My Little Human: Disjointed Memories

Chapters

The White Room
The Blue Door
The Violet Door (In Progress)
The Pink Door
The Yellow Door
The White Door (In Progress)
The Black Room (In Progress)
One Last Birthday Present
The Orange Door (In Progress)
A Drink in The Dark with an Old Friend

The White Room

I couldn't remember... anything. I knew who I was, yes, but why was I here? Here in this hexagonal room, here with these doors.

I recognised them, not the doors, but the emblems, boldly emblazoned at head height, telling all who looked upon them who, or what, would reside inside.

The room was white. Not blinding, not painful, just... white. I could barely see the corners, where the floor met wall, and wall met ceiling. There was no light source, just the ambient light of the room. It was peaceful but... sterile. That's the word. It had no personality, it only projected the personality, radiating from the doors like heat, or sound. I knew the people I would find on the other side of those doors. My friends.

I smiled at the thought, friends. I've always had a few, but these ones were special. The violet door, the lighter lavender and white star, surrounded by five other tiny white stars. My sister, Twilight Sparkle. We'd been together since day one. Older sister, mentor, keeper, boss, she'd filled more roles in my life than all others. I chuckle softly, she thinks she takes care of me, but I knew that it was quite the opposite, she never wanted this life. She'd rather be up in her little tower, studying everything and anything, but I knew she wouldn't go back, wouldn't give this up, not for all the books in the world.

I turn slightly to the right, and I could almost feel the bass thumping. A pink door, the balloons practically bounced. I could almost hear her voice, 'C'mon Spike, I wanna *dance*.' I would twirl and she would spin, faster and faster until we were both dizzy and needed to sit down. I just hope she didn't spike the punch again, it didn't have the intended effect the first time she tried it, though watching Rarity try to use a pillar as a stripper's pole was quite humorous. I shook my head, and turned to the next door.

Orange, with three bright red apples that looked almost good enough to eat. Applejack, the epitome of the southern Bell. In body, if not in mind or spirit. I could almost smell the fresh apple pie, still warm from the over, and a drawling southern accent, calling if I wanted a slice, 'Seein' as you've been such a help.' I'd smile, and say yes, and be treated to some of the best baking I'd ever tasted. You could tell who made the pie from the tiny accents that they added. Granny smith added a few splashed of rum, for extra zest. Big Mac would be a bit bland, but always made with the utmost care. Applejack always added extra cinnamon, just enough that you could taste it. But I would help out just for a smile, and maybe the occasional hug, but something extra on the side was never turned away. I smirked at that, thinking to myself, 'Take *that** as you will.'* I turn to the next door.

A yellow door, the butterflies so lifelike I almost expected them to fly away. Fleuretta - called Shy now - so kind, and soft spoken. I never let that fool me, she was a tiger, soft and beautiful to look at, but deadly when threatened. I remembered our time as teacher and student. She was quiet, and patient, but she still expected me to learn. Her test's were the worst. I spent more time in the hospital wing that year than with Twilight in the library, but I can now tell the difference between dried and crushed nightshade, and what you needed to neutralise it. I wouldn't say it was fun times, but she spent every minute with me in the hospital, more often than not apologising quietly while I puked out my guts.

The memory fades, and I turn to the next door: white, almost invisible in this room of white. Three blue crystals shined as if they possessed an inner light. Rarity, a high class lady born in a middle class town. She was nice, I hadn't expected that, and ballsy, I definitely hadn't expected that. I could have fallen for a woman like her, a few years ago, before... but that's another story. Kind, caring, generous, yes, I could have fallen for a woman like that. But this is now, and here, and there is no time for things like love. I sigh, no need to depress myself with what could have been, better to know my friends for what they are, and not what they could have been. Down that path is heartbreak.

The last door, blue, with a rainbow coloured lightning bolt extending from a cloud, Rainbow Dash, fastest flyer in Equestria. Cool as ice and proud as a lion, or a dragon. Dumbest smart person I knew, and the biggest braggart. She was a study in extremes, both physical and mental, but still the funnest person I knew, and I am counting Pinkie. Pinkie could make you laugh, but Dash made you feel better just by being around, like her cool and confidence could rub off by her presence alone. That and she knew all the best napping spots. I just wish she wouldn't wear the mask around us, we didn't need it, but maybe she did.

The room grows dark, and a presence seems to enter the room with me. I wondered what was going to happen now?

"Who is best pony?"

The Blue Door

I shook my head, it wasn't something I wanted to think about. Then I pushed through the blue door.

I stood on one of the hills just outside town, the wind pulling at my cloak, and squinted up at Dash. I couldn't really see her, so high up, but it wouldn't be a problem, she did most of her stunts pretty close to the ground. There she was, coming in quite fast, and at a pretty steep angle. Anyone else and I'd be afraid they'd crash but Dash was one of the best flyers in Equestria, or at least, one of the best flyers I've seen.

She dived close to the ground, pulling up just above head height. Then she did the craziest thing I've ever seen. She spun out, horizontally, while moving in a straight line; right over my head. It was impressive, to say the least. That is, until she hit the sapling and was thrown from the bike. I rushed over, 'Oh great, another hospital run?'

Fortunately she wasn't badly hurt, a few scrapes and bruises but nothing broken. Dash sat up and groaned, "Damn, though I had that one too." She takes my proffered hand, "Stupid sapling, why do trees always have to be so stubborn about where they live? Would getting up and moving every now and again really hurt?"

"I... don't think it works like that." I pointed out as we approached her bike.

"And why not? I'm tellin' you, these trees are just being stubborn, they don't know about the outside world, they need to get out and explore." Her smile turned to a frown, "And they need to stop breaking my fore energy coupling ports! By Celestia's beard!" The though still made me laugh, 'Mom's beard indeed.'

'C'mon Spike, help me carry this, my place isn't that far away." I sighed, but hey, I got to spend some more quality time with Dash, that was always a plus.

"Sure," I walked over to the machine, 'On three?"

"How about on one? One." And we picked the thing up, my end wobbling comically on my shoulder, this thing was heavy for a speed model, or even a regular model. "You usin' bricks to power this thing?" I grunted out.

"Oh stop being such a baby, it's not that far anyway, just keep your end level." And we started walking, and she started talking. I don't think she likes silence, with how she always jumpes to fill it with anything and everything. I listened with half an ear.

There were gently rolling hills to the right which eventually became mountains. To the left, a park filled with people going for walks to picnicking. I squinted, I thought I saw Pinkie. Then there was an explosion before I heard her scream, "Apples!" Then I was certain it was Pinkie.

