Thick, hot night air flowed in through the windows of Lyra’s cottage like honey. The minty-coated unicorn shifted uncomfortably as the draft envoloped her already-sweating body. Using her magic, she levitated a glass of water up to her lips and took a long sip. She shuddered- it was lukewarm and bitter. Hadn’t she just put ice in that? Shaking her head, she lowered the glass and returned her attention to the book she was reading: A Tale of Two Fillies by Cocoa Nick’ns.
It was the very peak of summer, and Equestria was suffering a particularly miserable week in terms of weather. (Some ponies speculated it must be the Princess’s “time of the month”.) The pegasi of Cloudsdale had tried to block out the intense heat of the sun with coulds, but every attempt simply ended with them burning away under the blaring rays. The Mayor ensured Ponyville that the heat wouldn’t last long, and that an early Autumn was scheduled. Still, even the promise of Fall wasn’t enough for most ponies. They remained cooped up in their houses, out of the direct heat of Celestia’s sun. Doors and windows remained propped open even at night to allow the circulation of what little coolness was to be found, and Mr. Breezy had found business to be booming.
The same couldn’t be said for other local retailers, though. The trees at Sweet Apple Acres, so close to starting to bear fruit, were beginning to wilt. Tanks full of water had to be hauled in from nearby lakes, much to the disadvantage of those assigned to do the hauling. Sugarcube Corner was forced to close down due to the mess melting chocolate and frosting ensued. Plus, who would want to work with hot ovens now?
An apparently thirsty fly persitantly landed on Lyra’s damp pelt, itching her with it’s filthy little mouth as it lapped up perspiration. No matter how much she swatted and twitched and cursed at it, it simply wouldn’t let her be. Currently it was buzzing around her face, distracting her from her book. Boiling with annoyance, Lyra finally smacked it down with a violent swat. It twitched as it landed on the edge of her chair, then with still. The unicorn’s nostrils flared as she huffed. As much as she had understood it’s thirst, she simply wasn’t going to tolerate being mouthed by an insect for much longer.
That’s Bon-bon’s job. She thought secretly. The simple idea made her blush, and she tenatively turned to glance at her cream-colored friend, as if worried the earth pony had read her thoughts. Said cream-colored mare was passed out on the couch after devouring a tub and a half of ice cream. And a carrot dog. And a bag of popcorn. And a- oh, Lyra couldn’t remember what else Bon-bon had eaten.
Her eyes had grown tired of reading, and after sliding a bookmark into her current page, she set it down on her chair and hopped off, trotting over to Bon-bon. She was sprawled out rather ungracefully, mouth hanging wide open and a thin trickle of droll running out. Lyra giggled and wiped it away with a hoof. Oh, Bon-bon was SO cute sometimes! The green unicorn hopped up onto the couch and settled into the one, tiny space Bon-bon wasn’t occupying. Her small, thin frame just barely fit, and in order to make it more comfortable she was forced to snuggle up against the sleeping mare.
When she initially sunk into the soft, pillowy form known as Bon-bon’s flank, she felt as if a jolt of electricity had coursed through her body. She pressed her nostrils against the cream fur, smelling the familiar, seductive aroma of chocolate Bon-bon always seemed to carry around. Settling in, Lyra found herself as secure as a foal cuddling with it’s mother.
This was the first time in months they had slept even in the same house, and definately the first Lyra had managed to get this close. Bon-bon wasn’t really the touchy-feely type, which was a shame because of how huggable and soft she was.
“All those sweets and treats really go to your hips, eh Bon-bon?” Lyra whispered playfully, though she knew her words met deaf ears. Bon-bon let out a brief snort in “response”, though, which forced Lyra to giggle. She knew she would never be able to tease an awake Bon-bon about that. She was so sensitive about her weight.
“I think it’s part of what makes you different,” Lyra had once told her. But the colorfully-maned mare had simply turned away bitterly.
“Yes, of course it makes me different! Can’t you see how morbidly fat I am?”
“Oh, Bonny, it’s not that bad, and you know it. At most, you’re curvy. I think it’s quite sexy.” That last part slipped out accidentally, and she instantly regretted it. Bon-bon turned to face her again, meeting her with wide, surprised eyes.
