My name is Twilight Sparkle.
This is the part of the story where I'm supposed to talk about how I'm just a normal girl, but... let's face it, I'm not. For one thing, I'm a genius. Everyone knows it. My family always supported me ever since I started to read on my own, but I finally proved it to myself when I caught the eye of the most amazing woman ever, Principal Celestia, during a gifted education program's entrance exam. After that she was practically my personal tutor and best friend up until the second year of high school, when I finally had to change schools after some heavy-duty bullying issues. I don't like to talk about it.
Don't get me wrong, I don't have an ego or anything. It's not like I'm the only super-smart girl around, and I'm only eighteen. I've still got a loooooooong way to go. But still, Ponyton Secondary School is almost as nice as Canterlot High, and Principal Mayor is letting me take as many advanced courses as I can get my hands on. (I think theoretical physics is my favorite field; it's practically a form of magic.) Sometimes I still get teased for being a "geek" or a "loner" but it's not as bad as it used to be. Besides, I have friends now. My study group meets twice a week for hot chocolate and some crazy nights of reading. Sure, things have been a little lonely since my brother moved away, but I really don't have anything to complain about. My life is good.
Sometimes I feel like I'm missing something, like there was a whole adventure that I could have gone on if I'd made just one different decision a while ago, but I can't think what it might be. But I'm sure everyone has feelings like that sometimes.
Really. Everything is just fine.
It started just like any other day. Except that wasn't really true, either. Spring was nearly over, and I had just a few weeks left until summer came and my high school life ended for good. I was scrambling around trying to finish my last projects for the year, calculating and recalculating my GPA in my head and trying hard not to think about never seeing Principal Mayor again. My room was a mess of papers and poster boards that I knew I would freak out about trying to clean up later. In the meantime I lay on my bed and tapped away on my computer, putting the final touches on my (frankly, brilliant) thesis on the effects of elemental resonance on higher brain functions. I'm not sure where the idea came from. It just seemed to flow naturally.
I heard padded footsteps outside my door, but didn't really register them until my dog, Spike, pushed his way into my room and looked up at me expectantly. His leash dangled from his mouth, trailing on the ground. "Woof," he told me.
I sighed guiltily. "I'm sorry, Spike," I explained to him. "I know it's past time, but I'm doing really well on this project, and-"
"Woof," he argued. He was surprisingly eloquent for a dog. "Woof. Bark."
"Oh... you're right." I looked back at my computer screen. The words were starting to blur in front of my eyes. "I guess I've been sitting here way too long. My break was scheduled for ten minutes ago." I smiled hopefully at him. "But can I at least-"
"Woof."
"But I-"
"Bark."
"But I'm almost-"
"Bark. Bark. Woof."
I laughed. "All right, fine. You win. A walk would be good for both of us." I got up and stretched, enjoying the feel of flexing after being still for so long, and then leaned down and took the leash from his mouth. "Who's my number one assistant?" I asked playfully, rubbing his head. "It's you!"
He licked my face. Sometimes I think Spike is the only one who understands me.
With a quick call to my mom, the two of us left the house and started down the street. Spike trotted on ahead while I followed, letting my mind drift. It wasn't easy to take my mind off of my work; every second that I spent out here was another when I could be finishing my thesis. After a while, though, I started being able to appreciate the sunshine a little more, and as long as Spike was happy, then I was happy. I'd be able to get back to my work calm, relaxed and refreshed.
I was so focused on making my experience as carefree as possible that it took me nearly ten minutes for me to notice that we weren't going in our usual direction. Instead of heading to the park like he usually did, Spike was leading me north, up the hills and past houses that were starting to look familiar. "Where are we going, boy?" I asked, nervously recalculating the time our trip would take. He didn't answer. His nose was against the ground, sniffing for something that I couldn't detect. All of a sudden, he let out an excited bark and lunged forward, practically dragging me into a run behind him.
Houses flew by in a blur as Spike charged on ahead and I stumbled after, barely able to hold on. It was with a sinking heart that I finally recognized where we were heading; this was the route that I'd used to walk every morning, on my way to Canterlot High. "Spike, I really don't think-" I started, but he barked back at me and kept going.
In another minute we were in front of the school. Spike came to a halt at the base of the familiar statue, sniffing around and looking confused. I just stared at the ground, trying not to take anything in. It was Sunday, so no one was around, but that didn't help my nerves. I didn't like being around here. This was where Sunset Shimmer had... I don't like to talk about it. Why did that girl hate me so much? Why did she make my life a living hell for no reason? It didn't make any sense. She'd put me off the idea of close friends for a long while.
Slowly, though, tiny details started to come to my attention that hadn't been there before. I looked up distractedly, not quite seeing it before it all came together at once. The entire front of the school looked different. Even if the place as it had looked three years ago wasn't burned into my mind, I could see the seams where the colours and lines differed sharply; it was like the whole entrance had been taken apart and put back together. "What...?" I moved forward, Spike now being the one to follow me in confusion. As I rounded the statue, however, something even stranger appeared in front of me.
The plate at the base of the statue, the one facing the school, had been smashed. Jagged cracks ran through the stone, and chunks of it lay scattered on the ground in front. Even stranger, it didn't look like the statue had actually been struck; it was more as if it had been carved that way. I looked back and forth from this to the school, Spike following my gaze in incomprehension. "What?" I said aloud again, as if he might have the answer. Several questions rose up in my mind, each neatly encapsulated in the one thought that conveniently rose next.
What happened here?
"Hey, Twilight!"
The voice seemed to come out of nowhere, or, as I would momentarily discover, around the side of the school. I clutched at Spike's leash and looked around in a panic, almost flinching back when I saw a girl my age walking towards me. She had a hat and was carrying a crate on her shoulder like it weighed nothing; she looked vaguely familiar. "Wasn't expectin' to see you around here," she said once she got close, giving me a smile. "Weren't ya feelin' sick?"
I'm sure I went pale. It was true, I'd just gotten over a bad bug last week, but how did this random girl know that? And why was she... talking to me? "Oh, it's nothing," I laughed nervously, wondering if she'd mistaken me for someone else. "Just... out on a walk. With my dog."
"Good to see. Heya, Spike." She knelt down and, to my increasing horror and confusion, scratched Spike behind his ear in just the way he liked. Never averse to making new friends, he lolled under her touch and panted happily. "Hey, you're gettin' the hang of that," she told him, grinning.
She was now really starting to weird me out. "So, um... Applejack?" I hazarded from the motif on her clothes.
"Yeah?" She straightened up and looked at me a moment, then laughed and gestured to the crate on her shoulder. "Oh, this old thing? Ah know you said not to make a fuss, but me and the girls were gettin' some supplies ready for the party next week, and..." She gasped and smacked her hand against her forehead. "Aw, shoot. Ah wasn't supposed to tell ya that. Well, Ah'm sure you wouldn't have been too surprised anyway. Everyone knows Pinkie's been plannin' your birthday all month."
Mind. Blown. The last part was actually the least surprising - now Pinkie Pie I remembered - but the rest? "You... remembered... my birthday?" I half-mumbled. I'd barely made note of it myself. Outside of my parents, no one else ever had. I made sure that they didn't.
"Well, yeah." She laughed again. "Sure wasn't easy. Pinkie had to spend ages figurin' it out, seein' as she didn't want to just ask. But it's promisin' to be right special."
"But..." I had nothing. This didn't make any sense. "But we hardly know each other. It's been-"
"Aw, don't talk like that." She reached out and put her free hand on my shoulder. I nearly flinched away, but it was the ease, the familiarity, of the gesture that shocked me more than the touch itself. It was like she'd known me all her life. "Sure, there'll always be some distance we can't cross, but you're like family to us. And we never leave family hangin'. Besides, we missed it last year, so we've got a lot of catching up to do."
