“Of course dear, I understand. See you soon”
Mixy pressed the telephone receiver firmly against her ear, trying to hear every last sound coming from the other end, as if she didn’t want the conversation to end. She let out a heavy sigh as she heard the receiver hang up on the other end of the line and a dull, flat tone played down the earpiece. She placed her receiver back on top of the dial with a heavy hoof before setting the telephone back on her bedside table. Clasping her light grey hooves together, she laid back into the pillows behind her and contemplated her current state, staring up at the ceiling above herself.
Over the past few days she had slowly started to become more and more disheartened due to her present situation. It had all started when Ostin, her husband, had asked her to help move a heavy metal chest down the stairs that lead from their shed at the bottom of the garden. Unfortunately, due to a mixture the steep incline of the stairs, the rough cobblestone they were made out of, the weight of the chest, the fact that they were both earth ponies and that she was carrying the lower end of the chest, a freak stumble whilst halfway down had resulted in a broken hind leg, which in turn had lead to Ostin panicking, hyperventilating and promptly fainting at her side.
Now, Mixy found herself laid in a sitting position on her bed, with her right hind leg bound in a plaster cast that tended to itch from time to time. Her boredom had just been further added to with the phone conversation she’d just finished. The upcoming weekend was meant to be a weekend when Octavia would have visited them both in Trottingham, which would have given her something to look forward to. However, after talking on the phone with her daughter about a new performance date that clashed with that weekend and would see Octavia as far out of reach as possible, Mixy had cheerfully told her to go to the concert instead, hiding the pang of sadness at not being able to see her only daughter again for while.
With a faint click the door to the bedroom opened allowing Ostin to push the door open with his back as he walked in on his hind legs, holding a small wicker hamper in his fore-hooves. Being able to walk on only your hind legs for prolonged periods of time was quite an impressive talent for a pony, and it was one that Ostin was very proud that his daughter had inherited from him, along with his fashion sense of a bowtie and collar that clung tightly round his neck, though unlike his daughter’s his bow was a rich hue of crimson. However, like Mixy Ostin had a light grey coat (Though he always made a point of saying it had a slight brown tinge to it, however unnoticeable it was) but had a well kept short blonde mane and tail instead of his wife’s sweeping, greyish black hairstyle. He rested the hamper on the bed beside his wife
“So, what did Octavia have to say?” He asked as he jumped up on top of the bed covers and sat on his haunches.
“She’s not coming” Mixy almost whispered “She had a music event going on. I told her to go there instead”
Ostin raised a fore-hoof as if to make a point, but quickly stopped himself, his mouth still slightly agape. Mixy always found this dumbfounded look of his somewhat amusing, even though it had occurred daily ever since she’d first met him several years back. It was as if he’d carefully scripted out everything that was most likely to be said in his head before the conversation and planned his responses beforehand, and then she’d ruined it by saying something he totally wasn’t expecting.
“Well, I suppose that means that I’ll be able to spend lots more time answering to your every need” he finally replied.
“Ostin, please” she pointed to her cast “I think you’ve done enough for me already this week”
“What’s wrong with how I’ve been caring for you so far?” Ostin stuck his bottom lip out, clearly trying to forget the fact that it was mainly due to his butter hooves that his wife was recovering from a broken leg in the first place.
“Well for starters, do I really have to wear a spare set of your pyjamas? “ Mixy outstretched her forehooves, trying to emphasise on the white and blue striped fabric that adorned her body.
“Now, now dear” he gently patted her on the head in a slightly patronising fashion “You know the doctor said you’re to keep warm and comfortable whilst your leg heals. You’ve dressed me up a good few times; I thought I’d return the favour whilst carrying out his demands”
“But couldn’t you find anything else that would be more suited to a mare?”
“Well, my pyjamas were the only clothes that would fit over that pot” he hesitated slightly, carefully planning how best to phrase his next words “…after a great deal of struggling with the bottoms I’ll admit. But you always remark that I look cute in them”
“Yes Ostin, but the same can’t be said when they’re on me!”
Mixy folded her fore-hooves as she sank back into the pillows propping her up once more, pouting with her eyes fixed straight ahead at the wall on the other side of the room, trying to ignore Ostin’s fruitless attempts to make conversation.
“Well, they should be a comfortable fit dear, after all, I have to buy them in Mares sizes given that I’m too small for regular Stallions sizes” Ostin practically beamed.
“I don’t think that’s something you should be proud of, dear”
The smile promptly dropped from Ostin’s face, along with his eyebrows.