The walk to Dash's house wasn't as long as I though, though finally getting her to stop monologuing about stunts and actually have a conversation was probably most of it. "Set it down here." She ordered, before lowering her own end. Then she flew up to her floating cloud house and threw something down at me. "Catch!" She screamed.

I tried, I really did, but she threw down quite a bit of thick chain and her house isn't so low that it was a quick toss either. No, I had no less than fifty pounds of chain rattling down at me at terminal velocity, so I did the intelligent thing; I stood there with my hands out.

After she stopped laughing, Dash had the decency to check if my arms were broken. They weren't, thankfully, though that didn't stop me from moaning and whining like a little girl about the thick bruises that were forming. Don't judge, those chains would have flattened a regular human. Dash didn't appreciate my whining either and offered some of her cookie stash as recompense. I was gunning for strawberry ice cream, but cookies would do nicely.

After hoisting up the flightcycle and depositing it in the garage we retired to the kitchen for cookies and tea. Dash was more of a coffee person but with most of her friends preferring tea she kept some in stock. She never did say how or why she stocked imported eastern tea leaves that had to be prepared fresh rather than simple tea bags, but you couldn't argue with the quality.

We were just getting onto an argument over who could win in a fight, Daring Doo or Batmare, when the sound of an explosion rocked the entire cloud house, spilling tea and knocking kitchen appliances to the floor. Dash and I stared at each other for a few seconds before we were out the door and moving full pelt out of the house. It was only my fast reaction time that saved me. It also, however left me hanging from the edge of a cloud with a rainbow streak the only thing left of the only person who could get me down with any sort of speed. Which is why, twenty minutes later, she found me running across the meadow just below her house, the rope ladder slowly retracting automatically behind me.

She grinned when she saw me huffing and puffing from my long climb down, "And where do you think you're going?" I could hear the laughter in her voice.

Instead of answering I flopped down on the soft grass. Then she did start laughing. "I hate you so much right now," I said, mock seriousness playing across my face, "So much that if I bottled it I could sell it to people as some sort of miracle drug. Just one whiff and you too can hate 'Rainbow Dash,' now receiving the title of worst host ever."

Dash bowed mockingly, "Thank you, thank you, I'd like to thank my friends and family who helped me to win this prestigious award." She wipes a fake tear, "Granpapi would be so proud." Now it was my turn to chuckle.

Dash lay down next to me and we stared at the sky. "We aren't going to get anything done today, are we?"

"Nope."

"... Wanna go fishing?"

I smiled lazily, "All alone in the middle of a lake with a beautiful woman? Who am I to refuse?" I looked over at her and she wiggled her eyebrows at me. We aren't going to get anything done today.

I closed my eyes and instead of black I was greeted by white. A strange white room surrounded me, different coloured doors on each of the six walls. A click sounded as the grey door behind me closed. I felt lethargic and sleepy, but that all went away when I heard the voice.

Who will you leave, screaming in the rain?

I closed my eyes, I didn't want to think anymore, I didn't want to hurt anymore. (End Game)

The Violet Door (In Progress)

I shook my head, it did not bear thinking about. Then I pushed through the violet door.

"And done." Twilight looked at the large magical apparatus, the huge thing nearly filling the entire basement. "Magnificent, if I do say so myself, what do you think Spike?"

"Meh," I was dubious of it's aesthetic magnificence, "I'll be more impressed if it works like it's supposed to."

"I'm certain it will, Celestia designed it herself." She said with complete confidence. I just snorted, she didn't get to see all the failures that Celestia had. She may be powerful and wise, but she wasn't a genius and as such there was always a fair amount of testing that went into a device. Normally that would reassure me but the note had explicitly said that this was a prototype and she wanted Twilight to test it for her.

I was pretty sure that this would end in disaster. Which is why I was wearing some armour. Plate armour. Full plate armour, over top my usual dragon hide armour. Behind a two foot thick metal plate that was sunk a foot and a half into the concrete of the basement floor. And I had Twilight erect a magical blast shield over top that.

I pit the thick steel helmet over my head, "We are a go Mission Command." I joked, "One small step for unicorns, one giant explosion for all equinekind!"

"Don't quote sci-fi at me." She griped, "I read those books before you knew how to breath fire."

"Just hit the switch."

She looked at the imposing machine. Then she glanced over at my hiding place and smiled sheepishly. "I'm kinda nervous. But," She took a deep breath, "Let's do this." She began pulling switches and adjusting knobs until she had the machine calibrated. "Well..." She paused again. "Ok, you're really starting to freak me out."

"I'm not doing anything." I said calmly.

"You're acting like this thing is going to explode and it's making me nervous."

Which is why she was now sitting beside me, fully suited for battle, poking at the activation switch with a very long stick. "Almost got it."

Click.... Boom!

I felt the explosion in my bones. Concrete and steel bounced off my armour. The rumbling aftermath found Twilight and myself clinging to each other for dear life, cowering behind the semi-circle of steel left poking out of the floor of the basement. "W-what happened?" Twilight asked.

"Elementary my dear Twilight," I shakily started. I made a little explosion motion with my hands in front of her face. "Everything went boom."

Who will stand by you, unto her death?

I closed my eyes, I didn't want to think anymore, I didn't want to hurt anymore. (End Game)

The Pink Door

The thought made me shudder, why should I choose? Then I opened the pink door.

The bass thumped and multihued lights flashed like the rapid fluttering of a humming bird's wings. I saw her from across the room, the lights slicing her flailing, gyrating movements into hundreds of still frames. The face of the angry woman approaching her from the other side was the only thing I needed to see to know the man she was grinding on was taken.

The club was packed and under normal circumstances I wouldn't be able to make it to her. A quick spell and a sneer that showed more fang than was absolutely necessary took care of that. I reached her just in time to pull her out of the way of a slap that would have sent her spinning to the floor.

"I'm sorry about my friend," I shouted over the blaring music, "She's not herself right now." The woman just scowled at me and the guy had gone practically white with terror. I felt sorry for the guy, but not so much that I'd risk leaving Pinkie alone for the time it would take to diffuse what would no doubt be a heated situation. "C'mon you pink freak, this isn't you scene anyway." She lolled a bit in my hand, her escape attempts having been unsuccessful. She was plastered, and by her dilated eyes she'd had more than one pill put in her drink, willingly or otherwise.

The cool, fresh air of the outside was bliss to my sensitive nose after all the sweat and alcohol and drugs. I felt a bit loopy just having been in there. This nose was good for most things, but if the alcohol is strong enough I can get tipsy off the fumes. As much fun as that sounds, the hangover is about ten times worse. But that wasn't why I was here. "I'd like to ask you what you were thinking, but I get the feeling you're not in the mood to talk right now?" I asked the near limp bundle hanging from my hand. She moaned in reply, something about 'fun' and 'hate me.'