“Pardon?” Lyra bit her lip, hoping to Dear Celestia she wasn’t blushing.
“Well, what I mean is... um... I’m sure any sane stallion would love it!” But Bon-bon simply shook her head.
“No, they like mares like you, Lyra. Celestia only knows why you don’t already have a coltfriend.”
Because I love you, can’t you see? Lyra wanted to scream the words, but instead stood there ackwardly. “N-No,” she stammered, trying to regain verbal footing, “I’m just a bony little thing. You’re the pretty one, Bon-bon.”
Bon-bon smiled slightly, and Lyra’s heart leapt. “How kind of you. It doesn’t change anything, though. C’mon, let’s get going. I heard the Weather Patrol has some rain planned this afternoon, and I don’t wanna get caught in it.”
And so they had galloped off. Bon-bon never brought up the subject of her weight again, but Lyra could tell that she flinched whenever she walked in front of a mirror, and was hesitant when they had gone to get dresses fitted at Carousel Boutique. Oh, why can’t you see what makes a mare is so much more than her body? You’re kind, and funny, and caring... beautiful in every way.
As she savored the sensation of Bon-bon’s body against hers, her mind drifted back to earlier this morning, when the mare had shown up on her doorstep in tears. Lyra still had yet to know why, but she was sure Bon-bon would tell her when she was ready. The unicorn had lead the earth pony to the couch, where the two sat down and Bon-bon cried her woes away on her shoulder. They sat there for a long time after that in utter silence, until Lyra suggested they watch a movie. Bon-bon obliged, and before long they had torn through half of Lyra’s film collection, losing complete and utter track of time. Half-way through Manespray Bon-bon had gotten up to get a snack, which originally just consisted of a handful of her namesake, but slowly escalated to a large portion of Lyra’s pantry. Lyra didn’t mind, though; she could get more food later. She just enjoyed her best friend’s company. After the credits began to roll, Bon-bon collapsed and Lyra tucked into a random book from her shelf.
After having gone through the whole ordeal in her head, she realized something: she hadn’t eaten in hours! She wasn’t really that hungry, but she was thin enough and, if anything, would gladly take a share of Bon-bon’s rump (in more ways than one.) Careful not to disturb her sleeping companion, she carefully got up and tiptoed out of the living room and into the kitchen.
She clicked on a lamp and was greeted by Bon-bon’s mess. A bowl here, a bag of flour there, some spilled blueberries... Oh, right, Bon-bon had also baked muffins! Lyra scanned the room and quickly spotted them, grinning widely as she trotted over. Now, she was a rather light eater, and really only nibbled on things. But Bon-bon was a fantastic cook, and she could eat her food all day! She plucked up the smallest muffin (okay, maybe “eating her food all day” was an overstatement) and took a bite, savoring it’s... blue-berry-ness. After a few bites, though, she felt a bit queasy and set it back down, eyeing it guiltily. That had been her problem since fillyhood. No, she wasn’t like those stupid mares who didn’t eat on purpose- Lyra simply couldn’t handle much food. Her mother had taken her to a doctor when she was young, and she was diagnosed with some type of digestive disease. Still, she felt terrible. She saw the dark looks Bon-bon’s face took on whenever she eyed Lyra’s body. Yes, Bon-bon was well aware of Lyra’s condition, but that obviously didn’t do much to dissolve the tension the earth pony seemed to harbor.
Grimacing, Lyra forced herself to finish the muffin. Even if it made her sick, she would do it because she cared about Bon-bon’s feelings. And her own health, too. As she swallowed the last bite, she groaned and staggered over to the kitched table, leaning into some sort of flat leather object upon it for support. She waited a moment for the nausea to subside, then stood up. There was a sudden flop, though, and the leather object slid off the table and onto the floor, spilling it’s contents. It had been Bon-bon’s saddlebag, and within it, her daily mail. Lyra cursed silently and bent down to pick up the mess. As she sorted the papers and enveloped neatly, though, she came across one ravaged, open envelope with a crimson seal on it. The coroner’s seal. Lyra recognised it from when she got the letter about her father’s death a few years back. Was this what had upset Bon-bon? She didn’t want to pry into business which was not her own, but concern for her love got the best of her.
