> Spitfire's Off Day > by Soaring > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Leaving The Door Open (To A New Relationship) > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Spitfire groggily woke up. Her head was killing her, enough to make her wince in pain. She held her head with her hoof, and her wing had reflexively snapped painfully to her side. She attempted to recall what happened last night. She had stayed up, her restlessness stemming from the previous day’s workout, and the one before that. She had pushed herself to the limit, trying to keep up with her teammates. They looked up to her, so she had to keep up the image of pristine flight, and the mental fortitude to keep pushing on as a Captain of the Wonderbolts. And yet, here she was, after putting in the extra hours. She was in her bed, fighting off a headache, and a rising temp. She could feel it and she knew what was going on. She was sick. She was sick in bed. She groaned as she sunk back into her creature comforts, her pillow propping her just enough to feel… okay, while her mattress captured her form. Her wings had retracted back to her sides, so she flipped over and cuddled back into her bed. She clutched her pillow, nuzzling it slightly and sighed. Comfort evaded her. A cough escaped her. Then another.  “Whoever got me sick is about to see Faust.” “Well, I am definitely not the reason for that.” Spitfire’s eyes widened as she flipped back over. She peered at the door, her wings now out and pushing the blanket she had over her to the side.  Then, she calmed down. She knew who this was. “Anon… what are you—” “Had to pay one of my favorite ponies a visit. Did you know you left your door unlocked?” “No…” Spitfire said, her gaze downcast. “That’s definitely not like you, so after knocking and trying to get you to come to the door, I just walked in to check on you. I’m glad I decided to do that because man… you look like shit.” Spitfire weakly chuckled. “You always have a way with words…” “Damn straight. It’s why ponies love me!” “Keep telling yourself that, Anon. It’s good for your health,” Spitfire said with a slight smirk. She knew it probably looked to him like her lip was fighting to stay in place, but it’s not her fault that every muscle of hers felt a bit heavier. Egh. “Sorry you have to see me like this—eep!” Anon had walked over to her bed and fixed up the sheets. He then patted her head and tousled her mane, making it more of a mess of a bedhead than it already was. She tried to flick her forehoof to beat him away, but she was too weak. So, she surrendered to his ways, for now. “There, that’s better,” Anon said. His hand grazed Spitfire’s cheek, causing her to feel even hotter than before. “You know, you ponies are so cute. It’s kind of like a weapon of yours or something. Either that, or I’m seeing things and you actually look like you have two buck teeth that you could land a plane on, and your eyes are actually eldritch portals and—okay I’m stopping. I’m stopping!” Spitfire grinned as she was able to summon just enough strength to bat him with her wing. The human, who she had met through her meetings with Princess Celestia on the security council (Wonderbolts had a stake here, as they could be deployed as an elite scouting task force as needed). He was there to ‘observe how Equestrian politics worked’ by the decree of Celestia herself, who was apparently pretty good friends with Anon. It was strange because Spitfire never made the connection, but it should’ve been more obvious. She wasn’t made privy to his entire backstory. What she did know was that this was strange. Strange because that day, she had paid more attention to him than to the meeting. And surprisingly, so did Anon with her. They had seen each other from across the room at their first meeting, and they kept that gaze for way too long. She definitely had to ask about him after said meeting. So she did, and he was more than happy to oblige. Ever since then, they’ve gone from acquaintances to slightly closer to friends, to best friends in a matter of a year. And she was happy about that. She was happy that he would visit. She was just a bit peeved he would do it unannounced, but who better to help her today than her best friend? Her best friend that she was totally not attracted to. Yep. Not one bit. Spitfire licked her lips. They were dry. Just like her mouth. She was thirsty. “Uhh, Anon?” “Yeah, Spitty?” Spitty, the nickname she got called in school, and subsequently, by her teammates. And now by him. Egh. “Could you get me some water?” “I can do that. On the rocks or lukewarm?” “On the rocks. Make sure I don’t wake up again.” “Death is not in the cards, but I’ll see if I can make this the best water you’ve ever drank! I’ll be back.” With that, Anon walked out of her room and into the hall, probably to see if he could make his way to her kitchen in her suite without bumping his head on some random doorframe—“ACK! Stupid door!”