"Why am I the one that always has to deal with this?" I asked the night sky, as if Luna herself would dane to tell me, "I'm not good with emotions, tartarus, I spend most of the time trying to keep a lid on mine let alone everyone else's." I sighed and reached down to pick Pinkie up, carrying her bridal style.

"Aw, Spikey, never knew you liked me so much." She planted a slobbery kiss on my collar bone, most likely because she couldn't reach higher, "Aaaaaalllllllll my friends abandoned me, but not you~, nope, not my Spikey Wikey." She went for another kiss, but I think she missed.

"Oh, so now you can talk?" I asked, a bit more forcefully than I meant to, "How about telling me what you were doing, alone, in a packed night club on this side of town?"

"Pffft," She spit, "Like you don't know. You're the one that told me everyone hated me and they were avoiding me." She sniffled, "What did I do? Tell me what I did Spikey." Her tear filled silence ate at my heart. It had been a stupid move. Luna was fond of the saying that no plan survived contact with the enemy.

The plan was simple. The girls had been making a surprise party for Pinkie, but she had wanted an after party for Gummy. The girls, of course, had to decline. That left the perfect situation for a friendship report and I though I'd help it along a little. Friend is depressed because other friends are unobservant and ignore the signs that friend A is depressed. Friend A get's angry and sad that other friends abandoned her but is surprised that other friends weren't abandoning her but instead wanted to do something nice for her. Friendship report about either being more observant of others feelings or not jumping to conclusions, take your pick.

That's how it was supposed to go. What we didn't expect was that, realising that her own party wouldn't be fun with just one person, she would find a different party where she could drown her sorrows. In a part of town that has a conspicuous amount of red lights. In a club called XtahC, which looked like a converted warehouse. Where no one could find her, or at least, no one who couldn't track the sent of bubblegum cotton candy and baking ingredients.

Thus we come to the present. One inebriated Pink woman. One irritated dragonkin. One long walk home. And three men with knives. This was going to end badly.

"Hey there little boy," The sleezeball on the left started, "Why don't you put down the little lady and scram, there ain't no need to get you bloody just for a little fun."

Now if Pinkie had been in her right mind I wouldn't have any problems with doing just that, she could handle herself. That and there'd be fewer casualties if she took care of these guys. Of course, I couldn't fight them with her in my arms. So, plan B: run away! I gripped Pinkie closer, "Hold on tight." I whispered, and detonated a fireball underneath my feet.

It wasn't flying, it was more like being flung by a catapult. Far to fast and out of control, even for the pink party girl in my arms, who just puked down my back, even before I hit the ground hard and rolled. Coming to my feet I tried to calm Pinkie down, only to find she had passed out. Great. The others were going to kill me.

"Pinkie?" I asked, "Pinks? Wake up OK, if you die of alcohol poisoning or OD on crack or something on my watch I'll never live it down, let alone forgive myself." I set her down in the street, tilting her head to the side and check her pulse. It was there but it was more rapid than It should have been. She probably wasn't in danger of dying, but I'd better be sure.

I kept a purge tonic somewhere on me on the off chance Celestia had me poisoned again. Last time I almost hadn't made it. I had vowed from then on that I'd keep something on me for just such an occasion. The stuff was foul to the nose and tongue but it did its job. Pinkie sputtered and choked for a second before swallowing. The next part wasn't nearly as fun.

It took the better part of an hour of vomiting, sweating, and soiling herself to get rid of all the toxins in her body. The rest of the hour was spent cleaning her up. Which is why she was wrapped in my cloak and sans undergarments when I finally opened the door to the library around midnight. Twilight was there, but the others must have still been out looking for Pinkie.

"You found her?" Twilight rushed over to us, "Where was she?"

"At some club downtown, I forgot the name." I looked at Twilight properly. She was frazzled, her clothes disheveled and her hair was messed like she had been running her hands through it in frustration. "Listen, why don't you get the rest of the girls and I'll get Pinkie comfortable. I'm certain that you'll all have a long talk once everyone's gotten a good night's sleep."

She began nodding her head half way through my sentence and didn't seem able to stop. I couldn't make her do anything with my hands full, so I walked past her and on to the stairs. "Twilight," I called back, "Go and get the girls." I climbed the stairs slowly, but I was still able to reach the door to my room before she left.

The walk across my room seemed to take forever. 'Idiot.' I thought, though I couldn't tell if I meant her or me. I shook slightly, my bundle growing even heavier in my arms. I wasn't sure what I would have done if she hadn't been OK. I unwrapped her from my cloak slowly and placed her in my bed, covering her with a thin comforter and making sure she was comfortable.

"Why?" I sat down on the bed next to her, "Was it worth it?" Was I talking to her? Or myself? "what would we have done if you had gotten hurt? What if you had died?"

"I wouldn't have." She said weakly

I chuckled lightly, "Can you be so sure?"

"Of course, I knew my Spikey Wikey would save me..." She trailed off. I though she had fallen back asleep. "I don't want to be alone." She whispered, "I don't want..." She gripped my arm.

Looking back, I saw the tears in her eyes. "I don't want..." She sniffed, "I... I... I don't..." Her tears began to flow, like two tiny rivers running down her face. She pulls me down, pressing her face into my back. "I don't want them to leave me." She clutches at me, "I don't want you to leave me." And that's what this has all be about. I turn around on the bed and pull her flush against my body.

"It's OK Pinkie, I'm here. I'll always be here." She cries harder into my chest, pressing her hands into me. "Shhh, I'm here." I comfort her, "The girls are coming, it's going to be OK, I promise." I hold her closer. "It's all be OK."

"I wish we could stay like this." She whispers, "Stay, please?"

"I will-"

The blinding whiteness of the room makes me blink.

I look around. There are six doors. Most I recognise, though one is grey. When I try the handle of that one I can't open it. Strange. A voice speaks, seeming to come from every direction.

Who will love you, yet suffer in silence?

I closed my eyes, I didn't want to think anymore, I didn't want to hurt anymore. (End Game)

The Yellow Door

It wasn't something I thought about, not often, not ever. Then I opened the yellow door.

The midday sun warmed my face and glowed through my closed eyes. A light breeze ruffles my spines. I hadn't always liked sleeping outside, but ever since Dash showed be all the best napping spots I'd found myself doing so much more often. Unfortunately, this day I wasn't going to get a nap in, what with the shadow looming over me and all.

