PASTEDOWN
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3539 20.5 KB 199
3539 20.5 KB 199
>Time stops.
>It wasn’t a slow crawl, it was as abrupt as a dragon crashing into a mountain.
>One minute, you’re lounging on a checkered blanket beneath the dappled shade of a tree, stealing glances at the unicorn you’ve had your eye on the moment you stepped hoof in Ponyville.
>There sits Rarity, her coat catching sunlight like fresh snow, drawing admiring looks from every direction — stallions and mares alike.
>But for you, it’s beyond her looks — it’s the way she tosses her perfectly coifed mane, the gentle lilt of her delicate laughter — little things that make your face burn hotter than the roaring fires of Tartarus itself.
>You’ve always averted your eyes when she catches you staring, terrified she’ll read everything in your expression, see right through to where her sapphire eyes have carved their permanent place in your dreams.
>Those same eyes are now inches from yours, wide with surprise, while something impossibly soft presses against your mouth and sends lightning down your spine.
>This kiss — this impossible moment you’ve imagined countless times — her scent like vanilla and jasmine, her breath warm against your skin — is perfect.
>If only it were actually your doing.
>The pressure of hooves shoving your head forward snaps you back to reality.
>Rarity jerks backward, alabaster cheeks flushed a deep crimson.
>Not as bad as yours, you’re sure.
>Before words form, she grabs her things with a frantic magical aura, turns on her dainty hooves, and gallops off toward her boutique, her tail streaming behind her like a banner of retreat.
>Only one pony orchestrated this disaster.
>And only one pony can be so tactless.
>”Huh, that went a lot better in my head…”
>”Rainbow!”
>As Applejack scolds Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy hovers nervously at your side.
>”Um, Anon, are you okay?” she murmurs.
>But you ignore her and whip around to the source of your misery.
“What in Tartarus were you thinking?!”
>”Anon-!” Applejack starts, but Rainbow Dash cuts her off.
>”Sorry somepony finally gave you a push! If I’d left you two alone, you’d still be making awkward eye contact come Hearth’s Warming!”
“A ‘push’?! You call what you did a ‘push’? You practically tackled us into a public spectacle, you featherbrain!”
>Your shouting draws the eyes of nearby picnickers. They begin to drift away, whispering and glancing back over their shoulders.
>If Rainbow Dash feels the sting of your words, she hides it behind a cocky, unrepentant sneer.”Looks like it only took a featherbrain to see how much you two like each other! You know how long Rarity’s been waiting for you to finally grow a spine?”
>You can’t even process the implication — Rarity, waiting for you? — because you’re too busy fuming, emotion boiling your blood.
“That wasn’t your decision to make! You think you’re helping, but you just made things ten times worse! Rarity was mortified!”
>Rainbow snorts, “She’ll get over it. She needed this — you both did! Unless you want to spend the rest of your life pining for Rarity with your tail between your legs!”
>You clench your jaw. Every word grinds like sand between your teeth.
“It’s not your job to decide if, when, or how anypony does anything. Maybe you should mind your own business!”
>”My business is my friends! And you two are my friends, so yeah — it kinda is my business!”
>By now, the rest of your friends are holding both of you back, trying to prevent further escalation.
>Applejack and — to a lesser extant — Fluttershy coax you to calm down while Twilight Sparkle and Spike do the same for Rainbow. Pinkie Pie stands frozen, tears welling in her eyes as she watches.
“Then I’m no longer your friend!” you snap.
>Everypony falls silent, even Rainbow Dash. Their eyes go wide.
>”Y-You don’t mean that…” she stammers, her bravado finally slipping.
>But you don’t care.
>You yank free from their grip and stomp away from the tree.
>All you hear behind you is the thrum of wings flying off in the opposite direction.
>You spend the rest of the day sealed inside your cloud house, punching your pillow until your cyan hooves leave dents in the fluffy surface.
>You flop onto your back, wings splayed across the bed, staring up at the drifting vapor of the ceiling where wisps of cloud curl and twist like your tangled thoughts.
>Outside your window, the sky simmers with the last streaks of orange and violet as the weather factory works overtime, painting streaky sunset stripes over Ponyville.
>The sun is long gone, but the town’s evening lights twinkle below like fallen stars, beautiful in a cold, far-off way.
>But you’re not thinking of that right now.
>Right now, you’re stewing in your own head — no, more like marinating — like one massive, ridiculous slab of Rainbow Dash jerky.
>You groan and sock the pillow again, sending up a little puff of vapor.
“Way to go, Dash,” you mutter, your voice cracking slightly.
>You clench the pillow to your chest, muffling a frustrated growl.
>A twitch runs through your ears.
