As soon as the words leave my lips, I instantly regret it more than anything I've ever said. The look she gives me is shattering, the love, the hurt, the confusion and frustration. I steel myself in the heat of the moment, our first major fight over, me saying something just to hurt my one true love. On the inside, my heart breaks, seeing her usually beautiful, noble visage be marred by the tears of a hearts lament, her long, silky white-ish hair frizzing about her face as she weeps from the deepest part of her soul or souls.
She trembles from the weight of her sobs, her delicate shoulders threatening to break from the gravity of her sorrow. I can't bear to see it, see what my need to win at any cost, my desire to end an argument stemming from Tiara's worry of my behavior of late turned into a fight from my turning it around on her, lashing back at the mother of my child in a irrational defensive manner, unable to admit she was right, that I have a problem.
"How could you...?" she whispers in sorrow, the tears unending, the pain real, the guilt setting in my heart. I turn my back to her, the perfect mare she is, how could she ever understand that I feel undeserving of her love? I may not even have it by the end of the night. I walk out of the kitchen, glaring out of my long bangs, roughly grabbing my jacket from the hanger, my keys from the bowl, and place my hand on the door knob. I pause there for a moment, hearing my wife speak one last, bearly audible word. "Scootaloo..." My name is uttered with such a mixture of torment, yet love, that I cannot bear it, and storm out of the house, ignoring our luxury car for the novelty of walking. I see the incredible house we live in, the gorgeous lawn, meticulously taken care of by the best grounds keepers money can hire, the handful of obscenely expensive sports cars sitting sparkling under the moonlight in our humongous drive way... and I feel anger that I did not provide these for my wife in the least.
It's later, much later, and I wander the shady downtown area of Ponyville, our hometown were we first met, and where we were wed. As I leave yet another bar, idly marveling at the expansion the town has seen over the last 10 years, I wonder why she holds this podunk, rural village so high in regard when she could live in the richest districts in the biggest cities if she wanted to. Maybe because he lives here still, I think in a drunken, jealous rage. My fists clench into balls, tight enough to draw blood with my nails. My stunted wings flitter angrily behind me,causing me to stumble slightly down the street. I keep a glazed eye out for another place to drown my woes, hiccupping into my orange hand. My hand is sore and bleeding from the knuckles lightly, as I was kicked out of the last bar brawling... I scoff in a tizzy, what frickin' pansies!, and continue my search for a new place to call sanctuary for the night, seeking solace from my own inner demons.
I pass by the famous Ponyville Dragon Theater,owned by the resident Spike the Dragon, a large and luxurious movie theater second only to the one in Manehatten. I turn my head away from the posters adorning the walls, trying not to acknowledge the image of my wife center stage, Diamond Tiara, A-list actress and media darling... I fight back the bitter tears threatening to fall down my cheek... How could she claim to be a single mother? How could she deny my role in her life on national television? Couldn't she see she hurt me first? I am NOT the bad guy here!
I shake my head, and take my mind off those bitter thoughts. I find distraction in the arms of a brand new bar, a little heard off hole in the wall called The Yellow Flag. I enter through the double doors, noticing the very "Mexicolt-western" feel of the place, and go sit at the bar, my only company an older stallion finding immense interest in his shot glass, and a Griffon bartender with a bad look about him.
I find myself ordering a scotch, and then another, and another, and soon I find the time had passed on in this quiet, lonely manner for close to an hour before something gets my attention. I glance to the side as I bring the newly freshened glass to my black cherry lipstick-colored lips, wondering when I even put the damnable substance on, and see the middle aged stallion looking at me, then sighing.
"What're you looking at, asshole?" I snarl, throwing back the drink, and glaring in irritation at the admittedly nicer looking gentleman. Dude could be a loving father or something...
The guy smiles sadly, and fiddles with his whiskey, swirling the ice cubes around inside of the glass, makings a small tinkling sound.
"Relationship problems, young lady?" he asks finally, hitting it dead center, and making me angry at this intrusion of my personal life. How dare this prick?!
"Fuck off,' I manage to mutter, after minutes of trying to think of something better and more intelligent to say. I take another drink, and glare in the opposite direction of the old dude.
" You shouldn't be here,' he says softly. " You should really get home, and talk to them... try and make things work out."
" Mind your own god-damned business, what's it to you?!' I growl, indignantly. " You stay outta of my fucking life, you don't know me. You don't know shit!"
"I know you'll regret what you've said for the rest of your life, if you don't go and get through this rough spot with your beloved..."
I was on him in an instant, pulling the short Earth pony up on his tiptoes by the collar of his shirt, and raging in his face, not caring about the hot tears streaming down my cheeks in thin lines.
"What tha fuck you say?! Do you wanna fucking DIE, you limp-dicked cocksucker?! What do you know about JACK SHIT?! HUH!?" I scream at the colt, not caring about the attention I was drawing from the rest of the patrons in the bar, or that the man looked at me with such sad sympathy.
" Sometimes?... Yes... yes, I do...' he answered quietly...truthfully, and I felt my hands release him, and I watched him with wide eyed realization... that this guy was just like me. He slumped back into his stool at the bar, and I sat down next time, limp and uncomfortable. Was this really what I was looking forward to?
"...I hate everything...' the rust-red coated stallion sighed, deep with self-loathing regret. I look in his direction, and watch him in silence.
" I hate my job... I hate my life...' he said, staring at his glass. " If it weren't for my two kids, I'd hate my ex-wife. "
I saw as he gave me a meaningful glance, and I looked down at my feet, thinking about what happened tonight, and started to, for the first time, question my actions.