I just stared. I knew now that she had to be talking about me; what other girl could there possibly be who had my name, looked like me, had an identical dog named Spike and had the same birthday? But that someone could have gone to all this trouble for someone they hadn't seen in over two years... that was almost even more unbelievable. "Th-thank you," I mumbled, tearing up. "You don't know how much this means to me."
"Don't think anythin' of it. Jus' what friends do." She backed up, shouldering her crate again. "Anyways, Ah won't keep you. We were jus' packin' up, and Ah know how much those finals mean to you. Half the gals have left already. Ah'll let 'em know you're feelin' better, all right?" She tipped her hat as she moved away. "See you soon. And see you later, Spike!"
I waved vaguely as I watched her go. She loped back around the school and out of sight. Numbness overtook me. I looked around once again; there were no hidden cameras, no one waiting to jump out and laugh at me. That really happened. Somehow.
I looked down at Spike. He was taking this whole mess in stride, smiling vacantly and scratching behind his ear. "Spike," I asked slowly, "did I get popular and no one told me?"
Before he could answer, I heard another voice calling to me from around the school. "Twilight! Coo-ee!" I turned, bracing myself for a shock, and there was Rarity of all people, Canterlot High's insufferable fashionista, leaning out and waving to me like we were BFFs. And behind her was another girl I didn't know, one with big pink hair that covered half her face, and then stepping out behind them both-
oh my gosh
Flash Sentry
To understand my next reaction requires a bit of history. See, I've never been big on... romance, as you might have guessed. It would be unfair to say that I never had time for boys, although in retrospect that was at least a little bit true. I just never really noticed them, and if any of them ever noticed me, I never found out about it. That's not to say I hadn't imagined things from time to time, of course; who doesn't? It had simply never seemed important.
And then I met Flash Sentry.
I wasn't the only one, of course. About a hundred other girls also fell for him at the same time. He was new, he was charming, he was a star athlete and a rock star, and also undeniably cute. It was only natural for him to become popular. But - and this is going to make me sound like such a shallow fangirl - I don't think there were any other girls who liked him the way I did. From what little I'd seen of him, I knew he had a brain inside that gorgeous body of his, and a good heart, too. On top of that, he seemed so easy to talk to, at a time when Spike was the only one I felt comfortable telling my secrets to. Every girl wanted him. I ached for him.
And then came Sunset Shimmer.
I don't know how she knew; I don't know if she knew. But even though I can't prove it, I've always known, deep down, that she started dating Flash just because she knew I liked him. I never found out how she managed it, either. He'd never seemed to have any interest in her, even after they'd started dating. All I know is she loved to cling to him in front of me, shooting smirks in my direction, as though daring me to give her more material for her taunting sessions. I'd almost hated him for being so easily manipulated. Almost. In the end, I dropped out of second-year astronomy because Flash was in it and I didn't want Sunset Shimmer to think I liked him. Shortly after, I changed schools altogether. As for Flash, I don't think he ever knew I existed.
I got over it. It was just a stupid girlhood crush, more chemical than emotional, the patterns easily identified, and the more I studied it the easier it got to move on. But I never forgot. To me, Flash Sentry had always been that perfect ideal, the thing that I could never live up to, the person Sunset Shimmer had assured me I would never deserve. I still saw his cute face in my memory, sometimes, when I was... um... thinking. And now here he was, after all this time, jogging towards me with a smile.
My first thought, embarrassingly, was that this was a trap. Of course Flash didn't know who I was. If he'd heard of me at all, it was through his girlfriend. That cast a new, sickening light over the whole thing. Sunset Shimmer was behind it all. Obviously no one actually remembered me; it was just her staging the whole thing, getting everyone to fake a party so she could drag me out of hiding and humiliate me. Pain and anger boiled through me from an old wound, threatening to make themselves known again. Was it not enough to drive me out of my own school? Why couldn't that awful girl just leave me alone?
But at the same time, that didn't make sense. Maybe she could convince some of her clique to pull something like this, but someone like Rarity? She might be a stuck-up princess wannabe, but she wasn't evil. Applejack didn't seem like the type to pull a fast one, either. And Pinkie Pie? That girl was incorruptible and didn't care who knew it. If she was involved, there was no way that Sunset Shimmer was behind this. But then that could only mean that... that...
Long story short, all this flashed back and forth in my mind so many times that it was only when Flash Sentry finally reached my position near the statue that I noticed that instead of waving back or smiling like a normal person, all I'd been doing was gaping at him with my mouth hanging open. I quickly shut it and blushed deeply, inwardly moaning. My first second of this dream come true and already I wanted to sink into the ground.
He paused a second for breath, then said the last thing I'd expected to hear coming out of his mouth. "Hey babe."
I'd thought that I was already as shocked as it was possible for me to get that day. Turns out I could get one step higher after all. "Babe?" I echoed, feeling like I was floating.
And then...
This was the moment that I knew for certain that this had to be a dream, or a trick, or some unbelievably contrived misunderstanding. It was also the moment I stopped caring. He leaned down and kissed me on the lips.
My whole world became a field of white. In the distance, I heard Rarity giggling and ducking back behind the school. I must have reverted to my pale, stunned-tuna face, because Flash immediately started to look worried and pulled away. "Is something wrong?" he asked. He clasped a hand to his face. "Oh, I'm so sorry. You're still sick, aren't you?"
I stared back with dull eyes. How could I explain to him that that was my first kiss, that I had dreamed of it being my first kiss since the start of high school, that it had gone by so fast that even now I wasn't even sure that I'd felt it? It stopped mattering. Let Sunset Shimmer do to me what she wants; it didn't matter so long as I got to feel that kiss again. "No, no, it's... nothing," I fibbed, putting on a smile. "I just wasn't expecting to see you, that's all."
"That's a relief." He smiled again. "Look, I can't stay long, but if Pinkie Pie asks-"
"I know, Applejack filled me in," I interrupted. For once, butting in didn't feel unnatural. He didn't seem to mind, like he'd been expecting it. Like he'd been made for me. "If it's you guys in charge, I know I'll be surprised no matter what," I said truthfully.
"Great." I couldn't get enough of his smile. "And, hey, um..." The most adorable blush came to his cheeks. "My parents are out of town this week, so, if you're up to it, if you want to stop by my place around seven or eight, I've got a... special surprise for you. A kind of early birthday present." My mind must have gone blank again, because he added another "If you want," after a few seconds.
Another awkward pause, another chance for all this to collapse around me. Say something! my subconscious screamed, kicking me in the back of the brain. Instantly, my smile returned. "I'd love that," I answered. "I'll... see you then?"
He looked relieved. "See you then."
He started to move away. "Flash, wait," I found myself saying. He hesitated, and I hesitated too; maybe that kick had pushed me on more than I'd thought. Like I was being pulled on strings, I extended my arms, wrapped them around his neck, then pulled myself up and pressed my lips against his.
Later I might say that I just wanted to see what he would do, or that it was just the heat of the moment, but the truth is that I kissed him because I could. He was there, and I wanted this, and I might never have this chance again, and oh McCarthy he kissed like a god. For a moment it was just me, and then he moved too, and our lips and mouths flowed together like heavenly nectars. All other sensation left me and I was left floating and clinging to his sculpted body, fully falling into a dreamlike state as for those few, sweet seconds I made out with the boy of my dreams. "Mmm," I heard as he parted from me, smiling even more sweetly and - dare I think it? - seductively. "Save that for tonight, okay princess?" he whispered. And then he was gone.
As soon as his back was turned I collapsed against the statue, weak at the knees. I'd always thought that was a myth. I returned his last wave, only then noticing that he was jogging towards a pickup truck that had pulled up at the end of the street. The three girls I'd seen that day were gathered around it, all of them covering their mouths and obviously giggling. I went perhaps the deepest shade of red I'd ever been, only then finally noticing that my heart was pounding like a jackhammer. No wonder I'd been so light-headed. I wondered if Flash had noticed.