She removed the letter within the envelope and unfolded it. The first thing she noticed was a small photograph papercliped to it. It was of a mare and a stallion, with a sweet little filly no older than those darn Cutie Mark Crusaders. She recognised the mare, for she looked a lot like Bon-bon. Sher coat was the same color, save for being a bit lighter, and she had wavy hair of light pink and baby blue. And her eyes- her eyes were excactly the same as Bon-bon’s. Upon her flank was an image of cotton candy. Candy Floss, Bon-bon’s sister! Oh Celestia, no! Her husband was a handsome pegasus of a very familiar sky blue, with an electric yellow mane and alert fuscia eyes. His cutie mark was a sharp white lightning bolt, accented with lime green. Flash Blitz. He’s Rainbow Dash, the weather pony’s brother, isn’t he? Finally, bewteen the happy couple looked a bright and cheerful little blank-flanked filly of the lightest pink, with a pastel rainbow mane and clear blue eyes. They all looked so happy in this picture; so happy, in fact, Lyra was hesitant to lift up the photo and read what horrors may lie in the coroner’s letter. But she had to know. Her stomach felt like an icy pit as she began to read the empty, typewritten print.
Dear Miss Bon-bon,
We regret to inform you your sister, Mrs. Floss, along with husband Mr. Blitz, passed away in a fire yesterday morning. Royal guard investigation has lead us to beleive the fire was caused by the recent weather patterns. You are permitted to visit our offices within the next week to claim your share of Mrs. Floss’s will. This includes, as followed:
-1,000 bits
-Any furniture or jewelry you wish
-Your neice, Toola Roola.
Our condolances,
Marbel Toom, Head of Coroner’s Dept.
Lyra gaped at the letter. First, it was from the news of Bon-bon’s sister’s death. Then, in response to the sheer... distance of the letter. How could they be so insensitive and short about a death? And third, oh Dear Celestia third, Bon-bon had just been given custody of her niece. She looked back at the picture of the then-happy family, little Toola Roola beaming up at the camera. She couldn’t bear to think of what that little filly was feeling now. She felt her face grow hot and even sweatier. She struggled to hold back tears as she neatly folded the letter, returned it to its envelope, and placed all the mail into Bon-bon’s bag on the table. As she was adjusting it to look as it had before, a soft “ahem” sounded from behind her. Lyra froze. Bon-bon was right behind her, wasn’t she?
“Going through my mail, I suppose?” There was an edge to Bon-bon’s tone that unsettled Lyra. She turned slowly towards the object of her affections, trying to look as innocent as possible. It clearly didn’t work. Bon-bon tapped her hoof steadily, her harse stare not once wavering. “I...” Lyra uttered, so softly Bon-bon scarcely heard, “I’m so sorry.”
Bon-bon’s eyes narrowed, and her mouth quivered. Lyra braced herself for a verbal beating, but instead found herself in a shuddering embrace by Bon-bon, who had begun to sob. She was surprised, but instinctively wrapped her hooves around her friend in response, murmuring softly to the crying pony.
She didn’t know how long they stayed like that. Maybe it was only seconds, or maybe it was hours. When Bon-bon’s sobs ceased, she lifted her head to look up at Lyra.
“You’re always so nice, so kind, so... caring. I don’t know what I’d do without you...” Tears began to stream down her face more rapidly now, and she buried her nose in Lyra’s fur. Lyra stroked her back gently, her eyes following the curl of her hair and the unique shimmer on her pelt.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, either.” she responded.
Lyra didn’t know what consequenses may come of her next actions, but she was willing to face them. With a tender hoof she lifted Bon-bon’s chin, looking straight into those beautiful blue eyes.
“I’ll be here for you, Bonny. I’ll always be here, no matter what. I don’t care what happens or what you think or say or what others think or say or how you look or how I look or-” she took a deep breath, “anything like that. Because you know what, Bon-bon? I love you.”
And she kissed her.
The End
