Octavia Melody ran her hooves across the sleek, glistening body of her most cherished, precious lover as the sun sank lower in the sky. Night after night as of late, they came together like this in a passionate fury.
She could not eat. Nor could she sleep. It had been as a fever eating away at her. An itch she had to scratch.
Oh, this one, who was always there for her.. Through the tears and the occasional smiles, tight as they were, but smiles none the less.. Through the disappointments, the many bottles of wine, the hurricane of sheet music and ink stained hooves; the late night rehearsals, the cheers and stomping of satisfied ponies cheering for her...No, for both of them there together on the gleaming stage.
Usually, Octavia held a gentle, but strong hoof as she stroked her beautiful lover, holding them between her hooves; determination, and bead of exhaustion streaking her features as they collided together in a flowing stream of passionate crescendos. Louder, and louder, until finally, Octavia felt a release and her hoof shook, her heart soaring far above her tiny flat in the outskirts of tidy Canterlot.
Sometimes the two of them would play like this for hours on end, long into the nights and into early in the mornings. The charcoal colored mare found it difficult to show this side of her passion in front of her orchestra colleges. The cool wood of her chair was too impersonal, and the stage seemed to stretch on in front of her for miles in a polished straight road that she felt was at times, most restrictive.
No, no one knew her, except her fine lover, here in her tiny apartment, alone…
Octavia’s favorite time alone was just as the sun began to set, together on her balcony, with a chilled glass of wine, shimmering from condensation in the night air with the stars twinkling in the sky.
Tonight, however, her hooves were not gentle, but bordering on harsh. She was as though starved, as her body stiffly moved to the unheard rhythm in her head, stroking her lover over and over again, fervent, as though possessed. Violating, pleading, with guilty, selfish laden needs, with nopony‘s regard but her own, and the unheard music possessing her mind.
There, just over the next round of haunting pitches, and screaming cords, she could feel it coming; the long awaited release.
It felt nice. Really, really nice, to have this intensity back again in her life. The mare couldn’t help but feel a sense of blissful delusion wash over her, as sweet and soothing as a lullaby, but as intense and trembling as a crashing, roaring ocean wave. Octavia was ready to be swept away, as her head tilted back, eyes sliding closed, as the glory of the feeling began to crash down upon her.
‘Yes! Swallow me up! She yelled breathless within her mind, her hooves scraping and slipping in her grip, trying to hold the rhythm, pressure and remain as steady as possible. It was a glorious feeling, even as her muscles trembled with blissful fatigue.
Finally, at last, as the dark, sweat-browed mare moved with her lover, faster and with more focus then she had been able to muster in a long, long time, together the two lovers reached the crescendo.
“Ahh..!”
Octavia grunted, feeling every muscle in her body vibrating, every cell singing out, provoked into a fevered frenzy, as they were nearly finished.
So close, she could feel it..
And then..
TWANG!
Nooo! “Horseapples!!!”
Octavia swore, panting, as a primal growl escaped her throat and whined into a full out vicious snarl, her glaring eyes confirming what her ears had known. One of her beloved cello’s strings had snapped under the pressure of her demanding hoof. Obviously, the cello knew its limits, much to the displeasure of the tired, sore, hungry musician, who ignored her own.
Nonetheless, as she detangled her throbbing, cramped limbs from her held position, scowling and sniffling in frustration, the last of the dying cords still lingered through the room to thickly fill it and spill out to reverberate into the heavy night air.
Together, she knew, their song had reached farther then she could ever have imagined reaching out with her body alone.
Together, Octavia and her cello touched the stars…
Well, almost, as said furled string, quivering there at the end of the strait like the lingering tear on the edge of her cheek, had snapped right at the climax of their composition.
“Bloody Tartarus..” She swore again, softer this time, murmuring an apology to her cello, stroking it lovingly with shaky, blistered, hooves.
“The third one this week. Gracious, what has gotten into me...” Octavia mused quietly, cradling her cello and staring out into the shadowy darkness of her apartment. She had played right through sunset, and it had been night for a few hours now.