Opening one eye I blink up at the person blocking my sun. They weren't too tall, long hair, holding a basket; at least that's what I got from the silhouette. I raised my eyebrow in what I hoped looked more questioning than incredulous. "Can I help you?"

"Um, hi Spike," Fleuretta said hesitantly, "It's nice to see you..."

"But?" I asked.

"But," She dragged the word out, "I was kinda hoping to have a picnic here today." She whispered.

"Mmm," I groaned, more in assent than in annoyance, "Just let me..." I began undulating my body, shuffling along the ground until I had moved a few feet to my left, "That good?"

"Yes, thank you." She seemed more cheerful now, her voice climbing a few decibels. That was good. It took nearly a year before she warmed up to me the first time and I was concerned that it would take that long again. Fortunately, she seemed to be having no trouble getting back into our old rhythm.

I dozed there, half listening to Fleuretta speak to 'Angel bunny' and letting the light breeze cool my skin. I think I fell asleep, for a few minutes or a few hours, I couldn't tell. It wasn't until a shadow covered my face again that I stirred from my rest. Yawning I looked back up at my old teacher, "Hmm?"

"Well, I wouldn't want to disturb your nap or anything but I was wondering if maybe you wanted some... tea?" She held up a cup, "It's quite nice, fresh too."

I smiled up at her, "Sure, why not?" I asked rhetorically. Then I did something I hadn't done in years, not since a shy little eighteen year old was teaching an unruly eleven year old how to stay alive in the face of trained assassins and professional poisoners. I blew a little green fireball up at her. She jumped back with a startled 'eep' and then glared at me. I just chuckled and sat up. I was in a good mood after my semi-nap.

Sitting up, I looked at the spread. Clearly Angel had eaten what must have been a salad and Fleuretta had probably only pack two sandwiches, there being only a half of one left. There were other treats. Scones, muffins, some juice, and a little china tea pot sitting on a camp stove and steaming merrily.

We spoke quietly of nothing at all for a few moments, simply enjoying the warm day and company. The conversation eventually got onto old times. "You've certainly grown up." She commented, "You're not the brash eleven year old that I once knew."

"And you are not the timid little sheep at a master's beck and call any more either." I remarked, "Though besides that, little has changed."

She smiled, almost evilly, at me, "We could make it even more like old times." She said, "We could play 'what poison did I put in the tea' again."

"Tetrodotoxin," I replied coolly, "And I've already neutralised it."

She tipped her china cup to me, "Well done, but what about the one in the scones?"

I snorted, "What? You mean scones aren't supposed to have that after taste? I thought you had added grapefruit to it." My words dripped with sarcasm.

She looked at me from beneath her long lashes. Her smile was now quite devious and the only warning I had was the tiny snick of the blade extending. In a fraction of a second we changed from two friends having tea to teacher and student. Her with her element sunk into the cloth and ground just in front of me and myself pressing a butter knife against the blade, keeping it there.

She was half extended over the cloth and with her right hand effectively stuck it gave me an opportunity. I seized it and her hair in my left hand, pressing her face into the cloth and rearranging myself so that I knelt, rather than sat, above her. "You've gotten soft, Fleuretta, telegraphing your attack like that." I tsked at her, "You haven't been practising."

She relaxed under me, a signal that the game was up. "Or you have learned far to much in the art of attack and defence." She said softly, "You could have never pulled that off the last time we met."

"I was still a child when last we met." I released her and we regained our sitting positions.

She giggled girlishly and looked out from behind her pink locks, "You're still a child, barely out of infancy."

"Don't go into semantics with me, I get enough of that from Twilight."

"Well-" BOOM. We blinked at each other. "The... library just exploded, didn't it."

I looked over to where the smoke was pouring into the sky, "Eeyup."

"Oh." She looked at the grass, "Should we go and check to see if everybody is all right?"

"Everyone is probably fine, Twilight put up a tonne of wards to stop things from getting into or out of the library when she doesn't want them to, but she'll be wanting help with the cleanup before the emergency repair crews show up." I extended my hand to her, "Care to join me?"

Fleuretta smiled and slipped her silken hand into my rough one, "I guess, if it's ok."

"Yeah." I answered, and we set off at a slow walk toward the library.

The town was scrambling like a kicked anthill, but nobody was panicking to much beyond the normal screaming and running in circles. Leaves, pieces of wood, and remarkably intact books littered the cobbled streets, the piles of debris growing higher as we approached the library. Or perhaps it should be called the crater that had once been the library.

As Fleuretta and I stepped up to the edge of said crater we were treated to quite the sight. My sister, her trademark purple sweater vest covered in soot, her normally straight hair frizzing, sitting on the ground with her legs straight out in front of her. My smile split my face in two.

"I..." She just looked so confused, "I just don't know what went wrong."

I think I laughed so hard I passed out.

And found myself in a white room filled with six doors. One for each of my closest friends. A voice descends from on high to ask me a question.

Who will show you, at the cost of herself?

I closed my eyes, I didn't want to think anymore, I didn't want to hurt anymore. (End Game)

The White Door (In Progress)

I smiled sadly, but it wasn't something I would think about. Then I opened the white door.

"Spike, could you hand me that dark purple one, right there." Rarity indicated with a wave.

"Of course," I jumped to comply, grabbing the indicated roll of what felt like velvet before walking quickly to where she was pinning together a light ball gown. Rarity wasn't a slave driver by anyone's standards, but she did expect people to work fast, "Otherwise I will lose, as Photo Finish might say, the magiks." I didn't mind either, it kept me on my toes and wasn't too much trouble for the conversation provided.

It wasn't like anyone else was a bad conversationalist, most of them were on par with Twilight and myself, and we were taught by Celestia, but it was hard to get any diversity. Twilight could keep a topic about history, philosophy, or thaumaturgy going for hours but the moment you brought up something like social relationships or gossip and she went all glassy eyed and clammed up. Same went for Shy, if you could get her comfortable enough to really talk, though her preferred topics were animals and herb lore. Dash wouldn't shut up about tricks, stunts, and the Wonderbolts; her only other topic being weather patterns. I'd like not to mention Pinkie Pie or Applejack. With Pinkie Pie, half the time you never knew what she was talking about, and even if you transcribed the conversation its meaning wouldn't become clear for at least five minutes. Applejack was a bit better but her knowledge outside farming was so limited that conversation was generally kept inside her comfort zone in an attempt not to ostracise her in a group of college and university graduates, even Pinkie had chefs training. That left Rarity, who was the only other person besides himself who kept up with more than just a few lines of knowledge.

