>Living in Ponyville
>Finally used to the shorter doorframes
>You've been visiting the white one a few times a week to get some formal clothes fitted
>Dusk Shine insisted on it because of some meeting thing that was coming up in, like, five months
>The fashionista seems to have made a game of being elusive about his name
>Half of your meetings are making guesses at his name
>The other half is listening to him talk about advances in non-pony fashion while he has you try on clothes that can't exactly be described as comfortable
>You can't say you don't enjoy the time together, though
>His excitement is infectious, and he is pretty cute
>Plus, he walks with a fruity little sway which moves his tail enough that you occasionally get a decent view of the goods
>Some days, it's difficult to keep composure while he's taking measurements
>And he's getting better with the bipedal anatomy thing
>You almost had a decent dress shirt last time
>Almost
>It still tried to compress your shoulders into your neck, but it's progress
>He seemed pretty confident that the next one would be perfect
>You open the door to the Boutique and call out
"Hey, uh, R-Radiance? Look, I'm becoming inclined to give up on the name thing, but I'm here!"
>Something is off
>Specifically, the lights
>It's dark, everything is clean and put away, and the whole place feels abandoned
>Maybe he had to leave to buy something, but why was the door unlocked?
>Definitely not right
>You creep into the building, looking around for signs of life
"Hey, dude, you home? I hope I'm not walking in on a burglary in progress or something."
>You don’t like that you just gave yourself that idea
>Now you can hear your pulse
>You walk as quietly as you can through the showroom floor and into the kitchen 
>Clean, dark, devoid of life, and slightly chilly
>The freezer door is slightly ajar, and the enchantment inside is trying its best to keep the contents cold
>You push the machine closed and continue to the stairs, peeking into the laundry room as you pass it
>Also empty
>You're still a touch nervous about freezer looting burglars when you hear the sob from upstairs
>That sounds like... whatever his name is!
>The burglars have captured the fashion horse!
>Those fiends!
>Who knows what they're doing to him!
>You rush upstairs and look frantically between the doors
>You reach toward the closest door but hear another sob from the furthest one
>You reach the door in a fraction of a second and pull at the latch
>Crap, locked
>Another series of wracking sobs from inside
>"Go away. Leave me alone, please."
>How dare those monstrous ponies torment such a generous soul!
>rage.exe
>There is no way you'll let them get away with this!
>Stepping back, you roll up your sleeve and brace yourself
>You charge the door, letting out a fierce battle cry
>The latch breaks free with a resounding crack as the door swings open, and you go sprawling into the room
>Adrenaline pumping, you push yourself up and take in the room
>There’s nopony but the fashionista in here...
>He's lying on that fainting couch that you've seen him pull out of nowhere when you make a particularly bad guess at his name
>He's also wrapped in a blanket, has a spoon and tub of ice cream hovering next to him, and is looking at you with an expression of wide-eyed shock
>Those eyes are looking red and swollen, and his usually neat mane is an absolute mess
>The ice cream on the spoon takes the moment of silence as its moment to escape, landing with a resounding plop
>That breaks the spell
>"Anon, what in Equestria did you do that for?!"
>rage.exe disabled
"Uhhh, burglars?"
>"Burglars?"
"Yeah, I, uh, thought you weren't here because it was dark and that maybe someone broke in since the door was unlocked and the freezer was open, and uhhh-"
>You glance at the tub of ice cream as it slowly descends to the floor in a cloud of magic
"- and then I heard you crying and thought the burglars had captured you for some reason, so I rushed up here to help."
>As you tell your story, the shock and some of the melancholy melt away to be replaced by a bit of mirth.
>He raises a hoof to his muzzle to mask a little chuckle
>"Well, Mr. Anonymous, you certainly know how to crash a pity party."
>You sheepishly look at the crack in the door and the broken latch.
"Sorry, I can pay for that."
>"Pshh, don't worry about it. Tumbler Twist insisted that she owes me a favor after I helped with her brother's wedding."
>He wipes away some of the tears from his face
"Well, alright, I suppose."
>You drop down into a squat in front of the white stallion
"So, what's got you all in a funk like this, man?"
>He gives a patient smile and a little sniffle before sitting up and motioning for you to sit
>"Oh, nothing you need to worry about, Anonymous. I'm just being a silly stallion wallowing in..."