>You swear you can still hear Anon’s shouts echoing inside your skull, each word like a hammer against your temples: ”You think you’re helping, but you just made things ten times worse!” and ”Maybe you should mind your own business!”
>But the one that haunts you most, twisting your stomach into knots: ”Then I’m no longer your friend!”
>Tears well up again, hot and stinging at the corners of your eyes.
>The idea of losing Anon’s friendship twists your heart.
>But you just couldn’t stand seeing him wear that dumb look on his face at the mere mention of Rarity.
>What else were you supposed to do when every glance between them felt like a knife between your ribs?
>Maybe you hoped that if they actually started dating, your own feelings would just wash away.
>You roll over, pressing your cheek into the cool, cloudy mattress.
>You hate that you’re jealous, you hate that you care, and you especially hate that you don’t know what to do about it.
>No, you know exactly what to do.
>You need to wipe these stupid tears away, pull yourself together, and apologize like a proper adult should.
>But just imagining Anon’s face — that look of betrayal and disappointment — makes your stomach drop faster than a botched Sonic Rainboom.
>Rarity first, then.
>Maybe if you grovel extra hard, she’ll at least listen to you.
>With grim determination, you drag yourself out of bed, ignoring how your mane clings to your damp face and the raw sting behind your eyelids.
>You take in a long, shuddering breath, then exhale hard, clearing out all the sappy air in your lungs.
>Without another thought, you launch yourself through your doorway, wings snapping open with purpose.
>The cool evening air rushing between your feathers as you practice your apology.
>You nearly zipped past the boutique, lost in your thoughts.
>You keep forgetting how small this town is — or maybe you’re just too fast a flyer.
>Either way, you hesitate to land — your apology isn’t quite ready.
>The boutique’s purple roof shimmers in the late afternoon sun as you circle once more, your cyan wings catching golden light.
>You can’t be swimming in the clouds forever, so you descend in tight spirals and settle with a soft thud on the cobblestone path right in front of the entrance, your tail swishing nervously behind you.
>Your foreleg rises to knock, then you notice the “OPEN” sign displayed in the window.
>You lower your hoof.
>Maybe it’s okay to walk in — she hasn’t locked up yet, after all.
>Then again, walking in uninvited might seem rude after what you did.
>But what if she just slams the door in your face?
>You raise your hoof, drop it again, then growl under your breath.
>Ugh, you hate second-guessing like this!
>Since when does Rainbow Dash stand paralyzed outside a stupid door?
>With a frustrated flick of your tail, you push the door open; the bell betrays you with a cheerful jingle that makes your ears flatten against your head.
>You scan the room for her ribbon-like mane.
>In the back corner, you spot her bent over her sewing table, working on a garment.
>You’ve seen her work before, so you can tell when something’s off.
>Her stitching — normally so elegant and precise that each thread seems to dance through the fabric — now jerks violently through the delicate material.
>Her normally immaculate workspace is littered with loose threads and crumpled pattern papers.
>You clear your throat, praying your voice won’t crack like a filly’s.
“Uh, hey Rarity…”
>She doesn’t look up, but you see her sewing falter.
>”Rainbow Dash,” she says, her voice so cold it chills the air. ”If you’re here to purchase, we’re closed for the evening.” She tugs the thread through with a sharp jerk, eyes never leaving her work. ”If you’ve come to further humiliate me, you may as well get it over with.”
>Your wings sag at her words, the proud feathers that usually stand at attention now wilting like flowers left too long in the sun.
>The pit in your stomach feels like you’ve swallowed a thundercloud.
>She’s really, really mad at you.
>You take a careful step forward, hooves nearly silent on the polished floor.
“I, uh… I came to say I’m really, really sorry about today. I wasn’t thinking, and—”
>”You most certainly were not,” she snips, her sewing needle jabbing through the fabric such force you can hear a pop. ”I mean, really, I know you act on impulse, but what in Celestia’s mane compelled you to do something so…” She yanks the thread tight enough to pucker the delicate material. “…thoughtless of anypony’s feelings?”
>Your wings instinctively fold tighter against your body.
>Each word feels like a tiny barb working its way under your coat.
“Look, I know you’re upset—” you start, but she cuts you off without missing a stitch.
>”Oh, you know I’m ‘upset,’ do you?” The needle plunges back into silk. “How astute. It’d certainly be the first time.” She rises with the half-finished dress clutched in her magic, fabric trailing behind her like a wounded animal. “Perhaps next you might actually deduce why. Better to learn now than never.” The marrequin across the room wobbles as she yanks it onto the form.
>Biting your lip, you take a hesitant step forward.