Spike jumped impatiently at me, having gotten tired of standing around. I sat down at the base of the statue and picked him up, his reassuring weight snapping me back to reality. The full implications of what had just happened were only starting to sink in. "Oh, Spike," I mumbled, "what am I going to do?"
Whatever happened next, it was pretty obvious that I wouldn't be finishing my thesis that night.
It's hard to remember how the rest of the day went. I could have floated home on clouds for all I know. What I do know is that no more work got done that afternoon. I did try, because it was on the schedule and if there's one thing I'm good at, it's sticking to schedules, but my thoughts were too scattered to bring anything together. Spike, sensing my mood, left me alone to ponder in my frustration. Veins of infatuation and confusion clashed inside me, until I was forced to devote all my mental faculties to solving the question that had been looming over me all day.
What the heck was going on?
Methodically, in the way that only I can, I put the facts into place. Somehow, Applejack knew who I was. Based on their reactions, the others seemed to, too. They knew me well enough to know that my grades were important to me, that I'd been bedridden lately, that my birthday was coming up soon. Still possible for a sufficiently devoted stalker, although I couldn't imagine any of them fitting the bill. Applejack had also seemed perfectly comfortable around Spike, but again, not out of the question. Something told me she was a dog person. And Flash... well, it wasn't exactly a secret that I used to have a crush on him. If you'd picked any girl my age who'd gone to Canterlot High, he would have been a fairly safe bet.
But the kiss.
If this was fake, he would have pushed me down. Or he would have stayed rock-still, just counting the seconds down until this crazy girl left him alone. He might have called me weird, or sick, or just dumb to think that I could do that and get away with it. But he didn't. He liked it. Like it was normal. Like we'd done it before. Somehow, unless he was the exact opposite of everything I'd ever believed him to be... Flash Sentry was into me. And yet I knew next to nothing about him, or about any of these people who acted like they were my friends.
All their faces flashed in front of me as I sat cross-legged on my bed, furiously chewing my lip. It was as if, without my knowledge, there was this other me out there, an exact replica, one who had everything that I'd always secretly wanted from life; caring friends, a place at Canterlot High, the boyfriend that other girls would kill to have. And I, completely by accident, had stumbled onto her secret life and tricked them into thinking that I was the one they knew. It was almost as if... but no. It couldn't be. Could it?
Was there...
Was I...
Was I dating Flash Sentry in my sleep!?
I had to laugh at the absurdity of that revelation. That couldn't possibly be the case. It was just like that movie... what was it called? Oh, right, Punch Club. Some silly thing that my parents kept in their secret stash of films that I wasn't supposed to know about. That was about someone who created a subconscious version of himself to live his life as he wanted it to be, while the real version drifted into the background and slowly disappeared. But of course, that was just a movie, and if it happened in a movie then it couldn't possibly be real. Everyone knows that. Right?
Yet the thought stuck with me. It was the only thing that made sense. No, wait! I cried internally, lifting a finger triumphantly into the air. I have proof! My schedules! How could I possibly be living a secret double life when I've been following my schedule down to the letter ever since... My finger dropped. Ever since...
I looked around.
All around my room, my schedule hung over me. Across every wall, pressed so long it was practically part of the paint, the coloured grid surrounded me in an unbroken line, looping up and around my door. I followed it with my half-raised finger, mumbling numbing phrases to myself. From Pre-Breakfast Textbook 1 to Weekly Review 52, every day, every hour of my life had been plotted out in these never-ending loops for the past four years. My defense against taunting, my armour to ensure that I would never open myself up to attack again. I'd been lying to myself; I only had friends because they were penciled in on Tuesdays and Thursdays. For all my study groups and long walks and forced periods of relaxation, I'd never allotted myself any time to live.
How many loops? How many measured weeks had gone by, always the same, one merging right into the next? I tried to think back. I tried to close my eyes and count, all the way back, without looking at the schedule. I couldn't do it. They were all the same, bland and interchangeable, all the knowledge I'd compiled in that time bouncing around in my head unattached to anything. I tried to remember what I'd had for dinner last night. No dice there.
I felt a chill. Was I... losing time? Whole days or weeks simply dropping away from my life, unnoticed among the bland mass that I'd created around myself? I didn't have anyone to tell me. If I disappeared for a few hours one day, I didn't have any friends who would notice. So much of my research was extracurricular that I could probably skip whole days of school without suffering; my recent bout with the flu had proved that. I wrapped my arms around myself. Would I even know what day it was if I didn't have my calendar to tell me?
"Stay calm, Twilight," I told myself, refusing to start rocking back and forth. "Stay calm." My imagination wasn't so cooperative. Suppose one day Sunset Shimmer had hurt me so bad, with something I might not even remember - although one incident sprung to mind - that out of sheer desperation I'd imagined up an alternate version of myself to live all my fantasies for me? Someone who could make friends, who could talk to boys, who could put Sunset Shimmer in her place once and for all? Was it even possible that I had all that potential inside me? "Yeah, and why don't I give her magic powers, too?" I joked, trying to lighten my mood.
And yet... even if I was just being paranoid, if this "other me", who or whatever she was, had all this... then where did that leave me?
Hey. My subconscious poked at the back of my mind again. So are you going to his house or not?
I looked around again, at the endless, empty cycles that I'd left behind me, and the endless, empty cycles that still lay ahead, and I made my choice.
Dinner was uncomfortable. I sat facing the empty spot where my brother used to be, just picking at my food. My parents paid no attention to me; between them, their days had had almost as much excitement as mine, and they were content to laugh about it freely. I ate just enough to keep my stomach quiet - it was already feeling like it was tightening into a knot - and then made my move.
"Um, mom?" I interrupted, in the middle of one of my mother's usual guffaws. It never felt natural when I spoke up in the middle of a conversation; it was like there was some natural turn order to speaking that I wasn't privy to, so I always ended up talking over someone else. I hadn't felt that with Flash. It had felt good. "There's been a change in my study group, so... is it okay if I go out tonight?"
They both looked me over thoughtfully, but it was my dad who spoke first. "Tonight? And this late?"
"Yeah," I quickly lied. "I know it's sudden, but Colgate just found out that she has a dental appointment on Tuesday, so she was hoping we could move it to tonight." I was banking on two things: the fact that I was a terrible liar, and the fact that my parents knew that. I'd never had any reason to tell them an untruth before, so they wouldn't have any reason to inspect or interrogate me. Why would a good girl like me lie?
My mom's lip trembled. "But it's game night," she said, sounding hurt.
"Now, now," my dad soothed, waving his fork in the air. "Our little Twilight hasn't gotten herself this far without taking her studying very seriously. If this is important to her, we should respect that. This is important to you, right, Twilight?"
A pit opened up in the bottom of my stomach. "It is," I confirmed, though not for the reasons he believed.
"Well... all right," my mother relented. "Just be back at a reasonable hour this time, all right?"
"I'll try," I promised, and my heart sank further. I wondered if they'd have been so trusting if they knew that their precious little Twilight was sneaking out to go to a boy's house. Then I remembered my thoughts upstairs and felt embarrassed. Was it normal for eighteen-year-olds to worry this much about what their parents think?
I bet the Other Me doesn't worry about this sort of thing, I grumbled to myself. She probably just goes out and hangs out with her friends whenever she feels like it. I snorted inwardly. Besides, it's not like Flash and I are...
My mind hit a wall.
"...Anyways, I should start getting ready," I said quickly, accidentally bumping the chair as I stood up. "I need to... um... get my things. See you!" Then I ran upstairs and locked myself in the bathroom, leaving my half-eaten dinner behind.
