothing more. Although there had been candles. And soft music. Then afterwards they had walked under the moonlight and shared an ice cream together. And… held hands.   Uh oh.   Sunset held her own hands tight to her ribs, frantically trying to think. This couldn’t be serious? “We did all the traditional romantic date things,” Twilight continued, not helping. “At the end, I asked if we wanted to keep seeing each other and you said yes. We checked off everything on my list!”   “What list? No, never mind,” Sunset said, shaking her head. “But Twilight, we can’t just—we’ve never even kissed!”   “Yes we have! I kissed you on the cheek once.”   Sunset stared, horrorstruck. “That doesn’t count!”   “Of course it did! It was very romantic,” Twilight said stubbornly.   Sunset badly wanted to bang her head on something. Immediately she regretted this thought when she slumped down and, indeed, accidentally banged the back of her head on the cold metal rail of the bench.   “Ow. “ She sat up straight again, quickly rubbing over the spot.   “Sunset, didn’t you know we’re on a date right now?” Twilight asked, sounding concerned for Sunset's mental state.   “We are?” she asked stupidly.   “Aren’t we?”   Sunset gazed about the darkened landscape, as if there might be some neon sign in the sky that said, ‘Yes, you’re on a date you dingus.’   Was Sunset that oblivious? Without quite meaning to, she was on her feet, her nerves too frantic to keep sitting. Her foot tapped as she tried to make sense of it all.   Her eyes fell to her jacket draped over Twilight’s skinny shoulders. Huh.   “That probably isn’t helping,” she said, pointing at the dark leather.   “Giving a girl your jacket is a common romantic gesture,” Twilight said dutifully, tugging it more closely around her. “It wasn’t technically in any of the research I read, but it’s a trope I’m quite fond of. I already checked it off my list.”   Twilight was now becoming the slightest bit smug because apparently she might have been right. “And you gave me a flower once. That’s a classic!”   “You mean that time I stole a nasturtium from someone’s garden? And you ate it?”   “It counted! Besides, there was also…” Twilight paused, almost certainly recounting her notes. “Our letters! We write letters to each other all the time!”   “Are you counting our journal writing now? Really?” Somehow she felt she should be offended by that. Like, offended on behalf of the innocent journal that just got pushed in the middle of their—apparently—romantic drama.   “Handwritten letters! It was on the list!”   “Just how long was this list?” Sunset asked, shocked despite feeling she shouldn’t be.   “It was… standard.”   Sunset decided that, actually, she didn’t want to know.   “And,” Twilight said with a meaningful look, “you kept flirting with me.”   Sunset wanted to argue that, thought better of it, and softly swore.   All right, maybe she had been flirting with Twilight. A bit. But that was… it didn’t have to mean… just because she… fine, so friend flirting wasn’t a thing. It was just fun. "But..."   “I thought you knew. When I was going through it all in my head, all the pieces seemed to fit. Then I asked you out, you said yes. So it was only reasonable that we, well…” Twilight hesitated, glancing at her.   “That we’re dating?”   Twilight nodded. “Exactly. We’re dating.”   “Oh my god, we’re dating,” Sunset said, slumping back onto the bench, feeling like she’d been punched. But a nice kind of punch. “You mean I’ve had a girlfriend for months and I didn’t know it?”   “You did a surprisingly good job, all things considered,” Twilight said kindly. “This would also explain some things. Except the flirting.”   Sunset slapped a hand over her face and let it rest there. She was starting to get a headache.   “It all made sense on paper,” Twilight said idly while Sunset sat sprawled out on the bench and tried to make sense of her life. “I even made a compatibility chart.”   “You what?” Sunset lowered her hand and glanced over. The shock was quickly wearing off and replaced with a growing curiosity, as well as something like awe over how absurd it was.   “And took a compatibility quiz in Pony magazine.”   “That’s somehow even more distressing.”   “We fit together really well, too!” Twilight continued, ignoring her. “Similar backgrounds, similar dreams and life goals… more or less. I’m a Virgo, you’re a Cancer—we have 98% compatibility!”   “Actually I’m a Leo—“   “Not if you use the astronomically accurate star chart,” Twilight said quickly, to which Sunset had to hide a grin. “And even our archetypes fit! I’m a nerd, you’re a jock—“   “Did you just call me a jock?”   “No, not jock, sorry, wrong word,” Twilight said, growing flustered in her excitement. “I mean that you’re the bad girl! And everyone wants a bad girl, at least according to popular media. Although traditionally it’s bad boy, but I’m playing a bit loose with the terminology here.”   “Uh huh.”   “And you’re not just a bad girl! You’re also a complete nerd!” Twilight said.   “I can’t tell if you’re trying to insult me right now.”   “I mean you’re brilliant!” Twilight said earnestly. “We both have a love of learning, and we have similar backstories—“   “Wait, backstories?” Sunset said,    “I-I mean histories!”   Sunset was squinting again. Twilight was smiling twitchily and tapping her knuckles.   “O…kay.” She wondered how much of her research was simply reading piles of romance novels. Or worse… fanfiction. “So this research of yours…“   “Peer-reviewed!”   Right. Definitely fanfiction.   “But that's beside the point!” Twilight held up her fist to make another point, paused, remembered she had fingers, and stuck one of those up too. “I… wait, where was I?”   “Compatibility quiz?” Sunset offered, wishing she had some popcorn at this point.   “Yes, thank you,” Twilight said, nodding. “And color wise, orange and purple are complementary—“   “I can almost hear Rarity screaming about how untrue that is,” Sunset remarked.   “Actually, those colors are complementary according to the basic color theory—“   “Really?” “Just look at Rarity and Applejack!”   “I… all right, point taken.”   “And… and besides!” Twilight said, still a bit manic. “Who doesn’t love enemies to friends to lovers?”   “You’re just naming tropes now.”   “Am I wrong?” Twilight shot back, crossing her arms.   Sunset opened her mouth, wanting to argue, and instead shrugged with a sigh. “Fair enough. You, uh, sure put some thought into this.” “Sorry, that might have been a bit much,” Twilight said after a moment, her earlier excitement fading. “Especially considering, uh…”   “That you’re breaking up with me? Nah, it’s fine,” Sunset said, waving a loose hand in the air, perhaps feeling a bit numb to the whole thing. “Still, I feel like I’ve been missing out. If nothing else there must be some good jokes I didn’t get to use. Like dirty jokes… or puns! There’s got to be some terrible puns for dating a magical pony princess.” She thought, couldn’t think of anything, and shrugged. “Eh, I’ll ask Pinkie Pie later.”   “You’re not taking this very seriously,” Twilight said accusingly.   Sunset couldn’t help but grin. “Sorry, it’s hard to be invested when I learned about it two minutes ago. Just give me some time to start moping, I’m sure it’ll kick in. Sweet Celestia we’re dating.” She gave a small laugh, feeling slightly like she’d had too much cider, or that giddy feeling of laughing so hard the room spins. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant.   “Well… still. You’re handling this all better than I expected. Even considering the, uh, late notice.” Twilight leaned back, frowning.   “Maybe a year ago or so ago this might have wrecked me—self loathing and melodrama for days. But things have changed. I’ve changed. I trust you Twilight, and I know myself enough to know that I’ll be okay. Besides, it’s not like you’ll stop coming to visit. Right?”   Right?   As she said it, her stomach swooped with a sudden fear that it might be true. The lingering punch-drunk feeling stopped as everything seemed to come into sudden, glaring focus.   If they were breaking up… did that mean losing everything between them? With that thought came the pain of how much she would miss just talking with Twilight. Just being with her. It spoke of how much she came to love… being with her. Was that all going to be gone?   “Of course not!” Twilight said quickly. “I mean, of course I’ll visit. We can still be friends. Although...” She paused, considering. “Although I’ll understand if you would like some time apart. I read that it can be beneficial to have a period of no contact after a break in a relationship.”   “Read about it, huh?” Sunset couldn’t help but ask, one eyebrow quirking, content to let those darker thoughts settle. No need to panic. There was no need to sulk because none of it was actually real.   “Yes, and my sources also recommended that you should prioritize your physical and mental well-being immediately afterwards, and that includes spending time with friends to recover. Breakups can be traumatic if both parties don’t feel respected. Or if… one party isn’t expecting it.”   Twilight dropped her head into her fists with a great sigh.   “Whoops,” Sunset said cheerfully, unable to help herself. “Cheer up, Twilight. You’re doing fine.”   “No I’m not!” Twilight cried, bursting out of her hands. Now it was her turn to get up and start pacing. “Nothing about this is fine! None of this is even necessary because I apparently never officially asked you out! Gah! It would have been better if I just didn’t say anything!”   “Bit late for that now,” Sunset said, watching her pace. “So what do your sources also recommend? Ice cream and soap operas?”   “I don’t even know anymore!” she shouted, throwing her arms. And then stopped mid-step. “Although… actually, yes, now that you mention it. Rarity insisted that ice cream was essential to any good break up.”   “Of course she did,” Sunset said with a fond roll of her eyes. “Listen Twilight, if it makes you happy, then I’ll agree to officially end our… let’s call it a five minute romance. An end of summer fling. A, uh, reverse fake dating. Wait, when did this even start?” Twilight looked away, biting her lip.  “Well, I mean… at least for me, it started a while ago, when we had to compete in that Battle of the Bands.”   “Really? When we fought those Sirens?” Sunset wasn’t sure how to explain that saving the world wasn’t exactly grounds for a first date. Although… hell, was it?   “It wasn’t about the Sirens. It was something… smaller.” She paused, looking younger than she had a minute before. “Do you remember when you found me that night in the kitchen?”   Sunset sombered at that. “Yeah. Yeah, I remember.” It had been brief and sleep-addled, ultimately interrupted by Maud Pie barging in with her pet rock, but it was perhaps the first time she really saw a bit of herself in Twilight, that shared connection: both afraid of letting others down, both allowing themselves to be a little vulnerable.   “Talking with you, even just those few moments—they made me feel less alone,” Twilight said softly. “I think that’s when I started falling for you.”   “Oh.” Sunset didn’t have much to say to that, suddenly glad for the dark night to somewhat hide her warm cheeks. She faced ahead, watching the white ripples of the moon on the lake, still trying to wrap her mind around it all.   “And now… we’re breaking up?” Sunset asked, turning back to her. “Why?” Twilight became somber at that, her eyes downcast, and the mood shifted; the whole world seemed suddenly colder. Those few moments were all it took for a new vicious thought to surface in Sunset’s mind.   “Oh. I screwed up, didn’t I?” Sunset said.   “What? No!” In a stride Twilight was sitting beside her again, but Sunset yanked her arm back when Twilight reached out to her.   “Wow,” Sunset said with a cold laugh, a very familiar hatred beginning to seethe, this time at no one but herself. “I must have been pretty bad to mess it up that fast—“   “No, Sunset. You didn’t.” Twilight took her hand, but Sunset couldn’t quite look at her.   But that must have been it. She hadn’t been good enough. How could she be? Sunset couldn’t compare to all that Twilight was. Twilight had earned that crown. She deserved those wings, the rightful title of princess. How could Sunset ever stand up to that? Her, the demon.   “Sorry for disappointing you,” Sunset said viciously, not daring to look at her.   Sorry I wasn’t enough.   “Sunset, this isn’t your fault. Not at all! Please, believe me.” Twilight’s voice was choked as if with tears, and her warm hands tightened around Sunset’s own. Finally Sunset looked at her.   “It wasn’t you,” Twilight said, so direct and honest that Sunset wanted to believe her. The sudden hard tension in her shoulders loosened, just a little, as she listened. “I knew from the start that a long distance relationship would be difficult, and this isn’t just a matter of different cities, or even different worlds, but entirely different universes.   “But also, since knowing you, we’ve changed. Both of us. For the better, I honestly believe, but still. We’re growing in different ways. We just can’t be together. It would never work.”   Sunset nodded faintly, understanding the real reason. They might be about the same physical age, Sunset even a bit older, but time seemed to work differently between the dimensions. Twilight truly was blooming, becoming a leader in her own right with new responsibilities every week. Sunset, for all her maturity and knowledge, was still in high school, surrounded by high school kids.   They were worlds apart in more ways than one.   “Well… those sound like good reasons.” Sunset couldn’t quite make the words sound right. They came out lumpy and thick, like she was talking around a rock.   Twilight fidgeted. Where others might tap their fingers in nervousness, Twilight curled her hands and tapped her knuckles together. It was stupidly cute. Sunset wanted to kick herself for thinking that now.   It was too late. It was too late. That chance was gone and she hadn’t even known it.   “Except that’s not the real reason, if I’m being honest,” Twilight said slowly. “The truth is…  it’s just…”   “What?” Sunset asked, breathless, uncertain if she wanted to hear anymore.   “I don’t love you,” Twilight said, simple, honest, and brutal. “Not the way I should. Not the way you deserve. I thought I did—I tried! I thought what I felt for you was enough because I admire you and I love spending time with you. But I don’t love you, and it wouldn’t be fair to either of us to pretend otherwise.”   “Oh.” All right. That hurt.   “And it’s not because of anything you did, or that you’re in any way wrong. You’re not, Sunset. You’re wonderful. You’re just not right for me. I don’t know if anyone is. Honestly, it took me a while to admit it to myself because I didn’t want this relationship to end. Because I still care so much about you.”   “That’s.. fine. Yeah. I get it.” Sunset swallowed around the tightness in her throat, and then she pulled a knee up and leaned back against the hard slats of the bench, twining her fingers around the rough denim of her jeans.   They sat in silence after that. That proved to be a mistake.   With the silence and the stillness, the reality really was sinking in. It had been easy to joke about before because it was absurd that they were secretly dating—secret to Sunset, anyway. If she laughed about it, she wouldn’t have to confront those ugly emotions that were now bubbling up like tar.   It was stupid, after all. They hadn’t really been dating. A kiss on the cheek and a plucked flower were no basis for romance. It didn’t count if one of them didn’t even know about it!   But despite the stupidity of it (and it was stupid!), Sunset was starting to realize that it had also been real.   Fora short time, and at least for Twilight, they had been together. Twilight had loved her.   Did she like Twilight? Obviously. When Sunset had been at her lowest, Twilight had reached out a hand to help her up; had pulled her away from her own darkest demons. Sunset trusted her, cared about her, could laugh with her about things that no one else could understand. Not just about Equestria and about becoming human, even if those were things quite unique to them in this world.   But they could also talk about running through a snow-covered Canterlot on Hearth’s Warming Eve, or about studying the great tomes of ancient unicorns and debating magical theorems. No one else could understand what it was like to share tea with Princess Celestia as a student with her teacher, to learn under the princess of the sun herself with all of the lofty expectations that came with. They could share what it was like to carry burdens of responsibility, of fierce expectations, for better or worse.   Of course she liked Twilight.    Did she love her?   Well… now that seemed just as obvious. It had been right in front of her the entire time, and she had been blind to it.   Sunset was in love. That alone was terrifying.   And what was more, Twilight loved her as well… or had. What should have been impossible was now not only possible, but real.   And it was already over. Sunset could understand that. Accept it. She had to. There wasn’t any other choice.   Still… she wished she had been given a chance. Five minutes ago she had been fine. Now something in her chest was starting to claw and burn, making her feel sick at heart.   “Hey, uh, Twilight?” she tried. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to give me another shot, right?”    “No.” Twilight shook her head. “I’m sorry, Sunset.”   “… Yeah.”   Sunset turned her head down and stared at the tough scrape of grass between the cracks of the sidewalk. She scuffed it with her boot and willed her eyes to stop burning.   She loved Twilight. Finally she could admit that to herself.   And she was too late.   Sunset pressed her lips tight together as she hunched forward. Deep inside she could feel those fiery licks of anger, the instinctive need to find someone to blame, to let herself be angry. Her shoulder blades itched, right where she had once borne great dark wings.   It wasn’t fair.   “We can still be friends, Sunset,” Twilight said softly, reaching out and taking her hand. “This doesn’t have to be an end.”   Her hand tightened at that, her nails digging into the flesh of her palm, and she bit down hard to hold back the anger that threatened to burst.   It was a break up! Of course it was the end! Except… except… She blinked, the tightness between her shoulders loosening as she sat there, stunned.   “Ah geez.” Sunset slapped a hand to her forehead. What was she thinking? What was she doing? “Wow. Sorry, Twilight. Nearly got away from myself.”   Sunset let out a long slow breath, sinking back and letting the tension and anger seep out of her. It was so easy to sink into that sucking quagmire, but Sunset knew how to work herself free this time.   