Good thing she had forgotten to put her dinner into the oven, as it would have dried out into a petrified, indistinct mess by now.
Her stomach decided it was time to speak up, now that it could get a word in edge-wise and added to her dying orchestra performance by letting out a low, long, growl.
It fell on deaf ears though, as the only place the musician could get with her stomach was as far as the ‘fridge, and not high in the sky among the stars, so more often then not, it was ignored. The promise of fame and glory was far more enticing to her currently, even if it was an empty food, the taste was intoxicating and addictive.
Octavia absently wiped at the rivulet of sweat trickling from her brow in a swipe of a shaky foreleg, as she bent over the side of her plain, creaky chair to rummage around her cello case. After a moment, she shifted her poor, abused instrument more to the side in order to have a better look, and another noise escaped her throat a moment later.
Drat, where were they?
Octavia leaned over more, balancing perfectly on the edge of her chair, while holding herself and her now mute instrument in check, as she looked more thoroughly.
Don’t tell me.. It can’t be..! She whined impatiently in her mind with a furrow of her brows. Of all the worst times!
‘Not now!!’
With an irritated sigh, the dark mare unceremoniously pushed the mop of her heavy dark bangs out of the way to try once more, before sweat once again threatened to creep into and sting her tired and wary amethyst eyes.
Unknown to her, she had streaked her forehead rather startlingly, with a smear of pale yellow resin dust from her hooves in the process.
“Finally!“ Octavia let out a small cheer of triumph, and a whooshing sigh of relief, as her hoof found and grasped the last package of shining metal strings from her cello case.
Sitting upright again, she spent the next few moments, meticulously and tenderly restringing her fine instrument, and then, cleaning and polishing it to its former, glossy, gleaming glow with a soft pale periwinkle cloth.
Even though she had been spent on every level, nonetheless, Octavia did not rush this part and used as much care and gentleness as a lover would end a session of passion, in soft kisses and murmurs of praise and thanks for the performance they had shared together.
Her hoof slowed to a stop, as she had watched it in practiced, repetitive motion, to polish the gleaming wood with unfocused eyes.
At last, the gleaming, silver-plated latches finally clicked down one by one, into their resting place upon the heavy instrument case. There was an air of finality for the night she relished. Only then, did the disciplined musician let herself sag in exhaustion and begin the elusive process, and much acclaimed task known as: Relaxation.
That noise had always meant a pat on the back, a moment of proud reflection, a long awaited break and reward in a job well done.
Only, it wasn't, somehow.
Octavia Melody felt.. Hollow.
Empty.
Void.
How many ways could she say the same thing?
But really, every time she tried to explain it, each and every time, it wasn’t quite enough. It didn’t quite describe it.
This was troubling for the charcoal gray mare. Her music was, and always had been, enough.
It was enough.
Her mediocre apartment was enough. The outrageous rent, was enough. The obnoxious landlord, asking for premium bits for less space, was enough and all because she insisted on living in Canterlot!
“Oh Octavia.. Quit sulking.” She muttered softly, absently brushing away a hot stray tear, fast as a shooting star across her soft cheek.
Continuing her routine, Octavia stiffly got up, stretching her aching muscles and muffling a yawn, shuffling her way to her sagging love seat and to sit near the drape-drawn window.
The drapes had to be drawn at night, otherwise it was just creepy. Even though she was on the second floor, there was something that vibrated deep within her soul, staring out into that empty, dark, endless night that made her stomach clench and roll in a dizzying fear...Or maybe she just really needed some dinner.
She chuckled darkly. Nearly midnight was no time for dinner. Maybe she would just have a bigger breakfast, oh but then, rehearsals were first thing in the morning and having to rush out early in the morning to be able to catch a cab in time...
The hungry mare wondered longingly about her next meal, as she sat, feeling the weight of the day finally catching up to her through the adrenaline high of her performance before, on her small, sagging love seat and got out a file.
Oh the glamorous joys of being a stringed musician.. Cracked and chipping hooves. She filed away absently, willing away all thought within her mind, a frown creeping on her face, and her eyes watering with un-shed tears.
When had she become so…unhappy? When had it mattered?