That isn't to say any of them weren't intelligent. In fact, at one of our weekly picnics there was a very heated debate about the pros and cons of an absolute monarchy like Equestria had and direct representation like what the dragonkin use. After a quick explanation even Applejack left me in the dust on that one. I forget who won in the end, or if they called it a draw, but it was certainly something to see. I referred to all of them as Professor for a full week afterwards.

That reminded me, "So what are your thoughts on Celestia's announcement of the reinstatement of town and city militia?"

"I think it's about time, I mean, the elements can't handle all the countries problems, and what if we fail, or can't get to a problem before it gets out of hand? There should be a defence force to fall back on if that happens."

"Certainly, but isn't it going to alarm some people? What if they hole up with weapons and food like the histories say they did during Discord's rein?" And that's how it went, back and fourth, for hours. It was relaxing in a way that nothing else was, talking with Rarity. Which was probably why I put up with her antics and her tendency to use me like a slave. But that is neither here nor there.

This day, however, was special. You see, I have been trained in many arts: music, dance, sculpting, and calligraphy are all examples of what I've been taught. However, my education only briefly covered an entirely different art, one of subtle nuances and even subtler perceptions. As the more astute of you may have guessed, this is the art of seduction. I have been subtly manipulating the conversation and her perceptions for some time now. Little things are the most important in this game.

I made sure to touch her as often and as lightly as possible. Gently brushing my knuckles against her hand as I pass by her. Reaching out to touch her upper arm or shoulder whenever she looked even the slightest bit concerned or saddened by a piece of news. Offering her a chair and then lightly touching the back of her shoulders and neck when I pulled away.

But this was a multi pronged attack. I kept the conversation on romantic topics as best I could. Who was with who, who was expecting, who was supposedly in a scandal. I kept eye contact as much as possible and pulled my most charming smile when hers met mine. My plan started to come together. She looked at me less often and her face gained a small amount of colour.

Time to seal the deal. I suggested that we adjourn to a small sitting room that Rarity used to relaxation. I made sure to walk just a little closer than necessary and sit right next to her. "Rarity," 'Ok Spike, time to put those acting classes to work' I'm not usually a nervous person, but the situation called for a blush and my body provided. "I... I want to tell you something." She caught my tone and became very still. I knew that she knew what I was about to say. 'C'mon Spike, channel your inner Shy.' "I, well, what I mean to say is-"

"Spike." She cut me off, "I also have something to tell you." Her face had more colour now.

"Oh," I looked disappointed, "Well, you go first." 'C'mon Spike, channel the inexperienced little boy.' Yes, that's who I was now. I was little kid with a crush on an older woman, not the well trained killing machine. I didn't know that if I sucked on the fleshy bit just below her ear that she would moan. I didn't know that liking around the engorgous zones was as stimulating as actually touching them. I looked at the floor and blushed deeper.

"Well," She started, "I just wanted to say that maybe, I, well, you see, you are always helping around the shop and I know you don't like being treated like a kid." She looked up at me before returning her gaze to her lap and coughed delicately. "I thought that, perhaps, if you are amenable to the idea, that maybe we-"

I press my finger against her lips. 'Please tell me that she hasn't fallen for me. I'd feel so bad about doing this if she did.' "Rarity," I say softly, "You are the most beautiful woman that I have ever laid eyes on." I brought my face closer and tilted hers up and slightly to the side. My half lidded eyes met hers and her face went beet red but she didn't pull away as I grew closer.

Our lips pressed together gently and lightning shot down my back and I pulled back a little before pressing in again. Then I pulled back after a second and paused for slightly longer before pushing back in for another short kiss. Her arms began to come up but had yet to grab my shoulders. 'C'mon, you want it. Take what you want. I pull back as she tries to deepen the kiss and she follows be with her mouth for a second. 'That's it, come and get it.' I was getting to into this. The tiny shocks that shot through my body each time our lips met were addicting.

I lured her toward me with little kisses, pressing harder when she seemed to pull back slightly. Soon she was stretched over my body and she finally gave into her desires. She pushed me into the couch and climbed onto my body, pressing her lips against mine and her breasts against my chest. I coaxed her to deepen the kiss with hands that rubbed at the sides of her ribs and a slightly open mouth. Her tongue pressed into my mouth and wrestled with mine. My loins burned and I had no doubt that my erection was pressing into her stomach.

BOOM!

My eyes shot wide and my arms tightened around Rarity's body. I do believe that I just got my world rocked. That or the library exploded... again. Rarity pushes up from on top of me. Her face was less flushed but now her lips were swollen and wet from our kiss. She was panting lightly and my heart was racing. By goddess, that was amazing.

"You should..." She whispered, "Probably go and see if Twilight is alright... Shouldn't you?" Her eyes tell me not to go. They tell me to stay, to touch her. To take off her clothing and press my lips against her bare skin. 'What have I done?' I chose to do this with Rarity because I thought that she would just push it off as a one time thing. A little fun between friends but just a one time thing. I could still salvage the situation. I could tell her that I was overcome with her beauty and couldn't help it but I'm not looking for a relationship. Yeah, that would work.

I look down to where she's laid her head against my chest. I wonder if she heard my heart skip a beat as I gazed upon her beauty. I was not going to fall in love with Rarity. I couldn't. But my heart had other thoughts. Thoughts like how silky her hair was between my fingers. How she was always ready to give anything you needed. How she pouted with her big puppy dog eyes when she wanted something. How her body pressed into mine, heavier than she looked, hinting at the muscle that lay beneath.

Who will find you, but still be to late?

I closed my eyes, I didn't want to think anymore, I didn't want to hurt anymore. (End Game)

The Black Room (In Progress)

My eyes remain closed, darkness surrounds me. Am I in my bed? At home? I cannot tell. Memories, lost to me while I stood in the white room, slotted themselves into place.

One Last Birthday Present

The note on the door said, "Come right in a be very quiet." Which would have been strange by itself but in addition there were little hearts scattered around the edges of the paper. Mentally shrugging I slowly opened the door and slipped in, closing it quietly behind me.

The living room of the small cottage was dark with only the moonlight spilling through a few windows. The small wooden houses were silent, the small creatures either asleep or out in the night. Peeking around for the owner of this creature filled abode I spotted the soft flicker of candle light coming from the top of the stairs. I grinned. Invited to come to a beautiful woman's house after the party for a "special birthday present" and finding that the only room in the house with a light on is her bedroom? Sounds like the start of a teenager's wet dream.