“I—” The words catch somewhere between your chest and mouth, tangling with each rapid heartbeat. You stare at the polished floor, tracing invisible patters with your hoof. “I just… wanted to see you two happy.”
>The words come out smaller than intended — almost a whisper, but you press on.
“You both obviously like each other, I couldn’t just do nothing. I figured, y’know, maybe you just needed a little push.
>You wince, feeling your ears flatten against your mane as the unfortunate word choice hits you like a thunderbolt.
>”A ‘push’,” she repeats flatly. “You do realize it’s not supposed to be a physical push, hm?”
“Yeah, I’m well aware now…” you mutter, pawing at the polished floor.
>”Honestly, Rainbow, what you did is unforgivable — I mean, really, who in their right mind thinks it’s perfectly acceptable to shove another pony’s face into their crush’s in front of the entire town?”
>It wasn’t the entire town…
>She exhales, her shoulder dropping slightly.
>”But, that kind of wanton benevolence is very much like you.”
>She turns to face you fully, her sapphire eyes meeting yours for the first time since you entered.
>”Don’t misunderstand — I’m still upset. But, I can’t bring myself to hate a friend whom I hold dear.”
>A small, tentative smile touches her lips — like the first ray of sun after a storm.
>It takes all your willpower to not break down crying.
>You were hoping — praying you didn’t lose another friend.
”Thanks,” you whisper, brushing away what you swear aren’t tears.
>”Please, the pleasure’s all mine,” Rarity replies lightly.
>Your wings loosen and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding — but there’s still something itching at you.
>”Is something the matter, darling?” she asks, reading the worry on your face.
“You sure there’s nothing I can do to make it up to you?” you venture.
>”Darling, I appreciate it, but I think you’ve helped out quite enough,” she teases.
>You aren’t satisfied without at least doing Rarity a huge favor over your huge blunder.
“No-no — um, how about I — uh…”
>Then, your wings snap open as the idea hits you.
“Go out with Anon.”
>Rarity’s ears twitch. ”Excuse me?”
“I want you to go on a date with Anon.”
>”What are you on about?”
“Look, nopony knows Anon better than I do. It’ll be perfect, just think of me as your…” She tries to find the words, “…coach! I’ll coach you on what to say and what to do, and in no time flat he’ll be putty in your hooves.”
>”Rainbow, this seems a bit complicated, don’t you think?”
“Not at all. Look, you like Anon, don’t you?”
>Pink blooms across her white cheeks like dawn breaking over snow, spreading all the way to her ears.
>”W— of course I do.”
“Then let me help you win him over — this time with subtlety.”
>She opens her mouth to protest when the bell above the door chimes, announcing a sudden visitor.
>”Rarity? It’s Anon.”
>Before Anon swings the door fully open, you dive behind a densely-packed clothing rack, heart hammering against your chest like a thunderstorm.
>It didn’t take long to realize you aren’t alone — someone is huddled beside you, her alabaster coat almost glowing in the darkness, mint-green eyes wide with panic and reflecting what little light filters through the garments.
>Sweetie Belle gives you a guilty little grin, an empty juice box by her haunches and an open journal covered in fresh scribbles that betray she’s been camping out in this hiding spot long before you arrived.
>”Oh, Anon!” you hear Rarity’s warm greeting. “I wasn’t expecting anypony this late.”
>Through the rack’s narrow gap, you both catch a glimpse of his green coat as he shuffles forward, his hooves clicking hesitantly across the polished floor.
>”Sorry, I just — uh… I just wanted to say sorry — for earlier.” He stammers, his ears flattening against his head as his emerald eyes dart nervously around the room, landing everywhere but on Rarity’s face. Then, he blurts out, “These are for you!” all too desperately, thrusting a bouquet of vibrant daffodils and purple hyacinths bound in cloth the color of summer sky toward Rarity.
>”Oh! Why, thank you.” She plucks the flowers from his hooves and takes a dainty bite from a daffodil. “Mm! Still fresh.” A genuine smile spreads across her muzzle, she turns toward her kitchen to find a suitable vase.
>”Yeah, those were the freshest they had,” Anon says, his voice brightening as he relaxes slightly. “I practically had to fight Cranky for ‘em — that stubborn ol’ donkey just wouldn’t let up!”
>They both share a soft laugh at that, Rarity’s melodic giggle harmonizing with Anon’s deeper chuckle.
>Peeking through the rows of chiffon and tulle, you see Rarity’s expression soften as she delicately arranges the bouquet in a crystal vase.
>”It’s very thoughtful, Anon,” she purrs. “But please, you don’t owe me an apology.”
>”Of course I do,” he insists, shifting from hoof to hoof, his tail swishing nervously behind him like a metronome. “Even if it was Rainbow’s fault,” he says, the words dripping with bitterness, “I’m still partial to blame for not at least trying to stop it.”