Octavia asked herself these things, as her head drooped slightly, her hooves sagging and the file slipping down into her lap.
As her eyelids slipped closed, Octavia briefly recalled that past morning as she sat at her kitchen table, promptly at 6 a.m., as she always had.
Bathed and showered in her fuzzy, violet bathrobe and matching slippers, she had been sipping her morning tea, consisting of lavender and earl gray, nibbling her single piece of plain multi-grain toast with a slightly more then modest smear of zap apple jam, when suddenly..
BAM, BAM, BAM!
Octavia jolted awake with a startled snort, her red-rimmed eyes opening in shock, as her heart pounded within her chest.
Somepony was at her front door; her foggy mind told her warily from the mists of sleep. Panicked and confused, the clock on her plain white wall calmly, dispassionately, read two a.m.
Her chest heaved as she slowed her breathing and waited, her file poised almost as a dangerous weapon, as her eyes focused on her shadowy front door.
Had Octavia dreamed that knock?
Brow furrowing, it had been just like that morning, she recalled with a sleepy realization, as another icy jolt of adrenaline shot through her as the knock sounded again. This time there was a brief pause of consideration before the final knock vibrated through the room particularly loudly and also, through her skull. Octavia felt a headache coming on, as her ears flicked back to the assault upon her, and also the lights flicking on across the alleyway from her neighbors.
“Sweet Faust!” She growled again, knowing instantly what, or rather who, was outside her door.. At two am.
As the weary mare hurried to wrench the door open, even as the white hoof raised to knock again, she couldn't help but woefully remember only four days ago.
A much saner, level-minded Octavia had lowered her muzzle to the page she had been proofreading one last time.
With carefully scrolled fine, curly, neat letters, she had added the last line to her wanted ad to be posted the next morning in Equestria Daily’s newspaper.
The well-bread, sophisticated mare, tried to be polite, but as blunt as possible. She didn't want a psycho, party-crazed younger pony as a roommate, nor some crotchety, old pony, neither.
Hmm.
This would be hard.
Finally, sitting back, she was satisfied. Dusting the letter with fine sand, and wiping her ink-blotched hoof with a rag, her glittering, amethyst eyes scanned her writing.
Her eyes skimmed over the undertones in her letter that her heart had not ignored:
WANTED:
“A well mannered, nice, and down-to-earth, mare pony to share the spare bedroom with in my uptown apartment.
Well, it’s a glamorous walk-in closet, but really, it’s huge!”
(Damn her thoroughness. Perhaps she shouldn't have included that part.)
There had been a pause, a break in the text and then:
“… A music lover is a MUST.”
Octavia braced herself before opening the door, first a crack, and with a resolved sigh, to accommodate her new, spirited, bright-maned roommate. Her eyes widened as she opened the door a bit more. Her roommate, and about a hundred pounds of musical equipment were waiting there, in the doorway.
“Oh.. Sweet.. Celestia.” She whispered, her jaw slacking.
Vinyl Scratch grinned widely, looking like some wicked night demon behind those horrid shades of hers, and bobbed her head, gesturing back to her beloved music systems with a shrug. She mistook Octavia’s shock at how much she had brought for quite the opposite.
“I know right?! Most of it is in storage, but I hope to have it all moved over by the end of the week!”
Octavia stammered wordlessly, feeling faint.
“And I even brought pizza!” Vinyl offered helpfully.
~fin
Author's Note
Just came on a whim to take a break from more serious, heavy-plotted stories, that may or may not ever get the seal of approval because of life and the tragedy of...I'm tired.
Anyway! My girlfriend named the chapter when I stared blankly at the screen, and coincidentally, it was 2 a.m. when I finished this, so I know how poor Octavia feels.
Octavia and Vinyl are one of my favorite pairings, and Octavia comes easily to me, as this story in particular, tips its hat back to the Sailor Moon days(I am known on fanfiction.net as 'NeptunesTears' hence this name here,) back when I wrote Haruka and Michiru fan fiction. :D
Okay, she says this is for the Bio, so I'm shutting up now. Hope you enjoyed!! :D