The lights were off. I stared at my wide-eyed reflection in the near-darkness, my chest heaving. I could feel my whole body shaking. A kind of nauseating fear dropped through my stomach and met a wild, electric tingle from somewhere further below, pulsing in my middle in quakes that I could only compare to the worst of my pre-exam jitters.
Had Flash Sentry been talking about doing... that?
My brain rebelled. Of course he hadn't meant it. I was sure that his "special surprise" was just, like... a bracelet, or something. That he had to give me at his house. At night. Alone. And the fact that he seemed totally okay with me putting my tongue in his mouth had absolutely nothing to do with it.
And as for me, well... I would be lying if I said that sitting in Flash Sentry's room and making out had been the only thing on my mind. In quiet, secret places, I'd been giving shape to possibilities that my conscious self didn't dare put form to. And I mean yes, ostensibly I'd decided long ago that if I ever did... do it... it would be with someone I'd married, or was sure I was going to marry, or... something. And sure, maybe... once or twice... I'd explored myself in the dark, summoning shapeless reflections in my mind and thinking about how it would feel to be joined with someone else, but that didn't mean that I would ever really, seriously...
Oh my gosh. I wrapped my arms around my middle. I'm not... I'm not actually considering it, am I?
I shook the thoughts off. No. No matter what any Other Me has done to him, as far as I'm concerned he's just a cute boy I used to know. And when I go to his house, that's what I'm going to tell him. I started moving again. And now I'm going to take a shower for no other reason than because it's on my schedule.
Maybe I'm better at lying to myself than I thought.
The lights went on, as did the water. A loose seal made the shower whistle at me as I undressed. Even though I tried not to, I found myself taking glances at myself in the fogging mirror, this time with new eyes. By the end, I had to tear myself away from the looking glass and closed my eyes as I stepped under the steaming water. It would never work out, anyway, I decided. What would Flash Sentry ever see in someone like me?
My bathing was methodical, as with the rest of my life. My hair was first, as always. I didn't really like to keep it as long as I did, but I figured that learning to live with it grown out would result in fewer trips to the hairdresser and greater efficiency overall. The stripes were natural, from my mother's side, and it was only in the past year that I'd gotten comfortable enough to stop dying them the same colour as the rest. Then it was down to my face, scrubbing in carefully regulated motions. I've never been used to my face. It didn't seem much good for anything other than making goofy expressions, and that's just so unlike me.
Being naked was not helping. Now that my brain was on this track, it was hard to stop as I descended, running my soapy washcloth across overly-thin shoulders. I could feel a flock of imaginary eyes circling me, scrutinizing my various flaws, every way that I was unsuitable as a match for Flash. My arms were practically twigs, unused to lifting anything larger than a textbook or three. I had to stop for a second when I reached my chest, pausing to let the criticisms rain down. Yes, there was a satisfying softness under my hand, but now that my bra was off it was even more obvious than usual that I didn't really have anything going on there. Not that I was alone in that; for some reason no one in this town seemed able to get a proper bust going until they were in their thirties.
But Flash Sentry had kissed me anyway.
The heat seemed to increase as I moved downward, even though I always set the dial to a very specific temperature. I found myself skipping over my navel, running unfamiliar patterns down my light purple skin that sent little tingles through me. Unavoidably, my thoughts were wrenched back to Flash. Even putting the kiss aside (no small task) it was starting to dawn on me that that was the closest I'd ever been to a boy, or to anyone really, friendly cuddles with my brother aside. After years of barely any physical contact, the feel of someone else's torso touching mine was practically burning itself into my flesh. Him touching me. Holding me. Kissing me.
Wanting me.
Why?
Both arms were now in motion, one still washing its way around my too-frail hips, the other wrapping around my torso, trying to recreate the feel of that touch. My lips strained against empty air, my brain on fire as it tried to process this one thought. Me wanting him, that was just a given, but out of all the girls he could have chosen, Flash Sentry wanted... me? Why would he... why would anyone...
A jolt shot though my core, and I let out a small gasp. My scrubbing hand had reached the space between my legs. Instead of the unremarkable once-over that I usually gave myself down there, the soapy cloth passed over fully-engorged lips. I froze that way, waves of crackling heat radiating through me. I could almost believe I could feel my pulse pounding through my vulva. I hadn't realized that thinking of being close to Flash had turned me on this much. I should hurry, I thought vaguely to myself, noting the list of things that still needed to be done. It took a while to shave my long legs, which was something that I'd picked up in high school and was secretly terrified to ever stop doing. Flash will be expecting me, and I'm already way behind schedule, and...
I moved my hand again, and the thoughts stopped. Up and down, stroking myself, gradually slipping away from the facade of washing, a tuft of hair tickling at my wrist. In moments, tingling pleasure gave way to an inner, aching need like nothing I'd ever felt before. It wasn't that I had no experience with this - I mean, sometimes, you know, after a bad day, maybe once or twice a month at most - but this thought of being wanted, being needed, magnified everything so much more. And even though objectively I could pin down exactly what was going on, that I was giving myself clitoral stimulation to set off a chemical reaction in my brain, for once in my life that ceased to matter. I wasn't just having it off with empty shadows any more. I had a partner. I had Flash.
Both my sets of fingers tightened. My free arm clutched at my back and shoulder as I recreated that kiss over and over, leaning back into the stream of the water to take gasping breaths. The thin blanket of the washcloth became more of a lump, pressing harder and further into my hidden folds. More rapid pulses of pleasure echoed through me with every swipe. My knees bent and I found myself unconsciously moving my hips, grinding into my own hand, the motions getting faster and building until I could practically see lights behind my eyes, and then-
"Twilight!" My mom hammered on the door. "Do you want to take some snacks with you? There's a spare bag of chips that we were saving for tonight!"
My knees went weak and I buckled downward. All focus lost, I covered my mouth with my hand and silently screamed into it, riding on nothing more than the watery pop of an utterly ruined orgasm. "No thanks!" I trilled once I'd more or less caught my breath, still feeling unfulfilling waves shooting through me. Then I waited until I was certain she'd moved away before lifting myself up.
It was hard to start moving again. My body fought against itself, still aching, still yearning for another kiss from that phantasmal Flash. I knew from experience, though, - look, just some, okay, I'm sure every girl does it at least once, sheesh - that if I tried to start from scratch I would definitely be late. My hands unclenched and I pulled the cloth away, damp with what was definitely more than just water, then scrubbed myself a few more times down there just for good measure. As I did, I felt an itch against my wrist again and looked down. For what felt like the first time, I became fully aware of my pubic hair, the rounded mound of purple fluff slightly flattened down by the water.
It's fine, I told myself. It's not going to matter. Nothing is going to happen tonight, no matter how cute Flash Sentry is. He won't be seeing anything. I'll just shave my legs, and then I'm just going to go to his place, tell him there's been a misunderstanding, and then leave. I hung up my washcloth and reached out to the rack beside me. And that's all.
I picked up my razor, looked down, and gulped.
Okay, fine. Once a week, every wednesday at ten, marked on my schedule as "Textbook Review 2". And I usually think of Flash.
Finding Flash Sentry's house was an adventure all to itself. Ten minutes before dinner I'd had a panicked realization that I didn't actually know where he lived, so I'd had to quickly look up his address and then trace out the route on an outdated map pinned to my wall. After my... escapade in the shower, I'd barely had time to review my directions before setting off, and had spent the entire twenty-minute bike ride there in constant terror of taking a wrong turn and winding up hopelessly lost. In the end, though, I made it with one minute to spare, albeit out of breath and a little sweaty.