I reigned in my thoughts, it wouldn't do to enter a ladies room sporting a tent now would it. I removed my boots and hung my jacket on a nearby coat hook before carefully moving up the stairs. Perhaps she had an animal for me? One that was easy to take care of and perhaps liked to live quietly? That would be just like her, wanting to make something like that special. Perhaps a nice docile cat. That'd be nice. One that wouldn't try to eat Owlowicious. I smiled at the thought of a tiny furry white thing trying to maul the large owl and just being brushed aside. Or perhaps-

... Woah. Thoughts fled as I looked into Fleuretta's room. So much for not sporting a tent.

Kneeling in the centre of the butterfly patterned quilt was what would only be called a goddess. My gaze travailed slowly up from where she knelt. Her ankles were locked together with a pair of tight synthetic leather cuffs but her knees were forced apart by a long back bar with similar cuffs attached to the ends. Glorious thigh gave way to sheer black silk panties that tied at the hips like a bikini. Above them, miles of lightly curving stomach basked in the shadows of two titillating mounts of peach flesh held back by a tiny black strapless bra that allowed a small crescent of flushed dark pink areola to peek from beneath their silk confines.

Pink locks cascaded down over collar bone and the tops of her breasts in waves that could only hint at the pleasure that running a hand through them would give. Swollen, blood darkened red lips glistened with moisture as her small pink tongue darted out to lick them before they parted, ready to be kissed. Ready to be ravished. Eyes that were a beautiful as the blue sky on a perfect summer's day were hidden behind a blindfold that enhanced the beauty of her face regardless of hiding her soul.

Then my eyes travailed higher. Up beautifully toned arms and to a long silk rope that held her by the wrists. I felt a growl build in my throat. Not one of anger or greed, no, this was pure lust. Kneeling before me, offering herself to my whims, was this perfect goddess of love and lust.

"Master?" Her tiny voice inquired, as if she could feel my eyes running over her, caressing her, "Master, please." She arches her back, presenting herself to me as if for inspection. Then I hear it, a faint buzz, like a tiny bee, which is when I look to the small side table by the door. Perhaps anticipating, perhaps fearing, a riding crop of a whip I see instead a long red feather, like that of a phoenix, and a small pink remote with a slide switch and nothing else.

"Master," She said again, "Have I... Has your pet been a good girl?" Oh Goddess, that pleading tone, I almost creamed my pants right there.

Picking up the remote I debated whether or not to speak. No, better not to give her any warning. I slid the switch higher, it had barely been on. The pink maned woman jolted, arching her back further as she gasped with the more intense sensation.

I slowly circled as she regained her composure, "Master?" She asks again. I slowly come nearer the bed from behind her and lean in, careful not to touch her.

"Yes, pet?" I whisper in her ear and she nearly flinches away. Nearly.

"Have... Has your pet pleased you?" She asks. I allow the growl, more a purr now, to build in my throat and I barely recognise the rough, husky voice that comes out of my mouth.

"Yes pet, you've pleased me quite nicely. What should I give you as a reward, hmm?"

"Could I.... C-could you... Kiss me." I smile. All this and she wants a kiss. Well, there's something to be said for the long build up. I slowly climb onto the bed, careful not to touch her and come to kneel behind her.

"Just... A kiss?"

"Y-... Yes master." Her breath hitches as I push lightly on her elbows, getting her to bring her arms forward and lean her head back. I run my fingers over he blushing cheeks and trail them through her rose locks. She frowns lightly as my hands continue down onto her back and under her bra. "Master?" She asks as I begin undoing the tiny hooks.

"Shh, pet," I whisper as the final catch is loosed and the black cloth falls away, releasing her perfectly shaped breasts to bounce lightly. Tossing the cloth aside I gently take her head in my other hand and gently but firmly press her face in her shoulder. Exposing her neck I bring my lips close and breath lightly just beneath her ear, eliciting a shiver.

"Here pet?" I whisper, "Should I kiss you here?" She whimpers. "No." I move slowly down her back, turning the remote's switch up as I go. Now I bring my claws into play, lightly running them down her shoulder blade from her shoulder to just above the two small yellow wing tattoos near the centre of her back. "Or maybe here?" She stiffens as I breath on the marks, her breathing laboured.

I hovered for a second before lowering my lips to the tiny mark. Fleuretta moaned and bucked lightly as the dual sensations of the rotor and my mouth overrode her mind, shrouding it in a white haze that had her squirming, though whether to get away or push into the sensations I couldn't know.

I slowly extended my tongue to taste her supple flesh and shuddered my self as electricity coursed through my body. "M-more," She panted, "M-more Master."

I smiled against her skin before moving just a little farther down, dragging my tongue across the mark to just below the tip of the left one where I bit lightly.

"Ah!" Fleuretta stiffened, back arched and head thrown back as two great ethereal wings sprouted from the marks and stood, somehow giving off the impression of being both stiff and throbbing.

"Good girl." I whisper again as I back off the bed and circle back around to her front and take in her beauty once more as she shivers lightly with stiff wings held high and straight, mouth wide and expression tight.

"M-master. I-I'm close." My smile slides from awe filled to devious as I smoothly slide the switch down.

"Not yet pet." I say as she whimpers, "We've only just begun." I replace the remote on the night stand and pick up the feather. Laying underneath the feather was a tiny key, no doubt to the cuff she was wearing and something hands to have later.

"Now my pet, my dove, my beautiful little song bird..." I coo to her, starting to really get into the mindset, "Sing for me." And I apply the feather like a surgeon, trailing the soft tip from her belly button, up the centre of her chest to the hollow of he throat and down again.

Thighs, arms, face, and lips feel the soft caress of the feather as her body cools down and her stiff wings flap lightly, creating a tiny breeze in the room. I begin to attack more sensitive areas. The edges of her large areola, her inner thigh, and the shell of her ear all taste the exquisite sensation of feather on flesh.

Fleuretta's breathing eventually eases enough for her to get another word out. "Master..." She trails off, not knowing what to ask.

"Shh, pet." I lay a soothing finger across her lips, "Just let Master take care of everything." I return to the side table and retrieve the remote, sliding the switch slightly up. "Yes." I whisper to myself, "My pet."

I juggle my implements of torture and discard my shirt on my way back to the bed, a down right evil grin splitting my face from ear to ear. "Just. Leave. Everything... To me." And with that proclamation her slow torture begins. Light caresses with the feather, a claw, my lips trailed here and there across her body drew light moans and ragged whimpers as I slowly raised the speed of the rotor held close to her sex by the now sopping black panties.

Minutes dragged to hours as her body began standing at attention, begging for my every touch and stroke, and trembled lightly as her satisfaction approached but was never achieve as I lowered the switch and removed feather or lips or claws from flesh. Changing disappointed whimpers to gasps and moans with a light kiss on the throat or the flesh of her stomach.

