Softie


                                            >You looked down at your watch one last time.

                                            >Ten to six; you were a little early.

                                            >Dash had told you to arrive “sometime around six and don’t bother knocking, let yourself in,” but in your time of knowing her, punctuality wasn’t her strong suit.

                                            >Still, you were excited to be invited in the first place. In all the time you had known her, you had never visited her house, she had always come to yours to hang out.

                                            >The cloudominium stood before you, the structure literally leaking rainbows from several orifices in the cloud formations.

                                            >The place might as well have had a giant, flashing neon sign saying “Rainbow Dash lives here!” in the front lawn.

                                            >Looking over the house, you started having second thoughts about heading inside so early.

                                            >Briefly, you contemplated hanging out at a fast food joint until you were perfectly on time.

                                            >That is, until you remembered that you were standing on a cloud and your chariot taxi had just left.

                                            >You clutched the cloudwalking amulet Twilight had made for you, thanking whatever deity was out there that you didn’t plummet to your death.

                                            >Against your better judgement, you began the short walk up her driveway, taking no time at all in closing the distance between where you originally stood and the front door.

                                            >Coming to a stop half a foot away from the door, you knocked your first two knuckles against it and stood with bated breath.

                                            >You knew that she insisted you could walk in of your own accord, but you valued your own space greatly and you didn’t want to impose on hers unknowingly.

                                            >So, for a solid minute, you waited for the sound of hoofsteps to eventually hit your ears.

                                            >They never did, though, so you tried knocking again, a bit more forcefully this time.

                                            >’Surely she would have heard that,’ you thought.

                                            >Waiting for another minute, however, proved fruitless.

                                            >Curious, you checked the latch on the front door by twisting the knob and pushing inward.

                                            >It gave easily; you stopped it before it went any further than being slightly cracked open.

                                            >With a sigh, you relented and accepted your only other choice besides waiting out in the cold.

                                            >The door opened without so much as a whisper among the ambient noise. As you fully entered the foyer, you shut the door behind you, taking care not to slam it.

                                            >A quiet click was the only sound that reverberated throughout the spacious entrance as you turned around to make your way farther into Dash’s abode.

                                            >Milling around, you checked the first floor for signs of her presence.

                                            >There wasn’t any trace of Dash on the floor, but you spotted two fresh boxes of pizza on her kitchen counter, and when you meandered over to them, discovered that they were still relatively hot.

                                            >She had made no mention of it prior, but she ordered pizza for the both of you.

                                            >A smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

                                            >You vowed to pay her back somehow, but first, you had to find her.

                                            >Heading back to the foyer, you strolled up to the second story, but the results of your search were largely the same as the first floor, even when you had searched the balconies.

                                            >One last time, you headed into the foyer, opting this time to ascend to the third floor, the last place she could be.

                                            >Before you could cross the threshold into the third floor, you heard a distant sniffle coming from somewhere beyond the curved archway leading into the moderately sized room.

                                            >Kingpin, the package has been located.

                                            >You sauntered into the room with your head on a swivel, looking for Dash, when your eyes landed on her.

                                            >She was seated in one of her lounge chairs facing toward the balcony of the room, away from you.

                                            >From your angle, you could see the corner of a book peeking out just past her figure, though her downturned head concealed most of the thing.

                                            >Strangely, a much stronger sniffle emanated from where she was sitting, which perturbed you.

                                            >It definitely wasn’t allergy season. Dash didn’t even have allergies, to boot.

                                            >On top of that, you heard her breath catch in her throat, a sound utterly alien to you.

                                            >Your brain struggled against itself before coming to a realization that you didn’t quite understand how to process.

                                            >Rainbow Dash, one of the most ridiculously charismatic and confident mares you had come to know, was sobbing.

                                            >Your heart instantly sank to a new low.

                                            >What could’ve brought her down like that?

                                            >You cared about her a lot more than you would’ve liked to have let on.

                                            >Before you could ponder any further, your voice acted for you.

                                            “Dash…?”

                                            >She nearly jumped out of her chair as she yelped, more than shocked at your sudden presence.