I left my bike and helmet against the fence and took tentative steps up the driveway. I triple-checked the street and house number, even though there was no need; if the basketball net with Flash Sentry's crest on it didn't give it away, the guitar music blaring from an upstairs window did. At first I thought someone had left a radio on until I heard Flash pause to fix a mistake. It sounded like he'd only gotten better since the last time I heard him play.
Getting up to the door took guts. I stood there for a short while, under the guise of catching my breath, while trying to think of what was supposed to come next. Do I knock? I wondered. Do I just walk in? What's the girlfriend thing to do? I immediately reprimanded myself. I'm not his girlfriend. This is obviously some sort of misunderstanding. And that's what I'm going to tell him. Still, I just stood there.
The truth was, it wasn't just pre-date jitters that had me pausing. Deep down, I was terrified. Nothing about this, or what I was doing, made any sense. After years of my meticulously regulated life, branching out like this was akin to confronting my fear of heights by leaping down an elevator shaft. Facing this situation left me with only two options: either I was completely, provably, card-carryingly insane, or this whole thing was just an elaborate trap set by Sunset Shimmer. I didn't know which outcome terrified me more.
The thing was, I knew that she could do it. After the Unspeakable Incident, I knew that there were absolutely no lengths Sunset Shimmer wouldn't go if it meant hurting me. Nothing was beneath her, and nothing was beyond her. The more I thought about it, the more this seemed like exactly the kind of thing that she would pull. It would have taken spying, stalking, maybe stealing, a heap of good luck and blackmail material on some of the best people this town had ever seen... but she could still do it. She might be behind a sign right now, or waiting for me inside, just bracing herself to rip this fantasy out from under me. Because now that I had my life together, now that I'd finally escaped her, what would break my spirit more than having her prove that I'm so shallow, lonely and pathetic that I would give up everything just for the chance that a boy might kiss me again?
I proved her right and rang the doorbell.
The music upstairs stopped, and twenty-nine seconds later Flash Sentry opened the door. He'd taken off his jacket, leaving him in just a t-shirt, and I couldn't help but stare a little as I realized this was the first time I'd seen him without it. He smiled, looking puzzled. "Did I leave the back door locked?"
Caught in my lie in the first second. Great job, me. "Uh, no," I hazarded, grinning and hating myself. "I just... thought I'd come in this way for once." Maybe he could tell that I was nervous, but he didn't say anything, just backed up and invited me into his home.
The house didn't seem like anything special. Beige walls, standard furniture, the usual smell of an unfamiliar living space. I tried to pretend I wasn't seeing it for the first time. Flash's gaze moved to a clock on the wall, and I followed it; it was seven on the dot. "Punctual as always, princess," he joked. Again with the princess thing. He sounded like he didn't mean anything by it, but I found it just the teeniest bit condescending. I didn't say anything.
By now my uncomfortableness was starting to spread. I stood awkwardly while Flash searched my face. "Do you want something to drink?" he asked, trying to keep up the mood. "I've been saving some grape juice."
That broke the spell; I was back from terrified to simply being weirded out. How could he know that grape juice was my favorite when I'd only recently decided that myself? "I'd love that," I answered, releasing my breath and putting on my first genuine smile of the evening. "It was a long ride here."
He nodded, relieved. "All right. Feel free to head upstairs; I'll get the drinks." Then he wandered off, leaving me stunned.
Did a boy just invite me up to his bedroom?
I practically floated up the stairs. Here the house was showing a little more of Flash's influence; there was a loft where several instruments had been set up, along with a clutter of speakers and other equipment. I looked around, trying to guess which door was Flash's, and opened one to a bathroom, then quickly shut it in embarrassment. I felt like a ghost, moving through rooms that didn't belong to me.
My second guess led me into the right room. I peered inside, flipping on a light, and stopped cold. The place looked much like I'd always believed boys' rooms to be: clothes on the floor, bed unmade, clutter on his bed and dresser. It was painted in his colours and smelled like him, too. A guitar was propped up in one corner, music sheets spilling off the desk beside it. Music and sports paraphenalia fought for space across the whole thing, taking up every corner and working their way up the walls. That was the part that made me stop. Because taking up the middle spot on the wall opposite the door, right above his desk, was a poster of me.
I couldn't even feel shocked. I'd gone fully into living in a dream. I drifted forward, taking the image in. I wasn't the only one in it; there was Applejack, and Rarity, and Pinkie Pie, and that girl with the pink hair that I'd seen earlier, and one other covered in rainbows who I didn't recognize at all, all playing different instruments. I was front and center, holding a microphone and wearing a sparkly dress, with the biggest smile on my face. All I could do was blink. I'm in a rock band?
Other details started to claw for my attention. I looked over to the dresser, feeling numb. Stacked among the assorted clutter were small, framed pictures of me. No... pictures of us. There was me and Flash at a mall somewhere; me and Flash on a stage, rehearsing something with instruments; me and Flash at the beach, cuddling and making faces for the camera. Not any of Sunset Shimmer's photo manipulations, which I'd learned to recognize, but real pictures, taken in poses I knew I'd never made. This wasn't just one afternoon of trickery. Flash and I had lived a life together.
I found one picture, near the middle, of me on my own. I was at some kind of dance, dressed up in what looked like ridiculous fake cat ears and wings, dancing... as only I could. I took it and sat down on the edge of the bed, starting to feel faint, staring as this grotesque Other Me lived something that I would never in my life be brave enough to do. How... how long has this been going on? I asked silently. How many nights has this... thing stolen out of my life?
No wonder my grades were slipping. I'd been stuck in a mid-90s rut for months.
I needed to get out of here. I needed research, stat. If this was an identifiable disorder, I needed a name for it, I needed to know when it had started, and I needed to know how to make it stop. Whoever this Other Me was, she'd stolen this ridiculously, cartoonishly perfect life right from under my nose, when a real guardian would help me to find it on my own. The person in these pictures wasn't the real Twilight. I was. She had no right to take my place.
Except the real Twilight wasn't a rock star. The real Twilight wouldn't have a school-wide party thrown just for her. The real Twilight wouldn't have friends at all. And the real Twilight wouldn't have Flash Sentry for a boyfriend.
Maybe it was the real Twilight who didn't deserve to exist.
"In here? Okay," I heard as Flash entered the room. He passed me a glass of grape juice, keeping one of water for himself. Our fingers touched as I accepted it. He looked down at the picture in my other hand. "That was one crazy night, huh?" he said, settling down on the chair in front of his desk.
"...Yeah." I looked down at it again. The Other Me looked so happy.
"Hey, are you sure you're feeling all right?" He leaned forward. "You're looking a little pale."
I'm surprised that pale was all I looked. I felt like I was going to throw up. Looking up at those big, gorgeous eyes, though, I knew that I couldn't leave him now. I would not let the Other Me take this chance away from me again. "It's nothing," I lied, looking away. "Just the ride over here, I guess. I should take it easy." I took a sip of juice. It wasn't much, but the taste of something familiar did settle my stomach. Quickly, I grasped for a change of topic. "What was that song you were practicing earlier?"
"Oh... that." He blushed, scratching the back of his head. "That's just... something I've been working on. You don't wanna hear that."
"No, I do." I leaned forward, looking eager, playing the girlfriend. I can do this. "What's it about? Is it about me?"
"Um..." To my delight, his blush deepened. "Um... okay, don't tell anyone I told you this, but it's something I'm going to be performing at your party. So you're not allowed to hear it just yet. Just wait a few more days, okay?"
"Oh, all right." I fake-sighed, taking a longer drink to cover a blush of my own. A song from Flash Sentry almost felt like too much. "Can I at least get a preview?" I teased.
"Well..." His hand covered a clump of pages on the desk behind him. When my eyes immediately followed, though, he relented and passed them over with a smile. "I know it's kinda corny," he said, reaching over and picking up his guitar. "Just remember it's a work in progress, okay?"