The process was repeated once, twice, thrice as her lips grew from a dark pink to a blood red; as her nipples grew stiff as diamond and her breasts seemed to swell with nerves that screamed in pleasure that neared pain as clear nectar trailed tiny rivers down her inner thighs.

As her fourth orgasm built tears escaped from behind the black blindfold though her mouth stayed slightly open and ready for a kiss or a moan as a light claw trailed its way down a breast just to the side of the darkened nipple.

"M..." She licks her lips, "M-master, p-please." Her begging takes on a truly pleading tone, "I... Your pet's been a good girl hasn't she?"

"Yes," I reply as I slide the switch to its maximum position and drop it onto the floor, "Yes, she has." My right hand continued down her stomach toward her hips as my face draws level with hers. "My beautiful little pet deserves a reward, doesn't she?" I gently press my hand into the apex of her thighs, pressing the rotor deep into her swollen nether lips and against her clit.

"Ahh~" She sang and I pressed my lips to hers while my other hand tangled themselves into her sweat dampened locks. I swallowed her scream as she bucked against my hand and pressed her chest flush with mine, doing her best to mould her body into the planes of my own while she drenched my hand with an unending flood of sticky fluid.

For Fleuretta, the orgasm seemed to last a lifetime as she pressed her lips and breasts and vagina hard into Spike and, had she the ability to think, she might have regretted not being able to wrap her arms around him and bear him to the dampening quilt as she rode wave after wave of euphoric bliss until her body and her mind were spent and she slumped into his arms as much as she could with her wrists still bound above her.

Green fire flared as I summoned the tiny amount of magic needed to burn through the silken rope holding her up and her arms dropped lifelessly down onto my shoulders. "Can't feel my hands." She mumbles into my shoulder and I see that there are rings of red flesh on her wrists but after a quick examination there appears to be no permanent damage.

"Vibrator" She mumbles and tries to reach down toward the buzzing that was still filling the room and I quickly realise that it must be uncomfortable for her. Two quick tugs of the bows at her hips and the panties which were now more love juices than silk slaps wetly to the bedding in a lewd parody of flesh on flesh.

"Fleuretta," I breath into her ear, "Your going to need to fly for a minute while I fix everything up." I feel bad about doing it to the sleepy woman but I wasn't going to let her sleep with her knees splayed on a quilt covered in her own juices, kinky as that would have been. She mumbles something incoherent but her wings begin flapping stronger and soon her weight is lifted off me so that I scramble off the bed, pulling the quilt with me before she flops down onto her front and splays out is a very unladylike manner.

I smile as I drop the sodden linen on the ground and retrieve the small key I had noticed earlier. A quick look around reveals no cloths and I wasn't going to go looking for one so I scoop my shirt off the floor as I approach the bed and the half catatonic woman residing on it. A few clicks, wipes, and pats, dries her thighs and nether lips of love juice and removes the cuffs from her legs.

I drop my pants and boxers with the items on the floor and toe off my socks before crawling in beside the near sleeping woman. She turns slightly and cuddles into my side as I look down into her blindfold. Smiling I remove the small obstruction to gaze into her half lidded eyes.

"This was supposed to be your birthday present." She grumbles lightly and I kiss the top of her head.

"Nobody said that you had to give me my present the day of my birthday. I'll still be here in the morning." I point out. She smiles and cuddles closer as we fall asleep under the gently waving rays of sun she calls wings, me and my goddess.

The Orange Door (In Progress)

I sighed sadly, it's not something I wanted to ponder. Then I opened the orange door.

I snapped my hand into the stream of red and plucked from it a bright red apple.

"... which is how Ah was able t' get more 'n half the south field done in a week." Applejack said to Twilight.

"Impressive." My sister complimented, "But it must have pushed you to your limits. You didn't hurt yourself, right?"

"Nah, had to take it slow a few days afterwards but I ain't got no complaints."

Who will you lose, silent and grave?

I closed my eyes, I didn't want to think anymore, I didn't want to hurt anymore. (End Game)

A Drink in The Dark with an Old Friend

Several centuries after the events of the main story line.

A soft click was swallowed by the darkness as the door closed, restoring the room to pitch blackness. The soft susurrous of bare feet on thickly carpeted floors would have been inaudible to someone less keen or well trained than I, but I used the sound to track her movements as she approached me. A sliding of wooden legs on the carpet, then a small sigh and a tiny creak told me that she sat down. I didn't need to see to know the look on her face, the tiny pout she got when she was tired and the night was done, the lolling of the neck as muscles relaxed, the hooded eyes, I knew them all by heart.

The wine bottle was heavy as I slowly picked it up. I moved the bottle carefully, not spilling a drop as I filled first her glass, then mine. Its aroma slowly filled the space between us as the bottle was returned to the space it had previously occupied.

We didn't need words, not after all this time. We no longer used gestures either, beyond the most minute of muscular twitching. I could feel her arm move in the swirling of sent and air, sense the glass bend at the molecular level as her hand delicately grasped the crystal chalice and lifted it off the table. I raised my hand to my own glass, the tips of my claws fitting precisely into the tiny indents they had carved over an uncountable number of mornings.

The silence rang with the pure note of semi-filled crystal colliding almost delicately. I sipped at mine, but I knew that this day would not be one for quiet contemplation and exchange, no, this day would serve another, perhaps even more enjoyable purpose. I heard a most unladylike gulp as she finished the glass in a single pull. I could practically taste the fire and ice as it flowed down her throat. I couldn't help the rumble of amusement deep in my chest. Our physiology didn't allow for the consumption of mind altering substances to be anything less than... excessive, if we wanted to feel any of the effects at all.

My eyes finally adjusted properly to the tiny lights that danced in her eyes as I lifted the wine bottle to fill her glass a second time. She held it up again and I could almost make out the tiny smirk that would be gracing her soft lips. 'Like a child, she must always have her way.' I lightly tapped the edge of my glass, my own mouth quirking a bit at her antics.

This went on for several minutes. I would pour a glass, she would raise it, I would lightly tap it with my own and take a sip, and she would down the entire glass before proffering it to be refilled. It was like a ritual, the way this would sometimes happen. Like a perfect machine we would repeat this very night, over and over, thousands of time, never deviating, never changing the motions or motivations.

Each drink relaxed the woman further. First, her legs would stretch out to lightly rest her feet atop my own. Then, her wings would spill from her back and onto the ground like the train of a dress. As the bottle would inevitably run dry and my own glass would be just slightly less than half full, her neck and arms would relax and the goblet would rest back where it had started.

