He Means Everything To Me
Spike stared glumly out of the window of Golden Oaks Library. Punctual as ever, Ponyville's weekly rain was currently cascading in a torrential downpour, and all of its residents had taken cover in their homes. The less-than favourable weather only meant one thing: cleaning.
Not that Spike actually had much of a problem with that; cleaning was part of his job, and it was better to do it on a day when leaving the library was for the most part a less preferable choice. He wouldn't be able to visit Rarity, admittedly, but he did wonder about how long he could juggle working as an assistant at the library and working as an assistant at the boutique. The day before had left him absolutely shattered, and he'd overslept that morning, awakening to find that Twilight had already left.
Focusing his attention on the room around him, Spike started to work out where to begin. Unusually, however, the library was in a very good condition. Once again, Twilight was out with her friends, leaving him behind. No doubt they were on another epic adventure without him.
“No. Don't think like that,” the dragon chided himself.
Spike couldn't deny the truth in those words, however. He did, at times, get quite lonely, and an empty library did little to comfort him.
With a sigh he returned his attention back to the task at hand. All of the books were lined neatly on the correct shelves. For the first time in a good while, he didn't actually have any work to do in the library.
What about the kitchen?
Following his inner monologue, Spike walked into the kitchen. However, he already knew it was spotless; he liked to keep the place nice and clean. Come to think about it, he usually kept the living quarters in pristine condition. Well, except the bedroom, of course. But that was a given. What kind of crazy teenager would he be if he actuallytidied his room!?
Spike laughed at such a ridiculous notion.
“Tidy my room,” he chuckled, “Yeah, like that's gonna happen.”
No sooner had he said it, however, Spike realized that hereally had nothing else to do. Unless he wanted to read a book - there were lots of those here, after all.
Spike shuddered at the prospect, which extended into a groan as he realized his poor set of choices available. Resigning to his fate, Spike headed up to the bedroom.
To be fair, the room itself was in a much better condition than most dragons' bedrooms (theydid just throw a load of stuff on the floor and sleep on it, after all), and in fact the only incriminating flaw was that Spike hadn't made his bed that morning.
Well, that was for Spike's half, anyway. Glancing over at Twilight's half, Spike felt his eyes widen as he realized how late Twilight must have stayed up the night before; books were scattered across the floor haphazardly, the bed sheets were scrunched into a ball, and a various assortment of quills and parchment lay abandoned on the floor with semi-legible scrawls across each page.
It was a mess.
Of course, Spike was good at cleaning up messes. It wasn't anything weird; he just liked things being tidy. It was like a strange impulse, but he knew everypony felt like that sometimes.
He picked up all the ink pots, ensuring no ink had splattered across the floorboards. Twilight liked to write down everything. If Spike gave her the opportunity, she would no doubt jot down her thoughts about everything she possibly could, from the food she ate to the bed she slept on. Already, they went through so much ink, he was surprised that Equestria could produce enough to sate Twilight's constantly high demand.
Gathering the parchment, Spike ensured each page had dried before stacking them in a neat pile on Twilight's desk where they rightfully belonged. Parchment was another sparse resource in the Golden Oaks library. The dragon couldn't help but wince as he imagined just how many trees must have been chopped up and made its way into Twilight's hooves.
With the ink and parchment done, the room was already appearing much cleaner. Spike grinned; this was easy for him, and Twilight would hopefully reward his diligence with some ice cream or maybe a day off. Spike licked his lips as he considered the possibility. Maybe he could go and visit Rarity again?
Or Pinkie Pie? Maybe she'll have some new cupcakes for me?
Spike clearly recalled Pinkie mentioning she was going to be making another batch of her ruby-chip cupcakes.
Or maybe Rainbow Dash can teach me some more?
Spike subconsciously shuffled his small wings at the thought. Rainbow Dash wasn't the best at teaching, admittedly, but she could be surprisingly patient when she wanted to be.
Spike groaned; he was getting distracted again. Picking up each book, he carefully read each cover, carried it downstairs and placed it on the shelf it belonged on. For once, it didn't look as if Twilight had been studying powerful arcane magic. Instead, all the books appeared so surprisingly... normal!
Diamonds and Rubies, The Ballad of Firebrand and Olivine, Fiction: A how-to guide, Madmare's Venture.
Spike noted that most of them were fictional – a genre that Twilight rarely, if ever, read. She was much more a fan of her facts and knowledge, and fiction rarely covered those, often preferring to shirk them for the sake of convenience.
As Spike continued skimming book covers, he recalled reading a few. Some of them Twilight had read to him when he was just a baby dragon. The two would snuggle up on Twilight's bed, and she would read to him until he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore.
Spike smiled as the familiar memory returned to him. He missed snuggling up with Twilight. Putting the last of the books away, Spike stared longingly at Twilight's bed.
There were a lot of good memories there. One time, Spike had woken up from a nightmare and had run to Twilight's bed. He remembered how much comfier the bedsheets were. He was thankful when she had bought him a bigger bed, too.
With a nostalgic sigh, Spike moved to tidy the messy bed. Tugging at the corner's of the sheets, he rearranged the duvet and plumped the pillows. They were just as soft as he remembered.
As he tucked in the corners of the bed, however, his hindleg nudged another book from under the bed. Glancing down, Spike was realized that a book could even fit under the bed; there wasn't a lot of room for a book to fit, especially the daunting size of the books that were commonplace in Twilight's reading list.
Lifting the bed up slightly, Spike searched under the bed for any stray books. He only found one, however. Pulling it out, he inspected the cover. It was a thinly bound book with no title and no author. That wasn't very helpful at all when it came to organizing. Spike sighed and placed the book on the desk.
Grabbing a broom, he swept out all the dust from under Twilight's bed. Dust scattered into the air, and Spike coughed as he breathed a little in.
“Sheesh, when was the last time Twilight even cleaned under here?” he grumbled as the dust cloud cleared.