I put the juice and picture on his nightstand and focused my attention on the pages. "'The Twilight of my Life'?" I quoted, giggling while girlish glee did squealing cartwheels through my brain. "That doesn't sound like a compliment."
"It is, though." He did a few experimental strums. "Let's face it, you are something pretty special."
"Aw, stop it." I hid behind the pages and scanned the first few verses. He was right about it being corny, and maybe a little childish in places, but it was cute and had a sort of genuine sweetness to it. I could teach him a thing or two about syntax, though. "Is it going to be just you onstage?" I asked.
"As if." He laughed. "Cmon Twilight, you know I can't sing. I've got Sunset Shimmer working on the vocals."
My heart dropped. "Oh."
He finished his tuning, then froze and put his face into his hands. "Ah, shoot. That was supposed to be a surprise too. I'm giving everything away today, aren't I?"
"It's... fine." My cold gaze fell to the page. The words didn't seem as sweet any more. I cleared my throat as he made to start playing again. "Did she put you up to this?"
"Huh?" He looked up at me, fingers poised over the strings.
"Her." I refused to say her name aloud. "Was this her idea?"
"No?" He sounded more confused than anything. "Pinkie Pie's been planning this for months. We couldn't stop her if we tried. Sunset Shimmer practically had to beg to get involved. She's been wanting to make things up to you for years." He hesitated. "That's... okay, right?"
"Fine." It wasn't fine. I didn't actually know what to make of this at all, but fine was the one thing it wasn't. Maybe the Other Me had put Sunset Shimmer in her place after all. But even if by some miracle this wasn't another trap to humiliate me, she should have known that it wouldn't be enough. Nothing she could do would ever make up for the Unspeakable Incident.
Flash strummed again, and very nearly managed to start this time before letting out a sigh. "It's not fine, is it?" I said nothing. "You've got that look." He drew a circle in the air around my face. "That look you get when something's bothering you, but you don't want anyone to know that something's bothering you because you don't want to spoil the mood. I can tell." I had to give him that. Under most circumstances I didn't think of myself as having facial expressions, let alone readable ones. It was around then that I realized I'd been crinkling the edges of the pages with my hands.
He looked at the picture of me dancing again. I don't know why. Maybe to remind him of happier times. "You've been thinking about it again, haven't you?" he said. "I know the anniversary's coming up."
My birthday. The anniversary of the Unspeakable Incident. The reason I refused to acknowledge the former any more. "Flash, I..." I bit back my words. How could I explain to him my dilemma? If I told him of my true fears, then one way or another, this chance would be snatched away from me. After giving me this taste, I couldn't let myself be cast out on my own again. I couldn't. Not after she hurt me the first time. "Flash, whatever you think she's trying to do, she isn't," I growled. Fury eked out from within me. "It's a trick. It always is. If you let her sing, she'll just find a way to make a fool out of me again. I know it."
"But... she's changed now. We all saw it. Don't you trust her?"
"Trust her?" I shouted. "She ruined my life!" I stood up and threw the pages at him. "But since when have you cared? You're her boyf-"
I stopped dead, covering my mouth with my hands. His face said it all. This sweet, pretty boy, who I had only ever seen smiling, looked like all my years of sadness had landed on him at once. "So." He couldn't meet my gaze. "You still think about that, huh."
"No." He turned away and I started to panic. "No, Flash, I didn't mean..."
He was just putting away his guitar. Once it was in its stand, he turned to me and stood up as well. "Twilight, the day I realized how manipulative Sunset Shimmer was was the second-best day of my life. The best was the day I met you. And even now that she's reformed, that's not going to change." He was still looking down. I couldn't believe it. "And... I know she can't make up for what she did," he continued. "No one can. Not even me. Every time I pass that statue, I get reminded that I can't replace the people she took from you."
The first part didn't make much sense, but the second made me choke on air. Quick slashes of people flashed before my eyes, my brother's screaming face lasting the longest. "But I'm here," Flash said. "And even if I can't fix things, I just wanted to remind you that... that people care about you. That I care about you. And crown or no crown, you're still a princess to me."
What was it with him and princesses? Was this about Canterlot High's crowning ceremonies or something? Maybe it would have made more sense if I still went there. Flash looked up at me shyly. He started to reach out to me, hesitantly, like he was afraid that I would move away. Like there was any chance of that happening. I leaned forward and let him embrace me, then clung to him as tightly as I could. Years of paper barriers were stripped away as I felt something that I'd assured myself time and time again would never happen. Flash Sentry likes me. He cares about me. He wants me to be okay.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his breath tickling my ear. "I messed up. You don't have to see her again."
I wanted to answer "I'm sorry." Instead I just buried my face in his shoulder. "I hate her so much," I mumbled back, hearing my voice break.
Tears were building up in my eyes. Crying's not on the schedule, I reminded myself out of habit. Then I pressed myself against him and started to bawl.
He didn't ask me what was wrong. Live through years of hell and maybe you'll understand how important that is. I'd tried guidance counselors, a couple of study friends, even my parents, and it had always gone the same way; they'd all refused to offer help until I could explain what the matter was. Even Spike just got confused and uncomfortable when I was in a bad state. No one had ever just let me hold them and cry before. We just stood there, in the middle of his room, as I finally let everything out; the loss, the betrayal, the pain of never seeing my brother again, all flowed out in tears and undignified sobs. He just took it all, straight as a pillar, supporting me as I leaned into him.
I wasn't sure how we made it onto the bed. Maybe I sat down, or maybe he sat me down, or maybe we both moved together, without the need for one to lead. One way or another, we wound up sitting side by side on the mattress' edge, him with his arms around me, me still clinging to his shoulder. What I do know is that I was the one who pulled us the rest of the way down. By inches and degrees we fell, him putting up no resistance, until he was down on his back. We took a moment to adjust ourselves, me half on top of him with my head beneath his chin. He knew just how to cradle me, and I felt safe there, more than I'd ever been in my schedule's embrace. Maybe we'd done this before. Right then, I was fine with not remembering. It was enough to lose myself. All I wanted was to forget.
The next time my head moved, the sun had set. I wasn't too concerned with the time; in the past, if one of the other girls was struggling, I'd come back from study sessions well after midnight. Reacting to my shifting, Flash Sentry stroked my back. I looked up at him, my face streaked and my eyes crusty. "Thank you," I whispered.
He smiled back, his fingers curling ringlets in my hair. "You're beautiful," he answered.
"No I'm not." I made a snorting noise as I sniffed through clogged sinuses. "I'm a mess."
"No, Twilight. If someone else was in your shoes, they would be a mess. I would be a mess. You're the least crazy person I've ever met." I guess he didn't understand why that made me laugh. "You've been through so much, and it's always been... I don't know, inspirational to see you keep going. You're my guiding star, and..." He paused for a little too long for ordinary sweet-talk. "And I love you, Twilight."
It wasn't a shock; I'd assumed as much when he let me cry on him for an hour. Hearing him say it, though, set loose all kinds of things inside me. My jaw flapped loosely through a response, but the coiling of my body against his told him all he needed to know. "Flash," I breathed, drawing my face closer to his. I saw his eyes half-close, and I think he was about to lean forward and kiss me if I hadn't done the same thing first.
There are only so many ways to describe a good kiss. Fortunately, ours was most of them. We quickly found a pattern as our lips moved together, passing feelings and, it seemed, even thoughts through this moist contact. Minutes went by of nothing but sweetness. Twice I pulled momentarily away, rubbing my eyes and wiping my nose snottily on my sleeve, then we would share a laugh and I would dive back in. Daringly, my tongue slipped out, only to find - oh? - that his was doing the same, meeting and caressing me halfway. It was electric. It was magical. It was hot. I couldn't feel bad about it. It's not like either of us was cheating. He was my boyfriend.
