torture


                                            >Consciousness finds its way back to you.

                                            >At first you're barely aware of your existence, but as more of your senses reengage, your brain sputters to life like a diesel on a cold morning.

                                            >The warm and softness of your bed...

                                            >Your eyelids feel like a million pounds, but they flutter open eventually.

                                            >You're laying on your side, staring directly at the nightstand.

                                            >The clock says 6:45, 15 minutes before your alarm.

                                            >Well, at least your circadian rhythm is in check.

                                            >You wipe the sleepies from your eyes disable the alarm manually. No point in getting the daily morning jumpscare.

                                            >Leaving the warm confines of your bedsheets feels akin to suicide, so you opt to stay.

                                            >You are definitely not a morning pony. You can barely think.

                                            >You roll over to get a slightly more comfortable lying position.

                                            >You plop back down on your pillow to get an eyeful of...

                                            >Him.

                                            >The light of your life, your boyfriend, and soon-to-be husband, resting peacefully beside you.

                                            >Sunlight pouring in from the window illuminates his side of the bed, giving him an almost angelic aura of light as particles of dust dance around in the air.

                                            >The sun reflects off of his silvery-grey coat with a blisteringly beautiful sheen.

                                            >His ear twitches to flick some of his messy bedmane away.

                                            >You scoot a bit closer to him and wrap a leg around him.

                                            >He barely makes a sound.

                                            >He's so beautiful.

                                            >Your drowsiness is overpowered by a burst of happiness and life.

                                            >He makes you so happy, you have trouble communicating it to him sometimes.

                                            >He's so nice, so caring, so thoughtful...

                                            >You can't imagine life without him anymore. He's your best friend and amazing lover.

                                            >Not even a moment later, as if on cue, he shifts in place his eyes flutter open.

                                            >He stretches and groans. He rests back on his pillow, and you see his glistening, drowsy hazel eyes lock squarely with yours, and he smiles.

                                            "Good morning, sweetie." You say softly before giving him a light kiss on the snoot. "You sleep well?"

                                            >He scoots close to you and pulls you close. He rests his head in your neck.

                                            >"Five more minutes." He says in a groggy tone. He is definitely also not a morning pony.

                                            "You got work today and I wanna make you breakfast."

                                            >He groans defiantly.

                                            >His mane smells so good…

                                            >He's so soft and warm…

                                            >You give him a little 'motivation' by gently shaking him

                                            >He groans again, but this time moves his head so he's touching his snout to yours, looking you in the eyes again.

                                            >"Can you make that skillet thing you made last week? The one with potatoes?"

                                            "Of course." You giggle, you're glad he likes your cooking.

                                            >He gives you a quick kiss on the lips before slowly, but surely, crawling out of his side of the bed. You follow suit.


                                            >You stretch and yawn. Time to start your day.

                                            >You head to the bathroom to freshen yourself up a tad. Your fiancé is still trying to find his way out of bed.

                                            >You splash some water from the sink into your face and give your hooves a nice wash.

                                            >You run your brush through your jet-black mane and it poofs into place.

                                            >You should really get started on breakfast. You don't want him to be late.

                                            >You trot out of the bathroom. He's standing outside, still groggy. He has a white towel wrapped around himself.

                                            >"I wish we could shower together today. That's always a nice pick-me-up.~" He says playfully, giving you a knowing look

                                            "Maybe tomorrow.~" You wink. "I'll start breakfast, you go get ready."

                                            >You give him another kiss on the lips for good measure and trot to the kitchen.

                                            >That scramble he mentioned does sound good…

                                            >You immediately get to work, and magic all of the ingredients and utensils you need onto the counter.

                                            >potatoes, onions, bell peppers, garlic and one egg to bind it all together.

                                            >You let some oil heat up in the pan while you dice up the veggies.

                                            >You throw them in as you dice them, let them brown nicely and soften.

                                            >Everything's in, making sure to add the garlic right at the end, don't wanna burn it, now do we?

                                            >A little salt and pepper to taste.

                                            >Just in time as you hear your lover trot out of the bedroom, donning his cute little red tie and white collar.

                                            "Just in time." You say jovially as you scoop your cooking evenly onto two saucers.

                                            >He trots up to you and pecks you on the cheek.

                                            >"Where would I be without ya'?" He says gently. He's so sweet.

                                            >You magic the food over to the dinette as you dig through the fridge for some orange juice.

                                            >0 Pulp, the way Celestia intended, Sunny D for life.

                                            >You pour yourself and your boyfriend a glass and go sit down next to him. He's already digging in.


                                            >You take a bite. You love home fries and bell peppers. Can't be beat.

                                            "You got a big day today, huh?"

                                            >"Yeah. I hope my boss gives me that raise."

                                            "I know you've worked hard for it. I'm sure he will."

                                            >"He's a little bit on the short-tempered side. I don't want to catch him on an off-day, you know?"

                                            "Yeah, wouldn't want that." You take a sip of your OJ.

                                            >You look over to your lover, who seems slightly downtrodden.

                                            >You can tell he's going over all of the ways it can go wrong in his head.

                                            >You put a reassuring hoof on his shoulder.

                                            >He looks at you.

                                            "Whatever happens, we'll weather the storm together. Always and forever."

                                            >He relaxes slightly and smiles at you, he places a hoof on yours and rubs back.

                                            >You both scarf down your breakfast in silence, just enjoying each other's company.

                                            >I think it's more that he keeps stuffing his face and can't talk.

                                            >You're really glad he enjoys it.

                                            >As final bites are taken, he stands up and stretches.

                                            >He gives you another kiss, your can taste fried potatoes and onions on his breath.

                                            >Tasty!

                                            >"I love you." he says, looking you in the eyes with a loving glare. "Thanks for breakfast."

                                            "Love you too, sweetie. Anytime." You beam a smile back at him and begin magicking the dirty dishes to the sink.

                                            >Your fiancé trots over to the front door and checks his saddlebag once over, making sure he has everything for work.

                                            >You follow suit to see him off.

                                            "You got everything?"

                                            >He grunts as he lifts the bag onto his back. "Yup."

                                            "Back at 4?"

                                            >"Indeed. I'll see you tonight."

                                            >He gives you a hug, and you hug back.

                                            >After a brief embrace, you peck him on the lips once more, for the road.

                                            "Good luck today!" You say, as he clicks the door shut behind him.

                                            >The world all rushes away from you, leaving nothing but a dark abyss.

                                            >You wake up.