                                            >Whipping around toward you, her book flew out of her hooves, bouncing slightly on the ground before coming to a rest.

                                            >Getting a full view of her face for the first time that day, you saw that her eyes were bloodshot from crying, which brought you great pain to witness. There were some tear stains on her robe, as well.

                                            >“Wh- wha- Anon?!” she yelled out, absolutely bewildered at your presence.

                                            >Your hands immediately went up in a surrender position as you attempted to explain yourself.

                                            “I’m sorry! I tried knocking and you didn’t answer, a-and you said to let yourself in so-”

                                            >“Yeah, but I said around six, you dolt!” she exclaimed, covering up her face with her hoof to save posterity. “What time is it, anyway?”

                                            >A quick glance at your watch revealed the irony of her outburst.

                                            “...Six.”

                                            >As she set her hoof back down, her expression shifted from annoyance to surprise as she checked the clock on the wall, seeking to fact check your claim.

                                            >You followed her gaze and, sure enough, the clock read six on the dot.

                                            >She metaphorically deflated, going from surprise to contrition over her unwarranted outburst towards you.

                                            >“Sorry, Anon, I just…” she sighed, closing her eyes before opening them once more, looking your way. “I lost track of time is all. Sorry for yelling at you.”

                                            "No worries, Dash, it happens,” you replied as you rubbed your eyes to rid yourself of the excess stress that the whole debacle had given you. “Just glad to see you.”

                                            >She smiled, puffing air out of her nostrils in response.

                                            >Still, though, you couldn’t quite put your worries aside.

                                            “Are you alright, by the way…?” you inquired with a worried tone, being careful not to overstep.

                                            >She batted a hoof at the air, her trademark smirk coming back.

                                            >“‘Course, dude,” she said dismissively. “I was just uh…”

                                            >Her gaze darted in several different directions, clearly looking for an easy excuse.

                                            >While she was preoccupied, you took the opportunity to quickly take a look at the cover of what she was reading, your curiosity getting the best of you.

                                            >While you couldn’t make out much, you were able to discern a rather manly looking stallion with a chiseled jawline holding a beautiful mare, set against a cliff face with sea spray launching up from the face of the rocks.

                                            >...

                                            >No way.

                                            >Your brain refused reality, but your eyes were incapable of lying to you.

                                            >Dash was reading a romance novel.

                                            >There was nothing wrong with that at all, of course, you had just never pegged her as the type of mare who reads those kinds of books.

                                            >In a matter of seconds, Dash had worked out what you happened to be looking at and batted the book back in front of her chair with an outstretched wing.

                                            >Knowing full well how suspicious her sudden movement was, she attempted to hide that fact by smiling as widely as possible at you.

                                            >You inwardly relaxed, having discerned that she was just having a moment because of the book and not any serious matters.

                                            “Well, in any case,” you finally said, deciding to let whatever that was go. “I’m glad you’re okay, Dash.”

                                            >You grinned warmly at her as you sat down on one of the nearest lounge chairs not too far away from her.

                                            >Her tension seemed to melt away when you stopped with your detective efforts.

                                            >“Feeling extra soft today, are we?” Dash taunted, one eyebrow raised and a cocky smirk plastered across her face.

                                            >You suddenly felt like not letting it go.

                                            “Maybe,” you began. “but I could say the same thing about you, couldn’t I?”

                                            >Just like that, her tension returned in full force.

                                            >“The Dash? Mushy?” she exclaimed, faking her disbelief to try and shake you off of the trail. “Not in a million years, bub!”

                                            “Uh huh,” you said sarcastically, a smug grin on your face. “I bet you the book you were reading reflects that.”

                                            >You wiggled your eyebrows at her as her pupils shrunk to the size of pin pricks.

                                            >She shifted a bit, her taunting nature having ceased completely.

                                            >“How much did you see?” she asked in a no-nonsense manner, which caught you a bit off guard.

                                            >You brought your own teasing to a grinding halt, respecting the shift in tone.