We stayed that way for maybe half an hour, sometimes simply running our lips together, sometimes full-on making out. Mostly the latter. I generally kept my eyes closed, losing myself in bliss. During this time, I started to move other parts of my body as well. While my left arm was pinned under Flash's back, my right hand traced its way up to his face, brushing his cheek as we kissed, and then slowly, in fits and starts, started to slide downwards. Hesitating every half-inch, afraid that he would stop me or move my hand away, I pressed my palm against his chest, feeling him through his shirt. At the same time my leg slid across him, until I was practically straddling him from the side.
Our embrace complete, I shivered as I realized Flash was moving his hand as well, stroking his fingers in rhythmic patterns down my spine. Spurred on, I pressed harder and started to explore his surface more thoroughly. His muscles weren't exactly rock-hard - I'd convinced myself that the sculpted abs I'd seen in magazines and movies didn't exist outside of them - but he was tough and lean and filled me with tingles as I pressed myself against his solid frame. Before I knew it, I had reached the bottom of his shirt. My pulse quickening, more than ever fearing a reprimand, I slipped my fingers beneath the flap of his clothes and delicately touched his bare stomach.
Suddenly, another shock; without warning, Flash moved his own arm down and put his hand on my butt. My eyes opened and I gasped, pulling away from his face. Immediately, he let go of me. We blinked at each other, and I realized that what I saw in his face was the exact same fear that had been possessing me. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered. "I thought you were..."
Without answering, I grabbed his arm and slapped it back down over my skirt, then shoved my whole arm under his shirt and mashed my lips against his. He obediently began to squeeze my softer flesh and I did the same to his chest, feeling his quickening pulse match my own. Fear bled out of me, leaving nothing but heat. Suddenly, these thin fabric barriers between us were too much distance. I needed to be closer to him, closer, touching, warm, together. Carrying on in my motion, I lifted myself away again and pulled further at his shirt, fumblingly drawing it up. Seeing my intent, Flash sat up and pulled the garment over his head, dropping it carelessly to the floor beside us. When we resumed our horizontal positions, me roaming hungrily over his exposed skin, his hand returned to its place on my body as well... this time under my skirt.
We were both starting to breathe heavily, periodically interrupting our making out. As his fingers drew lines across the gentle curves of my butt and teased the edges of my panties, the heat between us became too much to bear. No longer thinking about what I was doing, I reached down, even further than before, touching the upper rim of Flash's jeans. My trembling fingers scrabbled at the top buckle for a second before giving up and diving below his waistband. I squeezed past the elastic barrier of what I assumed were boxer shorts, and then grasped at something that actually was rock-hard.
Flash released a delicious moan into my mouth. I grinned and stretched further, encircling a meaty shaft that only grew larger as I caressed its length. Struggling to move in the increasingly confined space, I twisted my hand up and down, feeling a pulse of pleasure at the reaction this produced. A second later, I felt another, entirely different jolt as Flash pushed his own roaming hand down as well, passing between my thighs to rub me from below. My eyes opened, and I saw that his had already, staring deeply into mine. I involuntarily spread my legs, giving him more room to stroke at my moist panties, while I increased my pace inside his jeans.
For a few long, heated seconds we just lay there, barely kissing any more, just panting into each other's mouths as we fondled one another's most intimate parts. His erection stiffened endlessly as I worked further and further along it, and I could feel his fingers start to dampen as they slid across my covered vulva, each pass putting his fingers teasingly, tormentingly close to my clitoris. I gaped at him, unbearable pleasure building, and I knew, deep down, that he was feeling the same.
I was the one who broke first. All at once, I withdrew my hand and practically scrambled down his front, my legs sliding off of the bed. Kneeling on a cushion of discarded clothes, I lay myself across his waist as he swiveled towards me, rubbing my cheek lustily against his crotch and taking deep breaths of his musk. He kicked off his shoes, and I started on his zipper, finally unwrapping the beautiful package in front of me. In a single motion, I pulled his pants and underwear down, exposing his gleaming manhood completely.
If I'd had any fears about his size before, they were quashed then and there. It stood long and straight, slightly weighty in my reaching grasp, the tip uncut and slightly wet. A short tuft of blue flared out around the base. I had no idea where he fit on any scale; he was neither noticeably small nor intimidatingly large, and I had no other experience to compare it to. All that mattered was that it fit into my hand beautifully. Parts of my analytical side awoke again as I stroked Flash's penis, wondering at its shape, at the sensitivity of his hanging testicles, about the thrill and wetness its sight and touch provoked in me, about how I could make him feel good too. I stroked my hand up and down, eagerly examining its thickness. Flash's head was bent back; I couldn't see his reaction as I jacked him off. Without realizing, I reached down my free hand and started to rub myself through my panties. My thoughts ran wild. After all these years, he was here, in my hand, just inches away from my watering mouth...
By that point, I was so transfixed by Flash's penis that I barely noticed when the rest of him moved. He stood up, placing himself tauntingly overhead, and stepped to the side. I returned a favor and fulfilled an old fantasy by grabbing his sculpted butt, which gave him the opportunity he needed to put his hands under my arms and lift me gently up. "Let's not end this too quickly, okay?" he whispered, kissing me again on my forehead.
Under his touch, I sat down on the edge of the bed. He finished undressing himself and then went down on one knee in front of me, completely naked, and started untying my shoes. He was slow and gentle, and I blushed when I saw him taking peeks up my skirt while he stripped off my feet. What's he doing? I wondered, staring plaintively at the literal object of my dreams just out of reach. He's the attractive one, not me. I should be the one admiring his body, not the other way around.
With my shoes and long socks taken care of, Flash rose up again, leaning over me on the bed. He started unbuttoning my shirt, taking his time to counter his lust-induced clumsiness. I bit my lip; the pace was maddening. I could probably have sped things up by helping him, but nervousness kept me still. Truth be told, even after how far we'd come, I didn't really want him looking at me. I was nothing special.
My shirt came off, tumbling down the side of the bed. Next came my bra, which Flash managed to unhook on his second try. I habitually folded my arms across my chest, blushing deeply, but relented to his touch when he kissed me on the lips, this time powerfully and slowly. I leaned back, letting him lay me out, and blushed again as he started to kiss his way downwards, across my neck and the top part of my chest. I moved my arms only because I feared they might get in his way. Immediately his lips were on my breast, and I caught him smiling as his face sunk a little deeper into the softness there.
Why are you doing this? I asked silently, unwilling to interrupt as he teased me with his mouth. I've been an A-cup my whole life. There's clearly nothing there to find attractive. Why do you keep... "Oh," I moaned as his lips closed around an erect nipple. The pressure tugged at something deep within me, like an exposed root that linked directly to my core. He sucked gently, rolling the stiff little bud around with his tongue, then drifted over to my other breast and did the same thing again. Another protest was cut off within me. He started to move down again; "Don't stop," I murmured unexpectedly, grabbing his head. I ran my fingers through his hair, pulling him against me, letting these strange pleasures take control as he suckled again.
Before too long, he left my too-small breasts behind and moved down my stomach, still kissing all the way. He paused at my skirt; I put up no resistance as he pulled it off. My underwear was by now damp all the way through. I trembled at the next touch; for the first time, hands that weren't mine slid my panties away from me, touching and caressing my legs all the way. His head descended those last crucial inches, planting a last kiss on my mons veneris. Then he paused. A puzzled look came over his face and he pulled back, for the first time looking fully at what he was doing. Before I could figure this out, he spoke. "You shaved?"
"Y-yeah." I looked down, shamed. It had been a rush job; I could still see tiny patches of violet stubble that I'd missed. Flash looked confused. I prayed that this wasn't somehow a dealbreaker for him. "I... I thought you'd like it."