>He twirls a hoof in thought as you shift your position to sit next to him
>"Whatever it is ponies are meant to wallow in after being turned down yet again."
>That's a bit of a surprise
>You didn't take him as being in the dating scene
>Why do you feel disappointed at that?
"That's surprising. I've only known you for a few weeks, but I can't see any reason for a mare to turn you down. I mean, you're attractive, successful, generous to the point that the very concept-"
>You cut yourself off as you notice that he has an eyebrow raised and a little smirk
"What? What's that look for?"
>"Anon, it was a stallion. I like stallions."
>Some part of your brain sets off a fireworks display and begins dancing
>"And some stallions can be right jerks when you wrongly assume they're interested in you," he finishes with a sniffle and tugs the blanket tighter around his torso
>The mental celebration comes to a screeching halt
>Okay, no burglars, but some stallion hurt this pony for daring to be interested in him
>rage.exe re-enabled
"Hey, who did it, where can I find them, and what are Equestria's punishments for aggravated assault?"
>You don’t exactly relish the idea of violence against ponies, but you can't think of anything else with the anger burning
>Another little giggle
>Sweet Celestia, he's cute when he does that
>Your rage peters out in the face of it
>"Don't go getting yourself in trouble on my behalf now, Anon. I'll be fine. It just stung my pride. I'm sorry, I'm not really in a state where I can help with your outfit."
>Now the wheels are turning
>You're pulling up memories and piecing together a plan
>"Darling, you better not be plotting something ridiculous."
>Guess it was pretty obvious the cogs were turning
>You turn toward him and put a hand on each of his shoulders
>He gives a little jolt of surprise
>You can't help but admire how soft and sleek his coat is
"Okay, there's a train that arrives in a bit over three-quarters of an hour. Can you be ready by then?"
>A look of confusion crosses his face as he searches your eyes
>"W-whatever for?"
>You put on your best winning smile
"There's a restaurant in Manehattan I heard was good, and I believe you mentioned an event at Saddle Row this week. If some bastard is going to be a dick about you showing interest in him, and I can't kick his butt, then I can at least take you out for a good time."
>As you speak, the confusion on the stallion's face melts into understanding
>Then your conclusion causes a blush to spring up on his cheeks
>"Anonymous, are you asking me out? You don't even know my name."
>That catches you off guard
>Are you asking him out?
>Yeah, you guess you are
"Yeah, I guess I am. Besides, not knowing your name is your own fault, Mister."
>You draw your hands back and fold them on your lap as he chews your offer over
>A smile slowly spreads across his muzzle, and he gives a nod
>"I would be honored to go out with you, darling. I will be there," he says, primly
>He shrugs off the blanket and stretches as he steps off the couch
>You do your absolute best to keep your gaze respectful
>Okay, mostly respectful
>That sure is one beautiful Cutie Mark
>You are definitely just looking at the Cutie Mark
>If he notices your wandering eyes, he doesn't let on
>The fashion horse gives himself a shake and turns to look at you
>His eyes are still red and puffy, but any trace of sadness is gone
>"Oh, you do still have those clothes you showed up in, right? They're nicer than what Dusk cobbled together there."
>You have to agree
>The wardrobe the purple pony conjured fits your body in the strictest sense, but they are far from elegant
>Artist he is not
"I suppose I can ask him for them back. I can't imagine there's much more he can research on them."
>You stand up, dusting the absolutely nothing off your knees as you do
>"Tell him I insist you have them back," he says as he trots toward the adjoining bathroom
>He's walking with that sway again
>You feel your pulse quicken a little
"Tell him who insists?"
>You've won
>You must have his name now
>He throws his head back, looking at you with a devious grin
>"Just call me Fashion Horse, like you usually do"
>You lost
>You didn't even see it coming
>Now it's your turn to blush
>"Oh, don't you worry, Darling. I'll tell you on the train."
>Now a rush of anticipation
>He disappears around the corner with a swish of his tail
>"Oh, Anon, could you be an absolute dear and put that ice cream back in the freezer on your way out?"
>You nod, then remember he can't see that
"Yeah, sure thing."
>You scoop up the nearly empty carton and scan the floor for the lid
>You find it under the couch as you hear water start to run in the other room
>You pop the lid on as you leave the room with a growing ball of excitement and a touch of anxiety in your gut
>You can hardly believe you actually did that or that he agreed