She wasn’t angry. Not truly.   She was hurt. And despite that ugliness within her that wanted the world to burn with her, she didn’t want to hurt Twilight. No, that was the very last thing she wanted because… because she loved her.   Her eyes burned, and she forced herself to breathe.   They sat there and the night slowly passed. The moon continued its lazy course across the velvet sky. Off in the distance an errant robin began its high lilting song that rose, wavered, and faded into the silence.   Then Sunset realized something she had been forgetting.   “What about you, Twilight?” Sunset asked, turning to face her. She became abruptly aware that she had been thinking only of herself, her own pain, her own misery. But it was Twilight who had spent that whole night agitated and nervous. It was also Twilight who had once again fallen silent and withdrawn adt her side. “Are you okay?”   “Yes, I… well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. About what I want, about love. I love my friends and family dearly, and I like the idea of romance, but I’m not sure if it’s what I want.” She paused, shrinking down and rubbing her arm. “I think there’s something missing or broken in me. Something everyone else seems to have so naturally.”   “What do you mean?”   “I’m not sure,” Twilight mumbled, and then raised her eyes. “When I look at you, I should want to kiss you, right? If you love someone, you should feel that, right?”   It was such an honest question, almost childlike, and Sunset felt it right in her heart.   “I… I think so,” Sunset said thickly. “But maybe it’s okay if you don’t feel it. Or hey, I might just not the right one for you. That’s not your fault.”   “Maybe.” Glancing down, she curled in tighter. “I just wish I had realized this sooner. Maybe I wouldn’t have hurt you. I’m always so afraid of disappointing others, and now that’s exactly what I’m doing: I’m letting you down.”   Sunset let out a stunned breath, realizing that Twilight was hurting more than she had let on. That was irony again.   “No you’re not, Twilight.” Sunset moved closer and pulled an arm around her narrow shoulders, pressing tight. “You’re being honest with me, and you’re doing it because you care.”   “Of course I care, Sunset, you’re my friend.”   “And we’ll keep being friends, no matter what. Hey, if we can still be here after everything, we can survive a little break up.”   Twilight gazed at her, looking more vulnerable than Sunset was used to, and leaned into Sunset, lightly resting her head on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” Twilight muttered again, much softer.   “I know.”   Light breezes swept over them, wonderfully cool, pushing thin wisps of cloud that glinted in the moon, reflecting white and silver on the lake.   “Hey, you remember what I said about the sun and the moon’s orbits earlier?” Sunset asked, nodding to the gibbous moon high overhead. “There’s something else strange in this world. See, when the sun sets here, it doesn’t just disappear beneath the horizon like in Equestria.”   “Huh? Oh, because…” Twilight paused, frowning thoughtfully. “You mean because it continues circling the earth?”   “Exactly. Which means that as the sun sets, it also rises somewhere else in the same moment.” She grinned. “It’s all a matter of where you stand.”   Twilight straightened at that, staring hard towards the tree-filled horizon as if trying to imagine it. “Huh. That’s...”   “Cool, right?” Sunset said, once more feeling herself. “Just ‘cause it’s the end, doesn’t mean it can’t also be a beginning. As friends.”   Twilight turned to stare at her, almost unbelieving, and Sunset realized just how much Twilight needed to hear it as well. After all, she was new to this as much as Sunset was—in fact, even less so. This was Twilight’s first romance. Her first break up. Sunset could at least make sure it was a good one.   “And maybe you’re right,” Sunset went on, “Maybe it’s pointless to end something that didn’t quite exist in the first place. But if it helps, we can say it’s over and done with, no hard feelings. There’s just one thing I need to do before that...”   Sunset stood and then pulled Twilight to her feet. Again there was an almost unexpected shyness from Twilight, a hesitancy. A natural born ruler waiting to follow where Sunset might lead. Two girls learning what love is, and learning how it ends.   Sunset took her face in both of hers and stared into her beautiful eyes. They did indeed sparkle, and for that moment they held all of existence.   