—and he hit his head like she predicted.  “Did you learn anything?!” she attempted to shout. The mistake was that he left the room to her bedroom open, and he could definitely hear her despite how hoarse her voice was. She coughed just as she thought that. “Yeah, why don’t you ponies decide to raise your doors a bit? I’m about as concussed as a professional American football player every time I ram my head into one of these!” Spitfire rolled her eyes. “Just remember to duck! It’s not hard!” “That’s what you would say! Ah, there’s your fridge!” “It took you that long to find it?” Spitfire could hear Anon’s voice become louder, not because he was shouting, but because he was walking right back to her room. She smiled as he saw the human round the corner and back into her bedroom, sporting a water bottle in one hand, and a glass of water with a few ice cubes dancing in it in another. “Dude, your definition of a fridge is basically a small icebox with a few bottles of water in it. Mine is a much grandiose vault of chilly and slightly below room temperature goodies. We are not the same.” Spitfire chuckled. “Well I’m glad, because I don’t have to worry about traumatic brain injury by simply walking into another room.” She took the glass the human offered her and took a generous sip from it. She sighed and licked her lips. “Nice water, by the way.” Anon placed the bottle on her bedside desk before taking a bow. “Thank you. I am the chef for the day and I will take every compliment and put it in my journal, which is big by the way as I get so many compliments every day.” “I assume that the majority of the pages are blank because you are not given that many compliments.” “You are mistaken, little mare,” Anon said, wagging his finger at her. Stupid finger. “I get compliments from nobles, Celly, and even that little goofball of a sister of hers. They all adore me.” “Adoring and complimenting somepony are two different things, Anon.” “Yeah? And so is you getting better and you being sick. Let’s try to shoot for getting you better.” He pulled up a chair he had in her room and sat beside the poor mare, who was now flushed with anxiety and embarrassment. See, Celestia had given ponies the ability to feel things. And Spitfire was feeling not only sick, but also a bit peeved by Anon. She was happy he was here, but she was not happy he was here. Every time he was here, her heart would be a bit more full, and that was not like her, because she did not want to feel this way. She had felt this way once before, with another pony, but he turned out to be the stallion who was not a fan of having a relationship. It hurt her for a while when he left, mostly because that meant that she had to experience being single again, and she didn’t know how to face it. Years later, Spitfire had put these feelings away. Locked them up behind a cellar door that led to nowhere. Now, they had broken out, manifesting in her ever since Anon and her became friends. What was she to do with these feelings? Execute them now, or execute them in a back alley? She wasn’t a fan of violence, so the second option wasn’t one she wanted to tap into, but the first one… The first one she was afraid of. She was afraid of losing a friend she cared about. “Spitty?” “Y-Yeah?” “You okay?” Spitfire felt Anon’s gaze pierce right through her. “Uh… yeah.” She took a sip of the water still in her hooves, before setting it aside. “Sorry, was thinking of something.” “Do you want to talk about it?” The words she was dreading on hearing. She wasn’t a fan of talking about her feelings, those were for her non-existent therapist to hear. Yet… was she ready? She had these feelings bubbling in her for quite some time.  