“Well, then” Ostin said, a slight smirk beginning to form on his face “If you’re going to be like that then I suppose that just leaves more for me…”
He made a grab for the hamper that he’d set own on the bed, but quicker than he could react Mixy leaned forward and grabbed him by his collar, pulling him into a sitting position next to her.
“Now Ostin, you should know by now that you can’t get away that easily” she released her grip “I’m sorry I’ve acted ungrateful for everything you’ve done for me, I’m just a bit restless as having been stuck in bed the past few days. I do appreciate everything you’ve done for me, including whatever’s in that hamper”
“Well you shan’t be disappointed then” Ostin remarked, propping himself upright and taking the hamper in hoof.
He flipped back the lid, taking out a pair of oven gloves and slipping them over his fore-hooves before gently lift out a large brown glazed pot from the hamper, the word ‘soup’ stamped on it’s front in large, bold black lettering. What type of soup was inside wasn’t apparent, as a heavy lid adorned its top, keeping its contents hot.
Holding the pot nearer to Mixy with an outstretched hoof, Ostin removed the lid. Inside, the hot steam rose off of the watery liquid, whilst generous chunks of carrot, onion, and leek floated about on the surface.
“I made you your favourite broth, m’ lady” Ostin said, trying a very bad attempt as impersonating a butler from a stately home.
Despite all his unfortunate setbacks, such as his weakness and tendency to make all the wrong decisions, there was one thing Mixy was sure about her husband, and that was that his working class background had given him the skills to be able to make some of the best meals from the most basic ingredients.
“Oh, Ostin” She pulled him in for a tight hug.
Ostin quickly reached forward and grabbed the pot with both hooves, ensuring that it wasn’t going to spill its piping hot contents over both of them. The last thing he wanted was to have to spend a week in bed recovering from burns. He could feel the immense strength of Mixy’s fore-hooves slowly constricting his chest as she gave him a kiss on the cheek. As much as he loved her, he had to admit that her immense strength did scare him at times. After a short while, her grip slackened, enabling Ostin to actually get round to serving up some of the broth.
Handing a full bowl to her, he then put the pot back into the hamper and placed it on the floor beside the bed before taking a blanket that they kept folded at the end of the bed and gently pulling it over Mixy. With one final stretch of his fore-hooves, he slowly sank back onto the bed and lay down next to his wife.
“So, do you have any plans for the weekend instead?” Ostin asked, closing his eyes as he let his head sink back into the soft fluffy pillow.
“Oh I’m not sure” Mixy ate a spoonful of the broth before continuing “I might continue with some of my knitting. I still need to make you some new woollen linings for the inside of your winter boots. I know how easily you can feel the cold”
She looked over at Ostin, whose mouth was now hanging agape as he'd quickly begun snoring his way into the land of nod. She did think about waking him, but it was only now that she noticed the dark patches under his eyes, his mane also looked a tad shaggier and she was sure that upon closer inspection that he was also wearing the same bow-tie and collar from the previous day. She then looked back at the broth in her hooves, realising that he must have slaved away most of the morning to make it to try and please her, along with rushing about trying to make her as comfortable as possible. It had clearly taken its toll on him, so sleep was the greatest gift that she could give him in return.
Finishing her broth quickly, she placed the bowl on her bedside cabinet before snuggling down further under the blanket, being careful not only of her leg, but also not to wake her husband. Leaning over and giving him a light kiss on the end of his nuzzle, she shut her eyes and drifted off to sleep in the afternoon sun that flooded in through the bedroom window.
Author's Note
So, it begins.
Most of you will know that I've taken up writing to try and combat previous problems I've had with writing during my University course. Hopefully, this should be the start of a long transition to confident writing for me.
Being totally honest, I was completely stumped at what to write for first piece, which I suppose just shows how much of a visual person I am (Hardly surprising, being a student animator and illustrator) because there were so many ideas I could think of visually, but couldn't for the life of me work out how to translate those mental images into words. It's quite frustrating at times. Anyhow, this is what I ended up with, I'm not really too sure where I was going with this, which is why I feel the ending was quite....rushed....
There was originally a small sequence with Ostin making sock puppets and attempting to try a little bit of amateur theatre, alas it was just one of those segments I just couldn't seem to get right. Who knows, maybe I might attempt that later on...
Late evenings in the Melody household in early spring were normally fairly quiet. Ostin and Mixy would both spend many hours lounging on their battered, worn, but well loved sofa and armchair set in front of a roaring log fire, letting the burning wood crackle away against the sounds of the fairly common rain and hail storms outside that frequented this time of year. The light from the fire would cast a warm orange glow through their living room, with the oak beams along the walls that held up the interior of the house casting large shadows as they would normally enjoy a pre-bedtime pot of tea together.
