Author's Note
Before you read, please note that this is my first attempt at a romance plot. Please be merciful. Thank you. As for this being teen, I am not really sure. I read the FAQ and I think it would fall under that. If it isn't, then I'll change it if it is brought to my attention.
Peppermint Drops
No one ever expects peppermint candies to burn. Not at all to singe at the edges and give off an uncomfortable taste of char and mint. But that happened to me for the first time ever. I hadn’t been paying attention to the oven. I don’t need to be reminded that it wasn’t like me one bit. Normally, I couldn’t wait for my candies to cool. Even when my mother made candies for me, I would dance around the oven and stare through the glass. I just couldn’t wait to pick out crumbs from my crooked teeth. But it wasn’t like that this night. Instead, I stared outside where the clouds hung low and were very grey. They looked ready to burst. I didn’t think that anypony would ever want to walk out in the rain.
My nose was irritated. That alerted me right before the alarm beeped. I ran to the oven and reached in with hoof mitts. By the time I slammed the tray on the stove, I was coughing and my bright red hair had a dark tint from the smoke that exploded out. I grabbed the nearest towel and tried to force it all through the open window even though more heat escaped than anything else. I had never ruined a tray of candies before and now I stood there in a hazy room, with the thought of something new crowding in between recipes and homework. The thought of her was ballooning out of control. It was almost as if I had forgotten everything. How to mix peppermint and dough for the right mixture of sparkly goodness. How long it took to cook them. Or even how to breathe.
I was almost conflicted at that point. Did I even want her to come? Deep down, I would always want that but she might smell the smoke of somepony that burned peppermint candy. What would she think then? The mare I knew was old enough to want to clean the oven. She’s a professional, unlike me. I still go to the little brick schoolhouse on the hill. I got my cutie mark a couple years ago and yet, she was there, cheering me on. So it couldn’t be as bad as all that.
Amazingly, I saw her come down the road to my house. Her cute little saddlebags bounced as she trotted, with little care in her eyes for the swirl of blackened clouds above. I couldn’t wait to see what she brought. As she walked up to the door, I was waiting for the way her hoof rapped as she usually did, a quick tapping. My lips shook but I was grinning. I wanted to keep my cool but I couldn’t help it. After she touched it, I swung the door open and said, or more like shouted, the word hey at her really loudly. I was beaming, my mouth wide enough to reflect the moonlight.
The edges of her young mouth creased as she smiled. “Hi there. I heard you were free tonight”.
I chuckled as I always did when I am amused. “Of course. You are welcome anytime”. As I ushered her inside, I started to worry. She had to have smelled the smoke by now. But it seemed like she wasn’t about to let that diminish her spirit. She would battle a torrent of rain just so she could be with me. That’s what I’ve always believed.
She set her bags down in the kitchen. “Smells busy in here”. She didn’t mention how strong the smoke must have been. I was sitting in there for a good twenty minutes. I was already getting used to it. What I noticed was a sweetness I was very familiar with, a natural aura of honey from this mare’s coat and mane like the stuff just seeped from her very fur. Being next to her was like absorbing the air from a honeycomb. Everything about that night was just like normal except for the fact that I bombed at baking. It was her and me on another quiet night, two candy canes and three twisty sweets.
I let the mare chuckle at my expense. She’s always prone to doing that; I’ve never minded it before. Her laugh is a bell that makes me daydream even when we’re both hoof deep in dough. It almost made me forget about the mess even when she was laughing about that very thing. I was the one that brought it up. I told her that the candy was meant for her. My own peppermint specialty.
“Well, Twist…that’s quite the batch you got here” she continued. I didn’t think she was going to let up. She might keep it up all night even. I didn’t care. I just wanted her to know why I did it. But it was hard to admit it even to myself why I failed.
“Are you afraid of tasting it?” I teased. I didn’t feel like boasting or even lifting my own self-esteem up for my own sake. I just wanted her to try at least one.
She popped one in her mouth and chewed. Every crunch came with a twitch in her cheeks. She puffed her mouth a couple times as she tried to swallow them then she drank some water.
“They’re not bad”. I knew that she wanted to make me feel better but I knew those sweets belonged in the garbage. They had an ugly brown shell that crunched when it was bitten. It was supposed to be white like peppermint candies should. Some of the red melted through and collected in streaks across the pan like blood.
“For your first time anyway” she added with a smirk. She got a scraper and pushed the candies aside. She started to scoop them on a plate.
I asked her what she meant. It was hardly my first time even making that kind of candy. That’s why I got my cutie mark. Anything that had to do with peppermint was what I lived for.
“Everypony messes up. It’s a fact of life. You thought I always made everything exactly right all the time”? That little kernel of wisdom made me smile like she had tickled my stomach, like the freshness of peppermint feels on my tongue.
“But you always make the best candy in town” I said sheepishly.
“You never knew me when I was getting my cutie mark”. She sat on a stool next to me. Her eyes gazed into mine and before I knew it, she was holding my hoof. “But I was just like you when I was your age”.
I thought that I had started to blush. “Then I guess that we’re really alike, you and I”.