And Sunset kissed her. A real kiss, eyes closed, and bodies flush against each other. The kind of kiss that made one rise up on her toes and feel like she might be drifting towards heaven. It felt as sweet and timid as a very first. It was a first kiss. And it was also a final kiss.   Gently they came apart, and seemed to come back to the ground, gravity and the cold night once again settling on them.   Twilight grinned, her cheeks quite pink. “So does this mean we’re officially dating now?”   “Yep,” Sunset said cheerfully. “And officially over.” In just twenty minutes, or maybe twenty seconds, they had gone full orbit from friends to lovers, to exes, and right back to being friends.    Twilight’s eyes shone under the golden streetlight. “You really are incredible, Sunset Shimmer.”   Sunset scoffed, grinning. “Now that’s just rude.”   Twilight laughed, a sweet, light sound that seemed to smooth out those remaining sparks of tension, but couldn’t quite clear the lingering awkwardness. The night seemed to move faster after that, or like the world was paused and now it wasn't. Soon after they walked back in a peaceful silence, not unlike before, arriving at the familiar portal in front of the school, which was all quiet and draped in shadow. They stood there for a minute, neither looking at the other and letting the awkwardness fester.   Sunset cleared her throat when Twilight didn’t move. “Guess this is goodbye. For now, anyway,” she said, twisting her fingers behind her arms. “Yeah... oh wait, your jacket!” Twilight began to pull it off, but stopped at Sunset's light touch. “How about you keep it,” Sunset said, making Twilight pause, blinking at her. “A memento of our tragic romance.” Twilight seemed ready to argue, but instead she just rolled her eyes and pulled it back on, looking down shyly. She turned towards the portal but hesitated, and instead she faced Sunset again. Gently she took her hands and held them tight, as if trying to hold Sunset together with just that. She wore that same sweet smile, tinged with a new melancholy.   “I’ll always love you, Sunset Shimmer.”   It took Sunset a moment to work around the lump in her throat. She wasn’t used to hearing those words… much less saying them. Had she ever spoken them before?   “Love you too, Twilight.”   And because she couldn’t resist, and because her heart was nearly full to bursting, Sunset leaned forward and lightly kissed her cheek. In the span of a breath Twilight embraced her, a solid, wonderful pressure that Sunset leaned into, each trying to speak a hundred things without words. For the moment that they held each other, time seemed to graciously pause for them alone…   And then it was over.   They came apart once more, and Sunset found herself feeling better. A part of her still ached. Eventually she would go to her friends for comfort, but at least for a little while she wanted to be alone. For a time she would grieve for what was lost, nurse that hurt and anger… and then let it rest.   “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Twilight said, as Sunset pulled her hands away.   “I’ll be fine,” Sunset said nonchalantly with a slight wave of her hand. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still going to eat ice cream and be mopey. This is after all, my first real break up—no offense to Flash—and I mean to do it right. Besides, everyone knows calories don’t count for break up ice cream—it’s just science.”   Twilight giggled at that, and Sunset felt her own smile soften.   Then Twilight paused, and an almost horrified look came over her face. “Wait—you’re not serious, are you?”   A pause, and then Sunset burst into laughter, doubling over and almost crying while Twilight looked on, before beginning to laugh herself.   “You are kidding,” Twilight said, still skeptical.   “Ha! Ahhh… I have no idea,” Sunset said, wiping under her eye. “Who knows how physics work here? Hey! Care to test it out?” Sunset said, lifting her eyebrows and possibly looking flirty at the worst time ever. “Want to come over sometime to my place to eat ice cream and watch stupid movies together?”   “What? You mean like a break up party,” Twilight said slowly, frowning. “With the girl I’m breaking up with?”   Sunset nodded, grinning so hard her cheeks hurt.   “That definitely isn’t in any of my books,” Twilight muttered, crossing her arms.  But she couldn’t quite keep back her growing smile even as she tried to look chastising. “And that doesn’t follow any of the scientific method, you know, especially with just one sample study.”   Sunset nodded again.   Twilight sighed with her whole body, and yet it ended as a faint laugh. “So then… next Saturday night?”   Sunset beamed. And then, because it was absurd, and it was all wrong, and because if she didn’t laugh she might cry, she gave the only reasonable answer.   “It’s a date.”