I sit in my dark bedroom and light a candle with a flame spell. My white coat shines in the dim light, hitting certain spots on my body to make a light on the wall. I close my big blue eyes and start to meditate. I breathe in and out for five minutes until I hear a pounding on the front door of my house. I jump at the loud sound and stand up. I blow out the shrinking candle and open my oak door. I trot down the redwood stairs and teleport to my front door. Using magic to open the paint splatter door, I keep the chain on. I look through the small crack and see my crush from Artview High. I stare him up and down, to admire his dripping wet, shimmering, coat, and his bright blue eyes. His brown mane and light tan coat glisten in the light of my front room chandelier.
“Hey Rhiannon. Can I come in?” He asks me with a very British accent. I had remembered the British voice from my trip to Great Britain in the human world.
I nod my head slowly and unchain the door and open it wider. I stay quiet as I admire his beauty. I had begun to blush when he smiled at my eyes.
“So. Tom. What brought you to my house tonight?” I ask heavily blushing.
“Well. My mare friend had dumped me tonight and kicked me out of the apartment we live in. I needed a place to stay, thought of you because everypony talks about you, and just came here in the rain. I guess that fills up my explanation,” he says with a smile.
“But, no pony talks about me. I’m invisible at school. I only have one friend and she just moved away. So I’m back at square one again. That’s why I always sit alone. And what do the other ponies “say” about me?” I ask with much wonder.
“Well, I did hear a colt say you’re very beautiful, but he didn’t have the courage to ask you out on a date. So, the other ponies also say that you’re smart, unique, kind, generous, honest, funny, and loyal. They also like your art. It’s different,” he whispers looking away from me with a heavy blush on his cheeks.
I giggle at the compliments that he had said. Tom Mison was funny that way. He was an excellent actor and very talented. He was loved by all the mares at Artview and all the colts were very jealous.
I begin to get antsy and start rambling. I couldn’t stop myself but I was just bored. Finally I shut up and he hums a song. Brave by Sara Bareilles. A mare that went to Artview. Brave is my favorite song and I hum with him until we finish. Then we start to sing With Your Love by Cher Lloyd. Another mare that went to our school. They had graduated and began their life being famous when their song were “published” I guess.
“Tom?” I ask the light tan Pegasus, “Would you like to see some of my art work?”
“Totally. I mean, yes,” he smiles, “and please, call me Ichabod.”
I agree to the name and I run to get some of my best work. He stares in awe at the pieces I had brought down. I was going to sell the pieces this weekend at the Minnetrottan Farmers Market.
“Can I see how you do this style?” Ichabod asks me.
“Huh? Oh. Um… Well… Uh… Um… Sure,” I break up the sentence.
“Great. I’ll go get the supplies,” he blushes.
“And I’ll get you a blanket and light the fireplace so you can be warm. I don’t have the heater installed yet,” I laugh.
We part our ways in the house as I light the firewood with the same spell that I had used on the candle from a half hour earlier. I dash to get the towel for Icky when I hear another knock on the door. I run to get the door instead of retrieving the blanket. I open it without a second thought of chaining it first. I look around to see who was there but no pony seemed to be seen. I look down and see a letter with some Lilacs. I love Lilacs. I levitate the letter and open it.
Rhiannon,
I have seen you at Artview High for the past three years. I have seen you go through hard times, such as losing your pet and having your friend move away to a “better” high school. I wanted to talk to you but all of my friends have called you weird and other mean things. I was a loner like you for the longest time since I moved to this town. What I really want to tell you in this letter is that I would like to ask you out. Meet me at Flora Gardens at four pm tomorrow. I love you Rhia.
Sincerely,
_____________
I stare at the letter in awe as Icky walks up behind me.
“Rhia? You OK?” He asks.
“Huh? Yeah. Sorry. I just got this letter and flowers telling me to meet the writer at four pm at Flora Gardens. How weird?” I fake a laugh.
He does the same. I start to hum a song by Passenger and walk to my canvas. I levitate my candle downstairs from my room and black out the lights not including the warm fire. Lighting the candle, I close my eyes and meditate. Breathing in and out for five minutes, I begin to paint what I see in my head. I see Flora Gardens and the pony who wrote the letter. He remained the shade black as I drew myself with a flower in the long braid running down the side of my head.
When I finish the painting, I open my blue eyes. I stare at the piece of work as I turn on the lights again. I growl at it as I notice that it turned out really bad. Only Tom loved the piece of ugly crap.
"Rhiannon? Can I have this," he squeaks as his voice cracks.
"Sure. Its all yours. But I mustache you a question," I quote.
"Shoot," he replies.
"Kay. Question one. Would you like to stay the night, question two, can I have your cell number," I ask him in monotone.
"Whay do you nee- oh. Yeah sure! And I would love to stay the night. I really don't know where else to go Rhia. Do you wanna play some games?" He asks me standing up.
I nod as my white cheeks start to seriously blush a blood red. I levitate out my phone and we trade them to get each others numbers in them.
"Well. Um. I'm really tired right now. I'm gonna literally hit the hay. Um. You can rest on the couch. Lemme get it set up for you," I stutter.
"Oh. OK. Sleep well Rhiannon," he whispers.
I run to grab the spare blankets and pillows downstairs. In a few minutes, I'm back from the basement. Levitating the blankets and pillow, I set up the hide-a-bed and he brings them over as I set them on the ground. He drops the pillow and I slightly raced for it. He did the same and we touched hooves as we grabbed for the pillow.
I finished the work as he placed on the pillow and we parted our ways. I just went to my room to paint, and avoid him. I didn't need any mistakes that night. An hour later, while I finished up my last painting, I went to bed.