This is why Mixy was quite surprised one evening when Ostin stepped into the living room. As normal he'd dressed into his blue striped pyjamas ready for bed (Being the only pony Mixy knew who wore more to bed than to work!) and was wearing his thick burgundy dressing gown on top. What wasn't normal however, was the brown paper package wrapped up string that he was carrying in his mouth.
She set down her now empty favourite mug (Which had been fairly badly painted by Ostin at the local pottery several years back) on the small coffee table beside where she sat as he climbed up into the vacant space on the sofa next to her, still warm from when he'd left it moments earlier. Ostin took the parcel from his mouth with his hooves and handed it to her.
"What's this?"
"Oh" Ostin's cheeks turned a little red, but there was also an air of nervousness about him "Just a little something I picked up in town that I thought you might like"
Holding the parcel in her hands she could tell immediately from how it felt that he'd brought her some form of clothes. She silently prayed that he hadn't been attempting to buy her Lingerie again. She prayed even more that if he had, that this time he wouldn't admit to holding the various items up against himself to see if they would fit her, the two of them being roughly the same size. She'd never quite able to get those mental images out of her head, not that that was entirely a bad thing. She pulled the ends on the hastily fastened bow, allowing the brown paper wrapping to fall open in her lap. She stared down at the contents. In the corner of her eye she could just make out Ostin making a big nervous grin on his face, much like how Octavia used to grin after the few times she had accidentally gotten at the coffee pot as a filly, also nervously tapping the tips of his forehooves together slowly and silently.
Mixy lifted up the first garment. It was a thick white flannel shirt. Looking down again, the other garment was also made of thick white flannel, though clearly designed to go round her legs. It was just like a set of pyjamas, then it hit her, it was a pair of pyjamas just like the ones Ostin was currently wearing. The only difference being that instead of deep blue stripes, these ones had deep scarlet coloured stripes.
A small moment of awkward silence passed.
"Well?" Ostin started.
"Well what?"
"Aren't you going to try them on?" He asked.
As nice as it was to be given a spontaneous gift, Mixy wasn't too keen on the idea "Ostin, I don't think..."
"It's ok, I'll help you!"
Mixy would have protested, but before she could say anything Ostin had playfully pushed her backwards so that was lying on her back along the sofa, and was busying himself pulling the pyjama bottoms up along her legs. He began to struggle though as he progressed towards her rump and hips, trying to lift her rear further into the air a few times to try and get a better angle to tug downwards from.
He took a brief moment to contemplate this "Have you been putting o-"
"Don't you dare finish that question Ostin!" Mixy growled at him, pointing a hoof right in his face.
It was true, she had put on a little more weight lately, not that it was too noticeable, mainly caused by the amount of wet weather causing her to spend most days cooped up in the house, and having not had the dead weight of Vinyl in a perambulator to push to the local market and back for quite some time now. That used to make her shed a few pounds.
She scowled at Ostin as he let go of the elastic waistband, letting it snap against her waist. Ostin instantly regretted that decision. Reaching down, he pulled he back up into a sitting position by pulling her up by grabbing her underneath her forelegs. He also picked up the pyjama top, quickly threading her forelegs through the appropriate sleeves with far more speed than her rear legs. Pulling her backwards so that she was now leaning back and resting against him, he made a start on fastening the row of big black buttons that lined the front.
"Ostin" Mixy was finding it hard to bottle up her slight frustration "I can do up buttons myself you know"
Ostin wasn't listening, he was too lost in his concentration "If it bothers you that much you can tie the cord of my dressing gown in return"
"Oh, I'll tie it round your neck alright!" Mixy gritted her teeth.
All the same though, Mixy did have to admit that the thick flannel pyjamas were warm and snug, even if they did nothing to compliment her body. Perhaps they might be of use to her next time they were heavily snowed in.
Ostin finished buttoning up the shirt, hugging Mixy ever so slightly tighter as he rested her head on his shoulder, staring into the embers of the now dying fire. Mixy did the same, resting her head against his and lifting on of her forehooves up to hold one of his. The two of them sat there in silence for a short while.
Ostin unceremoniously broke it "Maybe now you will stop stealing all of the covers when it gets really cold"
Mixy shot him a glare "Seriously? That's what this is all about?!"
Author's Note
Been a while since this was last updated, hasn't it?
Been struggling with my insomnia recently, so I set myself a quick challenge of writing a short 1000 word chapter in the space of 30 minutes based on the image above. Surprisingly, it actually did help exhaust myself to the point where I went straight to sleep. Funny how that works.
Fun Fact: This is the first time I've ever written a chapter straight into FimFiction, not typing it up in Word beforehand.
Also, have an image link for those who want one!