“I don’t have to guess. I know so”. She patted my mane, sweeping her hoof over my ears. “I can’t wait to get started”. I watched as she went to her saddlebags and pulled out some raw materials. It looked like we were about to get to baking.
I am seldom more at ease than when I am in the kitchen with Sweetie Drops. There is something special about us when we work. We are like four hooves connected to the same body. I wouldn’t have known the first thing about my own self if it wasn’t for her. Unlike most teachers, she never gets mad. Whether it was spilt confectionary sugar, hooves sticky with honey tracked across her floor or even an out of control blender, she laughed it off. She gave me something to remember, a lesson and a kiss on the cheek for good behavior. I took them both with me into my dreams. She was a lot more than a teacher or even a mentor. She was like my best friend.
We had designed a new recipe, something that will be sure to really impress the customers tomorrow at her shop. Sweetie had pulled out all the stops this time and brought all her favorite ingredients. Her favorite sweets. White chocolate, honey, powdered sugar from the city. I stuck to my tried and true, peppermint shavings. I made it myself and I have stockpiles of it in jars just in case.
We had mixed up everything in one huge glass bowl. The batter was whipped until it was as smooth as frosting. We both formed them into little balls that would become bite sized morsels of chocolate and peppermint, our flavors swirled together. We then put them in layers on the baking sheet and set the oven to 400 degrees.
The anxiety scratched against my skull. It was loud and becoming more overpowering as the minutes passed and I was still with her. What were her true feelings about the candy I burned? It was just a single failure but it was the one waiting for her when she came. When she walked in, she could smell it, the way I had messed up. Burnt peppermint is not good enough for a mare like her. Who was I to think otherwise?
She threw her apron on the chair and breathed a sigh of relief. She must have seen me tap my hooves against the countertop which is something I never did because she asked what was wrong. I wasn’t sure what to say. At that moment, I wanted to open one of my peppermint jars and dig in until I’ve swallowed it all and my muzzle and hooves would be stained red. Then at least I could be content even if it turned out that I wasn’t good enough for her company after all.
I gave out a nervous sigh. “I’m just glad you’re here. I’m not sure where I would be without you”.
“You would be where you are right now. We’re both candy makers. This is what we do”.
“I know but it wouldn’t be the same”. I was so jittery that I wanted to cry. I might have felt some tears well up at the corners of my eyes. “When I’m alone, I’m never all that great at anything as when we are together. It’s always been that way”.
She then came and held me closer, her eyes drawn into mine. Hers were mirrors of beauty, reflecting the red fire of the stove. It was how my heart felt, bursting with desire for her touch.
“Is there some way you can imagine that you might have helped me as much as I have helped you?” she asked, her voice soft but serious. I could tell that she really wanted me to think. So I did. All these memories flooded into the forefront of my consciousness. The times when she used to clean up after me. When she would comfort me with one of her delicious candies. Even after I burnt myself, sucking on a hard caramel was better than ice at taking the pain away. Things didn’t stay the same. I learned how to make peppermint candy. The day I did, we were so happy that we made it all night in this very kitchen together.
I smiled. I was certain that I knew what she was getting at and I didn’t want to admit it to myself but she was right. “You improved too. I know I love your sweets way more than I used to and they were great even then”.
She giggled at my compliment. “Thanks. It wasn’t you alone that worked so hard. I did too”.
“But it wasn’t just for your shop, wasn’t it”?
“My shop is important to me…but what I really wanted to do was impress you. I wouldn’t give that up so I just got better at my craft”. I realized that my eyes were dry from not blinking for so long. When I did, a tear fell on my cheek and I quickly wiped it away. I was amazed by how two minds could be so alike. How everything they poured their hearts into were for each other. I knew that I loved her with all of mine.
“Sweetie, let’s watch the oven like we used to” I said. The next moment, a hoof that smelled like honey was around me and we both sat in front of the oven and looked into the fire that was turning those lumps of dough into beautiful treats before our eyes. I certainly didn’t plan it but everything seemed just right. I stole the opportunity and kissed her cheek. It wasn’t like before. I wanted to believe that she knew it. I wasn’t sure if my heart was beating fast or if hers were but we were holding each other. We must have had the same heartbeat and the same intuition for what we wanted. It was before us. The sweetness in the air and the softness of our touch. She then leaned down and our mouths met. Hers was larger and overcame mine. Her tongue touched my braces. It must have tasted just like our candy. Sweet with the faintest hint of cold mint. My eyes were shut. They rolled around in joy. Our lips must be laced with our own candy as they took a second to part at last.
I could never doubt that the truth was so simple. We needed each other. The way we embraced was proof of this. If I wasn’t there, she would fall. If she wasn’t there, I couldn’t stand. It was stronger than any mere declaration of love could profess!
We waited in silence, save for the motions of our chests. My head was on her shoulder and she stroked my tumbleweed mane. The peppermint drops were coming along nicely. They were nearly risen and they were as white as snow save for the red peppermint on top. That was my doing. Isn’t it grand when two perfectly lovely things come together and make one complete whole? I’ve always thought so.
The End