" I know I should be strong, and not be this starved thin...' he shrugged down at his body, that I now realized was sickly and impoverished. " I just cant get over the fact that she left me for him..."
My own insecurities flashed in my mind. Could my action drive DT into his arms?...
The stallion sighs tiredly, and looks down at his drink. He glances at me, and says " Tonight, I think... I hate everything..."
I stare in silent self-contemplation, and watch as he shrugs and turns back to his drink. I think of the times I spent with Tiara, my million bit goddess... I remember how I fell in love with her at first glance, and how I hid my embarrassment by insulting her... The flawless, rich and snooty Queen of Ponyville Junior High... I think about how we acted as if we hated each others guts, but would smile at each other with respect when no one was looking... how I wondered at one point if we simply fought with each other in public as a way to actually be near one another, as our social standings wouldn't allow such a thing in that teenage hell. How we got into a fight in the bathroom of of the Senior Prom, which changed from shoving and hair pulling to hungry kisses and a passionate night of making love, only exiting the stall when we realized everyone else had gone home.
I look at my scotch glass as it bled condensation on the outside, and I glanced at the man drinking away his sorrows, and his life...I wondered if things were really as bad as this tortured soul portrayed from his own failed experience with love... I was reminded of the times when she wouldn't take me seriously, when her fiery arrogance that came from years of her getting her way simply humored me, so that we would stop arguing and I'd cave into her will. But I also am reminded of that after those times, when I would be laying on the couch, staring the ceiling I would smell her intoxicating scent, and feel her desirable, soft body cling to me, see the top of her head as as she buried her face in my less than developed chest and express her muffled apology into my bosom, and ask me to return to bed... I think of how she never once forgot any of our firsts, how the room lights up when she enters it, how the same happens to my heart whenever she smiles at me, in that way reserved only for me.
I smile upon making my decision, and stand up from my seat, look at the stallion, and pay for his drinks. And I say" Thanks... Thanks for everything..."
The guy just smiled at me, and nodded. I left the bar, more sober than I was several minutes ago, and hurried home.
"Huh?! Wha-Oh, Scootaloo...My Scootaloo, where did you go?' she exhales in utter relief, hugging me in a vice like way, as I had tried to enter the bed without waking her. She had cried herself to sleep, and was clinging to my favorite pillow for dear life, hiccuping and sighing my name. She had woke up when I was softly stroking her hair, and now she was hugging me to herself, as if she was afraid I wasn't real and would float away. I shush her, and hold her in my arms, my heart over flowing with love. I pet her hair, the way I do to calm her down, and I could tell she was calmer already, as she snuggled into my embrace deeper, and she sobbed apologies into my night shirt. I tell her that she has nothing to apologize for, that I should have never said such a thing, that I should have never questioned her love, her loyalty, and I ask if she could ever forgive me. I realize that I have started to cry, and Tiara pulls herself up and kisses me tenderly, longingly. We spend seemingly an eternity like that, in each other's arms, comforting each other, before long we are laying in bed together, my love resting on me like a pillow, holding me gently, my arms above my head, one bent down, slowly and softly stroking her hair, making her softly purr in that way she does...
"Hey, Tee...' I speak after awhile, eliciting a grunt of question from my beautiful wife.
"What is it, Scooter-bear?' she asked, using the pet name I find embarrassing, but allow her to use in the privacy of my own home.
"You once said there was something you loved about me... something that made you fall for me...' I say, looking down at her. " What was it?"
'Hmm...well, a lot of things, now, actually...' she said after a moment of looking thoughtful. She closed her eyes as if in a dream, smiling as she moved deeper into my arms. "There's the way you wake me up every morning...' (I remember the special forehead kiss I give to her every day, as she sleeps through her alarm.) '… the way you get mad at me...' (Usually I am in the right, too...) ' ...the way you always forgive me afterwards...' (No matter the reason, I can't stand to see her upset for long...I'm such a softie...)'The way you cover me when we ride the bus...' ( She's a 10 time Oscolt winning actress, a woman with a genius IQ, Canterlot Times' #1 Most Drop-dead Gorgeous Celebrity in the World, and she's all MINE.)' The way you ride your scooter...' (The same scooter since I was 10, it's an important part of my past...) 'And the way you sip your tea...I love the way your smile just beams, and the way you sing off-key...~' She teases me, and giggles when I playfully jostle her and protest with a grin. (We can't ALL have platinum albums, Ms. Perfect~) " Heeheehee...*sigh* the way you haunt my dreams...the way you wield your knife...' (I am at the very least a World-class Chef, available for hire never~) '….that time we danced till three...'
"You used to suck, that's for sure...' I grin, teasingly. She playfully hits my shoulder, and rolls over onto my stomach, laying on her own, looking into my eyes with a serious, loving stare.
"...the day you changed my life...' she spoke quietly, causing me to give her my full attention, swallowing hard like a virgin, as only she can, color coming to my cheeks, her lips closing in, oh-so ever slowly towards my own, her expression one with devotion...of commitment... of utter trust and love in me, and I feel silly for ever having doubts about her and Snails, the colt who donated his sperm to give us our darling daughter Serenity Brooch, the spitting image of her mother...
"...No one can EVER take that,' our lips are lightly brushing as she finishes in a hushed, husky tone," No one can ever take YOU away from me..."
And I found reassurance in her kiss.
Author's Note
I found I really like the Scootaloo/Diamond Tiara pairing, and was inspired to do this. Enjoy! ^_^