                                            “I heard you crying, so I wanted to make sure you were alright. All I saw was the book cover,” you explained, hoping she’d be alright with that.

                                            >She sighed, hopping off of her chair to face you.

                                            >“Guess my secret’s out, then,” she relented, a defeated tone in her voice.

                                            >You frowned, confused by her statement.

                                            “What, you mean the rom-”

                                            >She darted up to your face with a powerful push of her wings, a gust of wind hitting you a millisecond later.

                                            >Her hoof quickly, yet gently, planted itself firmly on your lips as she shushed you.

                                            >“Don’t say it out loud, dork!” she whisper-yelled right into your face as she removed her hoof from your personal space.

                                            “Dash, it’s alright to enjoy that stuff,” you whispered back, sinking deeper into your seat.

                                            >She sighed heavily as she landed back on the ground in front of you.

                                            >“I know, I know,” she replied almost bashfully. “But think about it. A wonderbolt, ME no less, being into mushy, lovey stuff? Can you imagine what ponies would think if they knew?”

                                            >She trotted back to her chair and spun it around to face you, taking her own seat.

                                            “They’d think it’s cool that someone as awesome as you has a soft side?” you half-asked.

                                            >She raised an eyebrow at you as she scoffed.

                                            >“Try ‘lame,’ Anon,” she said in a defeated tone. “They wouldn’t be able to take me seriously anymore.”

                                            >She let her head fall back onto the rest of her chair and stared at the ceiling with a grunt.

                                            >You didn’t realize how much it actually bothered her.

                                            >Her love of reading was well known, what with her love for all of the Daring Do books, but no one had known about her thing for romance.

                                            >Well, until you.

                                            >You had to try and help her out.

                                            “Well, I still take you seriously,” you mused as you propped one leg over the other in your seat.

                                            >“Yeah, but you’re one of my best friends,” she said, her staring contest with the ceiling not finished.

                                            >You should’ve known she would say that.

                                            >Still, you pressed on.

                                            “Even if I wasn’t, I’d still think you were pretty cool,” you said, lightening the air.

                                            >She shifted her gaze to you, face still pointed at the ceiling.

                                            >You had her attention, and thankfully, that helped you keep the ball rolling.

                                            “I’d even go so far as to say it makes you cooler. I mean, think about it: Loyal, bodacious, fearless, AND has a mushy side? People would miss out big time if they dropped you just ‘cause of that.”

                                            >She picked her head up to look at you, her focus given solely to you.

                                            “Seriously, Dash, you’re a catch.”

                                            >You raised your eyebrows at your own accidental flirt but kept your spaghetti to yourself.

                                            >Your voice almost went on autopilot again to try and clear up any misconceptions, but…

                                            >You didn’t let it.

                                            >It paid off, too, because a genuine smile was plastered across her entire face.

                                            >Her blush was evident, but she didn’t seem to notice.

                                            >Or did she just not care?

                                            >“You’re a total dork, you know that, Anon?” she jested, hopping off of her chair and walking over to you.

                                            >When she reached you, she propped herself up on her hind legs as she reached out to receive you with her hooves.

                                            >You returned the gesture in kind as you slid off of your chair to kneel down on the ground.

                                            >You wrapped your arms around her barrel as she did the same with her hooves around your neck.

                                            >Her wings unfurled and wrapped around your back, encasing you further into the hug.

                                            >She rested her head on your shoulder with a content sigh as you both let the hug simmer.

                                            >“But you’re the best dork out there,” she said with a hint of affection.

                                            >Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest, but thankfully, you once again contained your spaghetti.

                                            >She couldn’t have meant…

                                            >…

                                            >You stopped yourself from going too deep in thought, saving your mental gymnastics for another time.

                                            >Both of you retracted from the embrace, yourself now fully standing.

                                            >Her blush had strengthened just a tad during your hug, but it quickly subsided once it was over.

                                            >“So…” she said, looking you dead in the eyes, seemingly feeling better.

                                            “So.” you replied in kind, a smirk creeping its way onto your face for the umpteenth time that night.

                                            >“You up for some pizza?”