>When he spits out your name, something inside you shrivels; your wings snap shut against your body, as if trying to make you smaller.
>”Oh? Was kissing me so bad?” She says with faux offense, flipping her purple mane dramatically as she turns away.
>Anon’s cheeks glow redder than the ripest apple from Sweet Apple Acres, but Rarity can’t hide her own deepening blush blooming across her muzzle.
>’Damn it, Rares — why did you say that if you were also gonna get embarrassed?!’ you think loudly to yourself while Sweetie Belle stifles a giggle.
>”N-no, I mean — not that it was bad! Just unexpected, th-that’s all,” he stammers.
>Rarity covers her muzzle with a hoof, though a playful glint dances in her eyes as she fixates on Anon.
>”Really~? I’m not convinced.” She circles him like a shark, her hooves clicking softly against the floor, the scent of her perfume wafting through the air with each graceful movement. “I suppose we can figure out if you enjoyed it or not by taking me on a date tomorrow. It’s the least you can do, after all.” She bats her long, curled eyelashes, her sapphire eyes gleaming with triumph beneath the crystal chandelier’s light.
>Anon freezes like he’s been hit with a petrification spell, his expression a perfect portrait of shock.
>You feel your own face contort into a stunned mask, Rarity’s sudden boldness surprising you.
>Beside you, Sweetie Belle’s eyes grow to the size of dinner plates, her pencil dropping silently onto her journal.
>”A d— uh, a d—date? Like, you-me kind of date, date?”
>Rarity gives a small nod, a delicate smile playing at the corners of her lips.
>”Y-yeah! I mean — uh, yes. I’d really like that,” he blurts out.
>Rarity’s entire face lights up at his answer.
>”Good, I expect you here tomorrow at — say — oh-nine-hundred?”
>”Oh-nine-hundred, yes. I’ll pick you up at oh-nine-hundred,” he repeats.
>You can hear him whisper ‘oh-nine-hundred, oh-nine-hundred,’ again and again, each repetition softer than the last, as if committing a sacred vow to memory while his hooves carry him toward the exit.
>”Oh, and Anon,” she calls before he’s out the door, her voice softening to that gentle, pleading tone she reserves for moments of genuine concern. Her eyes flicker briefly toward your hiding spot, almost imperceptibly. “Rainbow means well. Don’t be too hard on her.”
>Rarity…
>Anon looks back at her, his ears twitching with indecision.
>His gaze drops to the polished floor, tracing invisible patterns.
>The silence stretches until he finally lifts his head, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile that carries a silent promise, “Good night, Rares,” he says, his voice low and warm like embers.
>“Good night,” she replies softly as the door closes behind him with a gentle click, the bell above it tinkling like distant wind chimes.
>Rarity lets out a breath you didn’t realize she was holding, tension draining from her shoulders.
>A hoof digs painfully into your side, sharp and insistent like a dentist’s pick.
>Looking over at your culprit, she gestures with her head to get out of her spot now that Anon has gone.
>You were gonna!
>You emerge from behind the clothing rack, wings half-unfurled.
“Wow, Rares. I know I said to ask him out, but I didn’t think you’d practically sweep him off his hooves like that,” you say, glancing at the door as if Anon might burst back through it.
>”Oh, don’t tease me — it felt like my heart was about to leap out my chest any second!”
“Honestly, I didn’t expect Anon to actually have the courage to face you after this morning.”
>”Yes, well, I’m sure once he puts his mind to it he can be very surprising,” she says, staring at the closed door and biting her lip, her eyes glazed with a dreamy sheen.
>Ew.
>”Anyway,” she clops her hooves together, “I’ll be depending on you tomorrow, if it’s not too much trouble?”
“Of course. It was my idea, after all. Besides, I’ll be off tomorrow, so no worries.”
>”Good, get here early so we can go over details.”
“Aye-aye.” You give a mock salute.
>”Good night, Dash. Have a safe flight home.” She waves you off with a delicate flick of her hoof.
“Night, Rares. Oh—” you pause at the doorway, a mischievous grin spreading across your muzzle, “—and make sure Sweetie Belle doesn’t fall asleep behind the dress rack.”
>A tiny squeak echoes from the hiding spot, “Rainbow!” The voice high-pitched with indignation.
>”Sweetie Belle! How long have you been there?!” You hear Rarity calling, her voice rising an octave in surprise, the latter half muffled as the boutique door swings shut behind you.
>You grin, take a steadying breath of the cool night air, and dash off into the star-speckled sky.
>Thank Celestia things turned out okay — for now, at least.
by ilkTone
by ilkTone