He didn't understand. He had done everything, everything, he could for her. To show her. To prove to her. To try and make her see. Every time, it failed. She would brush it off as if he were just being friendly. As if he were a child.
He wasn't a child. Not anymore. Not for a long while. He was twenty now. Sure, she was older than he was by around five years, but he didn't care. Age did not matter to him. Not now. It never really had, but he knew she would have used it before. She couldn't anymore. No one would think anything of it.
He sat on his bed, in his small room, and ran a hand through his shaggy green hair. With a sigh, he laid back. What hadn't he done that would make her see how much he wanted to be with her? His eyes wondered around the room, until they landed on the drawer that held his secret book.
He stood and made his way over to the desk, pulling open the book. He leafed through the pages, full of pictures of her, either with her friends, or with him, or by herself. Each picture was accompanied by a song or a poem he had written. Growing up in a library with his adoptive sister had helped him learn the finer points of the art.
His green eyes read random lines as he flipped through the pages. This he had worked on for years. This was his entire heart, laid bare for anyone who happened across it. No one, not even Twilight, had read a word of what was written.
Maybe this was what she needed to see. Maybe this book, this book that held every part of him that belonged to her, would be what it would take. He clutched the book tightly as he closed his eyes. There was no way he could give it to her. No. He would need to find another way. There had to be something he hadn't tried yet.
Twilight had told him to just tell her how he felt. And he had. Or, he had tried. She had shushed him, politely, and said she knew. She knew. She knew, but she thought it was a passing fancy. She thought he would find someone else. Maybe someone younger, or someone… He shook his head. There was no someone else.
The book was the solution. It had to be. She would see it, see his feelings spilled out across the pages, and she would see. She had to. If she didn't, it would mean a total shattering of his heart.
Determined, he picked the book up and made his way out his room, down the library steps, and out the door. He wasn't sure if the bright sunny day was a good omen, or a mocking one. The entire town seemed so…normal. As if he weren't balancing on a precipice, ready to fall off at the wrong word from her.
Before he knew it, he was on her doorstep. His heart was beating violently inside his chest. He raised his hand and knocked on the door. She called out, her voice bringing a smile to his lips. Then the door was opening and she ushered him inside, as always.
"You are very quiet, darling. Is something wrong?"
Suddenly, his throat was dry. He couldn't have summoned words had he wanted to. Instead, he held the book out. She furrowed her brow in confusion and took the book. She flipped through the pages, to quickly to read, but slow enough to understand what the book was about. "Oh, my." She looked up from the book, directly into his eyes. "Oh, Spike. I…I don't know what to say."
Licking his lips, he nodded. He had expected that. If he had been honest with himself, he knew she would never—
A warm touch on his cheek shook him from his thoughts. "This is…I don't have words to describe it. I…I love it."
"It?" he whispered. "Just 'it'?"
"I…that is…"She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I don't know what you want me to say."
The words came easily now. What he had wanted to say to her every time they were near, what had burned his very soul to bring the book to her, came so easily. "Tell me you love me. That is me, all of me, everything I've ever felt for you. That is all of me, Rarity. It was so hard to give that to you. To show you. No one else even knows it exists. And you just…I'm not a schoolboy with a crush." Spike wasn't sure where the sudden anger had come from, but now he looked down, ashamed. "I'm sorry. I just wanted you to know. I…I'll leave now." He turned, but before he could take a step, a hand on his shoulder stopped him.
Rarity walked around to face him. She placed her hand on his cheek, a smile on her face. "I know you aren't a schoolboy with a crush," she whispered. Then her lips were on his. One hand was in his hair, the other grabbing his hand. Their lips moved together clumsily, at first. Then they found a rhythm, and he felt himself reveling in the feeling. The light breaths coming out of her nose, her hand slightly pulling his hair, her soft, warm lips pressed to his.
Spike was unsure of whether a second or a century had passed when Rarity pulled away. "All the things you brought me, I still have. What I wanted was this. What it could hurt you to give me. I wanted you."
She placed a hand on his rapidly beating heart and smiled.
He smiled back, very aware of the distance between them now. "So, you really want to be my special someone?" he asked.
Running a hand down his cheek, she smiled. "Of course I do."
They stood there, in the middle of her shop, just looking at each other. "Now, I do believe we have some news for our friends, don't we?" With a grin, Spike nodded.
Lacing their fingers together, they walked out the door, into the decidedly more cheerful sunshine.
Author's Note
Any thoughts? Do you like Sparity? Hate it? I like it when it's humanized, like this, and with a slightly smaller age gap than I suspect they actually have. Though there are some good ponified sparity stories out there. Like Of Age. Anyway, as always, let me know what you think.
♥MW