She would look almost forlornly at my half full glass, then up at me, tiny diamonds sparkling in her deep, blue-green eyes. My smile grew wider, but the silence was unbroken, we knew the words.

"Are you going to finish that?" She would ask, her voice like velvet and light and sex that rolled into my ears to take root in my mind.

"Perhaps." I would respond, "Would you like some?"

"Mmm" She would moan, all the invitation I would need.

I would tip the glass toward myself, taking the last of the wine into my mouth. Then I would slowly stand from my chair and take the three steps necessary to reach her side. There I would kneel next to her and touched her chin with my hand, gently turning her face to me. I would lightly pressed my lips to hers. I would open my mouth slightly and she would do the same as I slowly gave her the wine. Most of it would run down our cheeks, drip from our chins, and stain the clothing we wore, but we wouldn't care.

After the kiss, she would slowly lift her hands to her crown and slowly, ever so slowly, lift it from her brow. allowing a cascade of blue hair to obscure her dark face and twinkling eyes. The crown would clink upon the table, and the night would truly begin.

I brush the hair from her face, my clawed fingers gently trailing along her cheekbone. She presses her face into my soft touch, nuzzling my palm, licking lightly at my wrist. I rest my other hand on her face and we share another kiss, deeper this time, our tongues neither battling nor dancing, simply reacquainting themselves with each other. She tasted of a night breeze and moon beams. Her moan sounded like warm rain against the skin, and the feel of her cool body pressing closer into my embrace felt like a diamond on my tongue, minty and sweet.

I slide one arm under her knees, the other along her back, and lift her easily. She is light in my arms, and cool as she nuzzles into my chest. I never wear a shirt on these occasions, for I know how she loves my scent. A few steps to the giant, canopied bed, the star patterned coverlet invisible in the black, but I could trace each constellation from memory, had I the need.

I smirk in the dark. At this point the gentleman is supposed to place the lady gently upon the bed, removing her clothing delicately, perhaps kissing each inch of exposed flesh. Needless to say, some things just aren't our style. I toss the woman onto the bed as though she were a girl of half her size and follow with a pounce. Claw meets fabric and lips lock as I pin her to the bed, relishing the feeling of dominance that she let me exert over her.

Mine. I did not need to speak it. It was in the hand that roughly squeezed a breast, in the knee that forced her legs apart, in the fang that pinched lightly on her lower lip, eliciting a breathy moan from the woman's lithe form. I prick her several times with my claws, going so far as to open a tiny slice on her inner thigh, she loves it.

Her breath puffs out as I slowly lick up her long neck, ending just behind her ear lobe. A gentle nibble makes her groan deep in her throat and clutch at my upper arms. Then I reach down and slice the gown from her body, she never wore undergarments to these little get-togethers, nor did I, as she revealed when she roughly pulled the dark slacks I was wearing from my body.

I groan as she runs her razor sharp nails lightly over my inner thighs, my mind hazing and filling with thoughts of want and need. I lean down to a bared breast and run my tongue around the outside of her dark areola, skimming the sensitive skin with my sharp teeth. Claws, nails, teeth and fangs, we touch, lick, and bite at one another, until sweat and saliva and a few traces of blood mix into a sweet nectar that coats our tongues and stokes our lust into a blazing fire of need.

Lips lock and tongues lash against each other, eliciting moans from us both. Reaching down, I catch at the back of her knee and raise it, revealing her sweet flower to my throbbing phallus. She inhales in a shuddering gasp as I slowly entered her, sliding on the juices produced by our extended foreplay. I groan as I hilt myself within her and she pulls me down for another kiss, this one sloppy, all tongue and saliva that coats our lips and leaves a trail from our mouths as we pull away.

"Fuck me." It wasn't a sound, nor a memory of a sound, but it rang in the room like an orchestra of bells, signalling the pleasure to come.

And I did; I pull my cock almost all the way out of her before pressing back in, over and over, long, slow pulls that make her raise her hips and latch onto my arms. I set a steady rhythm, slowly building speed and changing my angle as her groans became moans, then shouts, then screams as I pound her, flesh slapping against flesh.

I knew she was getting close, but I only felt the initial building of my own release, and she never liked to leave me behind, so I grabbed her knee again and twisted her body so that I straddled her left leg and her right thigh was held loosely in my left hand. I feel her inner walls contract around my pistoning cock and I rumble out a guttural sound of pleasure. She moans again as her pleasure builds, climbing higher and higher until she's hitting notes that most birds would envy. My own pleasure builds quickly, but I want more.

I continue to turn her body until she is face down and I's straddling both her legs as I fuck her into the bed like a beast. Her screams were muffled by the bed, but she still pulled off the kind of volume you'd hear at a rock concert. Her inner walls clamp down on me, milking me for my thick seed, and I oblige, pouring my hot spunk deep inside her as I press the tip of my cock against her cervix and fill her womb.

She lays under me, shuddering with the force of our coupling, no doubt grinning like a fool, or with her tongue lolling out of her mouth in animal satisfaction, but I didn't care.

Her body is no longer cool to the touch, heated as it was with excitement, but it was still delicious to touch as I slide my softening phallus out of her and fall onto my side. She wiggles around until we were face to face before pressing into me, nuzzling into the hollow between shoulder and neck, and tangling her legs with mine. For my part I slie my arm around her and pull her tight against my chest.

I listen as our breaths slow and deepen, moving into the rhythm of sleep, and our minds move into the place between waking and sleep, the place of dreams, the pace of thoughts, and I find myself thinking. Thinking of the woman I held in my arms, so much older than myself, yet still with a childlike love of fun and friends. Thinking of myself, and what I have become after all these years. Thinking of how she matches me so perfectly, as if we had been created for one another.

We never spoke of love. Not to one another, and not to anyone else. No, to call it love would be almost... insulting, to what we shared. Love was powerful, yes, but the candle that burns twice as bright... But what do we have? Words cannot explain. Not how we know each others thoughts before a single word has been spoken. Not how we know the physical and mental health of the other without even needing to be in the same room. Not how we anticipate the others actions so that to look at us you would see the reaction before the action. Not how, with the lightest touch, or softest word spoken in a world filled with noise, we could comfort and reassure the one another. No, words could not describe the completeness we feel, not in such a way that the one reading such words could understand what it feels like to be properly whole.

I know such a feeling, and it is not love, no, it is something far greater and deeper. If the candle that burns twice as bright burns half as long, then our candle is only the twinkle of a star in the night sky, for ours shall outlive all others.