"Um..." He scratched the back of his head. "It's just... I thought that you were... you know..." He looked up at me again, seeing me wide-eyed and about to panic, and shrugged. "Doesn't matter," he said with a smile. Then he leaned back down, put his face between my legs, and licked.
It was... if I'm completely honest here, it was just okay. Flash put out an earnest effort, but it was pretty clear to me that he didn't know what he was doing. He focused on all the wrong places, he tried to go in way deeper than he needed to, and considering he was a musician, his rhythm was way off. But there and then, none of that mattered. Somehow, impossibly, Flash Sentry was giving me oral sex, and nothing that he did could have ruined that moment. When he hit a sweet spot, a firework went off inside me. I let out cries and moans when his tongue grazed my clit, grasping at the bedsheets. I spread my legs wider and wider, feeling myself get slick with inner juices that his reaching mouth eagerly disturbed.
"Flash?" I said quietly when I felt his pace start to slow. "I want you."
His head rose up, looking vaguely surprised. "You sure?"
"Very." I was. I didn't care about the truth, or what the next few days would bring. All I knew was that in that moment, more than I'd wanted anything else in the whole world, I wanted Flash Sentry.
"Hang on a sec." He stood up on slightly shaky legs, crossing over to his dresser. He opened up a top drawer and reached all the way to the back, pulling out something shiny. As he made to open it, I recognized the shape and bulge of a condom wrapper.
"It's okay," I called before he could get the foil open. "I'm..." I looked away. "I'm taking something."
He stopped. This time I could hear the surprise in his voice. "Really?"
"Yeah." I kept my gaze away. This was something of a sore spot for me. I'd started last December, after having a string of irregular and unusually bad period pains. After the fourth month I'd finally talked to my mom, and it still pains me that that, of all things, was the longest conversation we'd had since the Unspeakable Incident. The doctor assured me that there was nothing wrong with me, and I was put on birth control to help regulate things in the future. I only agreed on the condition that my mom would be the one to pick them up, and that no one, not even my dad, could ever find out about it. I still feared that somehow, if anyone ever caught me, the news would somehow get back to Sunset Shimmer. I couldn't even imagine what she would do if she found out.
"...Okay then." Flash shrugged, tossing the condom back in the drawer. "I'm impressed you got that figured out." I couldn't fathom the meaning of that. I told myself it didn't matter.
I repositioned myself on the bed, lying comfortably down the middle. Flash came back and lay down with me, kissing me once more. His mouth tasted different, which I tried not to notice. His naked chest brushed against mine. It felt right, somehow. I reached down and stroked the object of my desires, thickening it to its full length. It was finally starting to dawn on me that this, all this, would soon be inside me. I'd broken my hymen by accident a few years ago while horseback riding, so I wasn't concerned about that, but between any number of misheard and misremembered rumours, I had absolutely no idea of what my first time was "supposed" to feel like. For once, I was going into something with no research backing me at all... and it was wonderful. "I'm ready," I whispered, pulling him close. Gently, Flash rolled himself on top of me, and I spread my legs to welcome him. He used one hand to position himself, giving me a few pleasurable rubs in the process, and then pushed himself forward.
Fire in water. There was no pain, or if there was, I didn't register it. Just a stretching and a gentle sliding, my brain doing flip-flops as it worked out that there was now something inside of me, and... pleasure. Not heat, not sparks, not individual little blossoms, just raw, aching, give-it-to-me goodness. I moaned loudly and threw my head back, grasping on to Flash tightly. He looked down, in pleasure himself, but also with concern. "You okay?"
I barely heard the question. "More," I mumbled at him.
Flash gladly obliged. He withdrew a little and then thrust again, pushing himself a little deeper into me. Then he did it a third time, and a fourth, each sparking another gasp from me. I could feel my inner walls flexing around him, mostly automatically. He was filling me up, both in body and mind.
And then he started really moving.
My short little gasps turned into one long, drawn-out moan. Flash collapsed fully on top of me, his weight driving himself into me, hips pumping furiously. There were no other thoughts, just pressure, just wanting more. I grasped at his back, feeling his lean muscles ripple as he moved, pulling him nearer and nearer to me. He was making noises too, smaller moans, lost beneath my own consistent cries. "Yes," I gasped, the most complex sentence I was capable of forming at that time. "Yes. Yes. Yes!"
Grinding turned to pounding. I writhed beneath him, lifting up my hips to meet every thrust. He held my shoulders while I dug my fingers into his lower back, tugging, wanting him deeper and deeper. My legs wrapped around him and I almost lifted myself off the bed, trying to get as close to him as possible. Sweat started to roll across both of us. "Twi," he panted in between breaths, "I'm-"
It was all he was able to get out, and it was all the information I needed. I could feel it too. Some distant pressure, some meter reaching its limit, a thickening and pulsing against my insides. I loved it. The bed shook with our sex, and I shook, too, motion bubbling up deep within me until I was throwing myself against him almost as hard as he was thrusting into me. His penis pulsed. He yelled. I screamed.
And as Flash Sentry came inside me, for the first time in my life, I felt beautiful.
The aftermath was hazy, as these things tend to be. For a while we just stayed there, him growing softer inside me, caressing and kissing each other. Then we shifted through a few different positions, suddenly aware of a wet patch that had appeared beneath me, until we found one that suited us. In the end, we ended up in a place that was the mirror image of the one we'd started in, minus clothes; Flash on his back, me snuggling against his side, resting my head on his shoulder. My eyes were closed. My body was at peace. This was perfect. "You're perfect," Flash whispered, echoing my thoughts.
This time, my inner voice didn't even try to argue. "You're perfect," I countered, teasing, and traced a smiling face on his chest.
"Hah." I felt him smile. "Oh hey, I just remembered. I never got around to giving you your present."
He sat up by just a few degrees, and I watched him curiously. Leaning over, he reached down through the gap beside his bed and, from a hidden crevice, produced a bag. "I was planning to give this to you on your birthday," he said, passing it over. "But it seemed a shame to wait."
I got up on one elbow and accepted the bag, turning it over curiously. Whatever was in it wasn't very big. Giggling to myself, remembering the almost-forgotten joy of opening a birthday gift, I pulled the top open and spilled the contents into my palm.
It was a bracelet.
Specifically, two bracelets, but one Flash took from me before I could get a good look at it. The one that remained was done in all my colours, stamped with my name in shining gold lettering. On either side of it was a picture of some kind of winged unicorn, drawn in my colours as well, with my crest apparently tattooed onto her flank.
I looked back at Flash. His bracelet matched mine, done up in his colours instead. His name was written in silver, and the horse on his lacked a horn. "Do you like it?" he asked. "I thought it might... make you feel a little more like yourself."
I may have teared up. In place of an answer, I clutched the gift and dove at him, wrapping my arms around him as hard as I could. After a moment he embraced me as well, holding me tightly against his chest.
But I wasn't happy. I was remorseful. Poisonous guilt shot through my core, blotting out everything that had come before it. Because that was when I finally understood what had been going on. Flash Sentry wasn't my boyfriend; I didn't even know him. And this wasn't some trick by Sunset Shimmer, either. No, there was some other girl out there, another Twilight Sparkle, identical to me in every aspect but one, and I knew then that I'd waltzed destructively into her life and stolen her boyfriend in the most awful, evil way possible.
Because if there's one thing I can't stand, if there's one thing I hate, if there's one thing that no part of me, conscious or unconscious, living or dead, could possibly even stand to be around... it's unicorns.
"Oh, Flash," I murmured, wondering how to break the news to him. None of this was his fault. He was going to be devastated.
"Oh, hey," he answered, and I felt something stiffening against my leg. When I raised myself up, he was grinning at me. "Ready for round two?"
Did my heart break? Did I have one to begin with? It stopped mattering. Under his gaze, I smiled back. "You bet I am."