But did she deserve it? Spitfire shook her head. “Uh… not exactly, but it’s going to bother me if I don’t talk about it.” “So that’s a yes?” “Yeah, you dolt.” “I am not a dolt, nor a colt. I am a human, Spitty. And I’m one that cares about you, even if you don’t know it.” “I know,” Spitfire said. She popped off her pillow, adjusting it to prop her up even further so she could now face Anon properly. “I know. I’m glad you do. Somebody has to.” Anon chuckled and patted her head again. “You know, a lot of ponies care about you. Your teammates. Celestia. Me.” “You’re not a pony.” “I have to say that otherwise you’ll be confused if I said ‘people’.” “People?” “Exactly,” Anon said with a snap of his fingers. She laughed. “So, a lot of ponies and one human care about you. Why do you feel this way?” “It’s… complicated.” “I have heard that way too much from women. It’s always a bad sign for a guy. Either she’s not interested and is trying to be polite, or she’s really, really in a complicated situation that she can’t explain without going on a thousand word diatribe on why she is in said a thousand word complication. It’s… tiring.” Spitfire scooted closer to Anon and smiled. “Way to vent out your frustrations, Anon.” “We are pretty similar in that way, aren’t we?” “Well I haven’t ranted yet, so no.” Anon rolled his eyes. “Are you going to start?” Spitfire sighed. “I guess. I’ll start by being as direct as possible, because I know you operate on a one track mind.” “Thanks for saying politely that I’m a space cadet, Spitty.” “That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Spitfire replied, pushing a hoof into his side on the word ‘you’. Anon fake winced and groaned. “Besides, this is important. And I’m being honest, that’s all.” “Good because if you lie to me, I’ll make sure Celly considers upping the ante on capital punishment. She’ll sentence you to be tickled by the tickling squad in the dungeons.” “Have mercy!” Spitfire professed. She coughed as she said this, and Anon decided to hold her a bit closer to him. “A-Anon?” “Sorry, you were coughing and I needed you to stop sounding like Rarity, so pulling you in for a hug was all I could think of.” Spitfire was on fire right now. Physically, her head was pounding, thanks to her compounded headache. She was probably blushing because of her mental forest fire she had going on, since Anon was now pulling her closer to him and she was not prepared for it. After all, he was part of her problem. “If I start sounding like Rarity, get out the Fireball.” “Nope, not for a sick pony like you. I’ll just tell you to take a drink of water because you’re way too thirsty.” “Thanks…” “No problem. But still, we have to talk, don’t we?” Spitfire sighed again. “Yep. Promise me you won’t think less of me?” “I promise.” She steeled herself and let the words tumble out. “I like you. I like you a lot, Anon. It’s… been eating me up the past few months and—” “Sorry to interrupt, but you like me?” She looked up to see his eyes widened, and his jaw still attempting to pick itself up. She chuckled. “Yes.” “Like like me?” “Dude, are you a stallion or a colt?” “Sorry, I don’t speak Equestrian.” “Stupid,” Spitfire said, before breaking out of his embrace for a moment. “Sorry, you probably shouldn’t be so close to me when I’m saying this. Might make you cuddle me to death.” “Not a bad way to go out,” Anon said, before shaking his head. “But yeah, that might be wise. I’m not a fan of squeezing somepony to death.” “Good, because my team needs me. So please don’t.” “Sounds good. Anyway, so you like me in that way. When did it start?” “After we went out for hayburgers and a night on the prowl. You… got me that giant bear over there, remember?” In the corner, stood a bear. It was tall. It was fluffy. It was also a gift from Anon. Anon smiled and looked over at the bear. “Yep, that was a fun night. I’m surprised that I somehow won that thing. Who knew I had actual luck in raffles?” “I don’t know, but I was just… happy. I hadn’t been with somepony in so long that it just hit me at once that night.” “You were pretty needy that night.” Spitfire felt her face crunch together, like she was glaring at him with a thousand daggers. “What do you mean by that?” Anon held his hands up. “I know what you’re thinking. But trust me when I say this…” He took a deep breath. “I knew you liked me.” “W-What?” “Yeah. It wasn’t that night I guessed it, but do you remember when I was being hit on by that mare at the bar in Canterlot?” “Yeah, she was trying to flirt with you.” “Yep, and you stepped in and told her to back off.” “That was literally weeks ago.” “Yep. And nopony else tried to jump in. They were probably too stunned to do anything. I mean, Soarin and Fleetfoot were talking about it for the rest of the night, remember?” Her cheeks were heating up, and she felt more inclined to play with her forehooves than look at Anon. “I… I tried passing it off as her trying to attack you—” “Dumb decision by the way. Made it way more obvious.” “That’s why Fleetfoot teased me back in the hotel room…” “Good work on that, by the way.” “Shut up.” The two stared at each. They stared and then they started laughing. Loudly. Their laughter could be heard in that apartment of Spitfire’s, but that didn’t deter them. After a few moments, they calmed down, Spitfire first. She looked up to Anon with enough love to fill up a colony of Changelings, and that was saying something. She really loved him, didn’t she? Yet, she hadn’t gotten an answer from him. She needed to hear it. “So… Anon?” “Yeah?” “Do you… like me back?” Anon chewed on those words, his face blank. He wore it well. His gaze was halted strictly on her.  