In a Cello Mood

Dear Diary,

You ever have one of those lazy days? Of course you don’t, you’re just paper. But I do, and one of such days was today. I can’t say that it was entirely uneventful, but the weather decided to take a day off with the graduate coldening, and it was a warm, lazy day, the kind of day that you don’t want to leave home, and just want to stay and cuddle with your marefriend.

And, considering that it was a Saturday and I didn’t have to go to uni, I did just that.

***

“You ever think about moving?”

Octavia raised her head from the book and gave Vinyl a long, thoughtful look. “Vinyl,” she said calmly, setting the book aside and rotating on the cushion to face the bed, where Vinyl was lying, staring at the ceiling, her spectacles near her on the bed, a magazine (Modern Equestrian DJs, Octavia noticed out of the corner of her eye) on the other side of her. “I am reading a steamy romcom about two mares, an uninhabited island, and a bottle of alcoholic beverage, and you ask me a serious question at a time like this?”

“Well,” Vinyl reasoned idly, “I could ask you why you aren’t writing a steamy romcom about two mares and what-not, but I am in one of those serious moods.”

Octavia sighed and rose from the cushion, reaching the bed in a couple steps and crawling onto it carefully, so as not to crush the spectacles. “All right, Vinyl.” She laid her head on Vinyl’s belly, wondering whether her marefriend had gone fatter, or whether it was just her imagination. Tickle the chubby pony! a little mare in Octavia’s head insisted. The cellist shooed her away. “What did you mean by ‘moving’? Equestria is the best place in the world.”

Vinyl shook her head and placed her hoof on Octavia’s head, stroking her hair. “I don’t mean, move out of the country. I mean, you ever thought if we should get a place of our own?” The spinner moved her hoof in small round motions, ruffling her cellist’s hair; but Octavia didn’t mind, lying next to her lover, pondering over the question.

“No,” Octavia decided finally and rolled off Vinyl’s belly, almost falling off the bed. “I never thought that.” The grey mare took the spectacles and put them away, cuddling up to Vinyl on the bed, feeling the white pony’s warmth radiating off her. “I don’t think we are mature enough for that. Besides, don’t you like living with Mom and Jeffrey? They are great and kind ponies, and they love you a lot.”

“I know that, Tavi,” Vinyl replied, facing her mare and wrapping a hoof around her. “It’s just that… You don’t think it’s weird for your mom to hear us, well, rut each other senseless almost every night?” Seeing Octavia’s thick blush, Vinyl winced uneasily. “I mean, you really, uh, you’re really loud and really profane when we do the thing.”

“Thank you, Vinyl,” Octavia hissed, trying to take the white hoof off her. “I think I noticed.”

However, the white hoof held tight. “Come on, Tavi, I’m just suggesting things.” Vinyl tried to lean in and kiss the flustered mare, but Octavia turned her snout away primly. “Do you want me to lick you where you like it?”

“No!” Octavia huffed, finally turning back to the spinner and receiving a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “I don’t think that… that is a reason for moving out.” The grey pony sighed. “But it is a reason to soundproof the walls.”

Vinyl nodded. “Wouldn’t it be cool if there was a spell for soundproofing?” she asked wistfully.

“I think there is a spell for that… but you’re not going to learn it.” Octavia smiled, patting her mare on the cheek. “You aren’t really… magical.”

“Oh?” A sly expression appeared on Vinyl’s face as she reached for the magazine behind her back and pushed it off the bed, giving her the space to roll back, dragging Octavia on top of her. “I would say my tongue… is pretty magical…”

At first, Octavia wanted to say something as a retort, but instead, a feeling of completeness enveloped her. A warm, pleasant surge of emotions filled her from the inside, making her sit up on Vinyl’s body, Vinyl’s hooves on her flank. “Well…” the cellist drawled. “I think we should see about that…”

***

There was a blue moon in the sky, a moon that radiated cold, lifeless light, a moon that shone with shades of pink and white, a moon that Octavia focused her attention on as she stood on the porch of the house, taking a step off the steps, feeling the grass under her bare hooves. It was getting cold, but she was bare, looking up to the rising moon. It wasn’t very late, but winter was coming, and darkness descended before the evening could take its rightful place.

Octavia took a deep breath, taking in the wet, crispy air, shivering from the humidity, but embracing the cold. The cold cleared her head, cleansed her mind, gave her a perspective. She heard the door opening behind her. The cellist turned her head and saw Eleanore leave the house, wearing a scarf and carrying another one.

The older mare walked up to her filly and silently put the scarf on Octavia’s neck. The grey mare winced a little, for the scarf was a little itchy, but she didn’t question Jeffrey’s proficiency at his craft. “Thank you, Mom.”

“You’re welcome, dear,” Eleanore replied softly and stood by her daughter’s side, looking at the blue moon. “It’s a fine evening, isn’t it?” Octavia nodded, without diverting her attention from the starry sky. Constellations winked at her, waltzing in place, their light warm and flickering. “Why aren’t you spending it with your marefriend?”

Octavia didn’t answer for a while - not because she didn’t want to answer, but because the answer surprised even her. “I think I need some alone time,” she said, hoping that her mother wouldn’t take it the wrong way and walk away. “I usually love company, but sometimes I need to think, and I best do it alone. I think,” she added uneasily.

“A bit for your thoughts?”

Octavia turned and saw a small understanding smile on her mother’s face. She didn’t like to share her thoughts, which she found silly more often than not, but decided to do so. “Vinyl asked me today if we should move out and live on our own.” She looked at Eleanore for support, but the older mare just stood there, listening. “And it made me think. We all grow older, and, well, I don’t really like it. I know you’re always be there for me,” she hastily added, seeing Eleanore open her mouth, “and that I’m your little filly, and so on, but I really fear growing older.”

“Octavia,” Eleanore said very gently, “if you’re worried about growing older, that means you aren’t growing older. When you do grow older, and mature, you won’t even have noticed it. Just, at one point of your life, you will see yourself in the mirror and think, have all those years really passed?” The mare chuckled and nuzzled the filly on the cheek. “Don’t worry about maturing, Octavia. Focus on today… well, maybe tomorrow. But the future will decide itself.”

Octavia sighed and nodding, turning her hooves to walk inside. “Speaking of tomorrow, I’ll probably have to go to Beauty’s and work on the music.” She glanced at her mother. “I did tell you she fancies me, didn’t I.”

Eleanore nodded. “Yes. And I will always try to help…” The mare smiled radiantly. “But I think this is something you should do yourself. Figure out the way things work.”

“Sure thing, Mom.” The two mares walked into the house side by side. “Sure thing.”

***

Tomorrow fills me with dre- No, it’s not actually dread. It isn’t fear either. It is, more or less, a feeling of deep, superficial thinking about the situation and not being able to resolve it. I don’t know what to say to Beauty - and if we can ever become friends after…

Well, we have to do this project anyway. We already have some notes, so it should be easy to get on from there.

Till tomorrow, then.

Octavia Philarmonica, November 7th