The twin slices of bread slide down into the steel box, and Aria Blaze releases her grasp on the toaster. Her pale purple arms fold up against her belly, framing her chest for any eyes to see as she waits for her breakfast. Of course, the only eyes around are mine, almost as if she's making a little window just for me—oh, wait, I think I hear Adagio coming in, too. I glance over, just to be sure it's her. Yep, that's Dagi. Her fingers are fiddling a bit with the little red gem suspended above her non-windowed chest. I turn back to my other roommate, though I can still see Adagio rummaging around in the cabinets out of the corner of my eye, and I hear her shuffling foodstuffs around. I sigh a little, pleased that Aria's window is still there.
Aria looks over at me for a second, then follows my gaze down to her chest. Her mulberry globes swivel back to me and narrow to a glare, her arms sliding up to cover the lumps beneath her pale green nightgown. It's a soft nightgown, and really feels nice against my face on cold nights, but only after Aria is asleep so she can't smack me for snuggling. Pushing the fond memories aside, I give Aria a smile and a wave. She just turns back to the toaster with a frown.
Her bare feet bring her closer to the appliance, leaning over it a little. A hand slides up and pushes some of her violet and green hair away from her face, her eyes squinting down into the bread-filled slots. It's been a while since she put the bread in, now, and still no toast has popped out. Her scowl deepens. Aria's left hand reaches out, prodding upward at the little black lever on the side of the shiny box. The dark handle jiggles, but does nothing else. Her brow furrows, pushing harder on the lever. To my surprise, the toast remains inside.
That's when I hear a crackling, like a crinkling bag of chips, only sharper and without any tasty potato chips around. Adagio's head turns ever-so-slightly away from the box of crackers held in one hand. My breath is still as the world begins to slow around me.
Snip snap.
Aria's hand twitching against the smooth countertop.
Pip pop.
Black smoke rising from the glowing slots.
Hiss—bang!
Suddenly, there's a blinding flash of light, accompanied by a shower of sparks from the power outlet, the toaster's blackened plug shooting out of the wall like a tethered bottle rocket. It reaches the end of its cord and whips back, jostling the toaster and almost pulling it from the counter. The lever finally gives way, launching the two slabs of scorched toast clear out of the slots. Aria's arms fly up to shield her face against the explosive spray of sparks and shrapnel. Her loose hair flies back, her usual pigtails and shining silver star barrettes not yet in place this morning. The lights die suddenly, shrouding the apartment in blackness like someone threw a blanket over my head. Only the orange and yellow of the fuse-blowing sparks remain visible, bouncing and splintering against surfaces I can't see anymore.
One of the sparks stops. I blink, wondering if time has slowed so much that it stopped completely. But now I see the little ember grow and change shape, turning from a shard into something more like a glowing wad of gum. Light springs from the growing spot of color. My eyes can barely make out the silky texture of Aria's nightgown around the glow, the fabric tinting from green to orange.
The unmistakable alto of Adagio Dazzle's voice calls out through the darkness, screaming my name. Her tone of dismay is familiar to me. I hear it every time I screw something up (which is a lot). Maybe she thinks I caused the power outage. I'd answer her and say that it wasn't my fault, but my lips won't move. My focus is too much on Aria's nightgown and that glow as it expands.
In an instant, the soft pajamas ignite. An unsteady flame leaps up from the fabric in rapid spurts, like a sprinkler from Hell. The flame steadies as it grows, light pouring off it and into the room.
Through the warm glow, I catch a glimpse of Aria's face. Her eyes are almost shut, still pointing toward the toast-ejecting appliance. Then her eyelids are pulling back in a snap, pupils shrinking as they swivel down to look at her burning dress. The girl's mouth cracks open, and her chest expands as she gasps. A shriek flows from her mouth as the flames flow over her pajamas. One pierces my ears, the other scorches my eyes, and both stick in my heart like a lawn dart.
The fire grows on, it's light filling the kitchen. Though the fire is warm, my body is frozen in place. I can see Dagi, now. Her eyes are wide and her mouth is falling open, her gaze locked on Aria. She turns to me. After a moment, Adagio yells, "Sonata, don't just stand there! Put her out, you idiot!"
But I'm transfixed. I can't turn away from Aria's burning form. I can't tear my gaze from the flames spreading over her nightgown. The blaze itself seems alive, each burning tendril weaving across her and spawning new ones as it roams. The flames are reaching higher, now, flowing over the deliciously-flat chest I'd been admiring earlier. Her slender curves are obscured by the tongues of glowing flame, but I don't mind. I know they're still there. I know them well, each one explored at night on my covert snuggling missions.
Aria has always been beautiful, though she'd usually just insult me when I told her that, and sometimes mess up my hair. Somehow, through the warm glow of the inferno overtaking her, her beauty multiplies ten-fold. Her flailing form flickers on the walls in shadows cast by the fire, like a dancer. A flaming dancer who can't find the rhythm or is maybe dancing to jazz. Her legs wheel under her flaming body, carrying her over the tiled floor. Streaks of fire linger in my vision as she shoots past, her waving arms held above her head.
I can see her, feel Aria as she goes by. By Starswirl's gnarly beard, she's gorgeous. She's a hot, gleaming brilliance flying through the inky blackness and setting a pilot light in my heart. Just like the fiery cloak that engulfs her burning body. She dives into the living room, the rush of air buffeting the flames against her body. For just one moment, she's a sleek, fin-tailed siren once more, breaching the surface of an ocean of fire to grace and enslave a boatload of ponyfolk with her magnificent voice, and my heart soars with her. Then her definitely non-fishy body hits the living room carpet, and the beautiful, brilliantly burning, now-human girl rolls from one side to the other as Adagio races after her with a blanket in her hands.
There'd always been a little birthday candle burning inside me for the fellow siren—a pink candle, I think, with little white swirlies on it. But now that candle has melted into a puddle. Did you know that when you pour water on flaming wax, it explodes? I didn't until last month, but now there's a wax explosion going off in my heart. A towering, eyebrow-singeing fireball of love, and it's all for her. Also, it kinda is her, right now. She's... well, she's...
A wide smile overtakes my face, in spite of the water drenching my hair as the apartment's sprinklers kick on, and I can't help but sigh as my heart candle explodes.
She's blazing.