Then, he wiped a hand through his hair. His short hair he had cut recently. She knew that because she was with him when he did it… she was with him a lot recently. This wasn’t helping her nerves right now. This wasn’t helping her at all. Anon spoke up, “I think I do.” “You think you do?” “Yeah. It’s hard to really say it’s the same way. I never thought of you ponies like that.” “You never thought of us like that?” “Yeah, I mean, it’s hard to explain, but I’ve been here for quite some time, but not enough to accept the fact that I still am the only one here. You all sound human, but you’re not human. You’re ponies with the ability to speak English—” “Equestrian.” “Whatever, English speaking horse. Anyway, you talk like humans, you probably feel the same way humans do, yet you’re small horses. You have some mannerisms of them, and then you act similarly to humans. It confuses me. It makes me wonder why I’m cursed with this. Why am I even here?” “If you start thinking like that, you’ll never feel at home.” Where did that come from? Anon tilted his head. “I never thought of it like that, but that makes sense.” He tapped a lone finger on his chin. “Say, why do you like me?” “Because you care about me.” “So does Soarin.” “He’s too busy eating apple pies and munching on Fleetfoot’s feathers to care in that way.” Anon raised a brow. “Oh… they’re?” “You say you knew about me but you haven’t noticed how Soarin looks at Fleetfoot?” “I…” Anon started, but she noticed he lost himself in his thoughts, his gaze looking elsewhere. Then, he returned back to her, smiling. “Touché.” Spitfire shifted on the bed. Her wings were really uncomfortable right now, and her heart was racing a mile a minute. She took a deep, shaky breath. “Not to mention that you not only care about me more than they do, I just… feel right with you. We mesh well, don’t we?” “That we do,” Anon said. He pulled her back into an embrace and petted her mane. “You know, I get it now. So you like me. And now I have to figure it all out, don’t I?” “Well if you don’t want to answer, you can just keep petting me and—” “Nah, I should probably give you an answer, but I’ll keep petting you because you look so adorable right now.” “I will burn you where you stand,” Spitfire barked, before being booped on her muzzle. Her vision went cross. “Nope, not with those cross-eyes you won’t. Besides, you like me too much to do that.” Spitfire groaned. “Shut up.” “Don’t you want me to tell you—” “Nevermind, keep talking.” “Thatta-girl,” Anon said, petting her mane still. He was gentle with her mane, making her coo. “So, you want an answer, and I… don’t know how to answer.” “You don’t know how?” “It’s… complicated, like you said.” “Yeah, but I didn’t know it would be this complicated for you. I thought you’d either reject me, or tell me you’ll think about it.” “You didn’t even think I’d say yes?” “Have you said yes?” “Stop playing this like it’s twenty questions. I’m not a good show contestant.” Spitfire groaned. “Just get to the point then!” “Okay, okay. Sheesh.” Anon scratched the back of his head with his hand, before looking into Spitfire’s eyes. She could see him at that point, all of him. And it was strange. “I… I like you too. But I may need some time to warm up to it.” “W-Warm up?” “You mares are a bit different from human women. And… I think I need to mentally battle with everything, but I think I can do it if I’m with you, Spitfire.” He said her actual name. She knew he was being serious about this. And she was happy. She was happy because he was giving this a shot. He was giving her a shot. She would not be alone any longer.  Spitfire grinned at him and this time pulled him closer. She pulled him closer than he pulled her in, and it was warm. It was warm in all the right ways. Her headache subsided, her cough didn’t return, and her ears were warm, like her cheeks, like her heart, like her everything. Part of her even wanted him to ruffle her feathers a bit, but that might be too soon. So, she opted to give him a slight kiss on the cheek. Anon gasped. “Spitfire? What was that for?” “Thank you for liking me back.” Anon smiled. “No problem.” The two sat there in each other's embrace. It would be only a matter of time before Spitfire was not sick. But Spitfire didn’t care. She just wanted to be hugged. To be loved. Thankfully, she found someone who would do just that.