Ssskrap. Ssskrap. Ssskrap.
The sound of the wooden spoon scraping the plastic bowl was a nasty one, Lyra thought to herself. Maybe it was the hours she was spending in her kitchenette trying to make chocolate pudding getting to her.
Ssskrap. Ssskrap. Ssskrap.
Lyra used her magic to hold the spoon to mix the pudding. The process had been a monotonous task. Pour cocoa powder and cold milk into a bowl. Stir mixture until somewhat firm.
Ssskrap. Ssskrap. Ssskrap.
Lyra's eyes burned. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. How long had she been up, anyway? She tried to recall the last time she slept, but to no avail. She missed her large, poofy bed; her comfy, loving pillows; her soft, inviting blankets. Maybe she'd take a break.
...but for some reason, a thought in her head told her she couldn't.
Ssskrap. Ssskrap. Ssskrap.
Why was she doing this, then? Why stand almost completely still for what felt like hours just stirring pudding? Was it a defense mechanism? Maybe it was just a distraction. Probably both. Either way, she felt like she had to make the pudding. But why? Why did she feel this obligation to make pudding?
Ssskrap. Ssskrap. Ssskrap.
It was slowly coming back to her. Something about a carriage; a taxi, specifically. Something...something about Bon Bon. Yeah...they were in a taxi...but what happened before that?
Ssskrap. Ssskrap. Ssskrap.
...right. Lyra and Bon Bon just got out of the former's concert. Recital. Whatever. The terminology didn't matter. The performance had been wonderful, and Bonnie wanted to drag Lyra away from her colleagues for a 'special treat' for doing so well.
Ssskrap. Ssskrap. Ssskrap.
Damn special it was. The Greener Pasture might not have been a fancy restaurant or anything, being kin to a greasy diner, but it certainly served up the best soul food. Their oat burgers were nothing short of the best in Ponyville -- maybe even in all of Equestria. The thought of the food made Lyra's mouth salivate.
Ssskrap. Ssskrap. Ssskrap.
Then again, it wasn't the food that mattered to her. Bon Bon, out of all ponies, managed to get a reservation at The Greener Pasture and shared the table with Lyra. The unicorn couldn't have been more flattered or impressed. It wasn't exactly easy getting in, after all. The place was always flooded with hungry customers. But somehow...Bon Bon got a table. Lyra liked that about her. Bonnie was determined, if nothing else.
Ssskrap. Ssskrap. Ssskrap.
Come to think of it, Lyra really liked Bon Bon. Was it Lyra's fault? Bonnie was pretty -- those perfect tail curls, the mane colors, the way her coat made her eyes shine. She was talented, too. Certainly knew her way around a kitchen. Not to mention she wasn't completely crazy, something Lyra was guilty of. Plus, the girl was compassionate and amazingly tolerant. How Bon Bon put up with Lyra, the unicorn would never know.
Ssskrap. Ssskrap. Ssskrap.
It was after the burgers came, after the brief, awkward silences between each bite, after the odd stares sent back and forth. The two of them didn't really say anything. Lyra felt a vibe going on, like the two were somehow meant for each other. Were words needed for something as simple as...was it love? That might've been a bit much, but it certainly didn't feel like anything less.
Ssskrap. Ssskrap. Ssskrap.
It had to be love. Lyra looked down at the plain, ceramic plate before her. A chunk of burger, a couple of hay fries, a scrap of lettuce. She looked up and saw Bon Bon, who was raising an eyebrow.
Skrap skrap skrap skrap skrap skrap.
"Bonnie?" Lyra asked, peering into Bon Bon's eyes.
"Yes?" Bon Bon tilted her head. "You okay, Lyra?"
"Well, um...this is really nice and all, and I really can't thank you enough..." Lyra looked to her side.
"It's the least I could do, Lyra. You earned it, buddy." Bon Bon smiled.
Skrap skrap skrap skrap skrap skrap skrap skrap skrap.
"Bonnie?" Lyra looked Bon Bon in the eyes.
"Yes?" Bon Bon asked sweetly.
Skrapskrapskrapskrapskrapskrapskrap
"...I'm in love with you," Lyra muttered under her breath.
"I'm sorry; I don't think I caught that," Bon Bon said, innocent as ever.
Skrapskrapskrapskrapskrapskrapskrap
"I'm in love with you," Lyra mumbled.
Bon Bon frowned and raised an eyebrow. "Lyra, you really need to enunciate--"
Skrapskrapskrapskrapskrapskrapskrapskrapskrapskrapskrapskrapskrapskrapskrap
"It's nothing," Lyra said.
"Are you sure? You know you can always talk to me--"
"I'm fine."
The two sat as an awkward silence hung between them. While everypony around them chatted and dined casually, Lyra and Bon Bon just sat.
Lyra felt her heart sank. Bon Bon probably didn't love her. Cared for? Bon Bon definitely cared. But how could Lyra have been so foolish, so naïve to think Bon Bon would be able to reciprocate her feelings, let alone right then and there!?
The check came. Bon Bon paid for all of the bill, including the tip. The two mares left in silence. Out on the sidewalk, Bon Bon whistled for a taxi. One pulled over, and the both of the mares climbed in.
"Lyra, your performance tonight was amazing," Bon Bon said. "I really do enjoy your music."
"Thanks, Bonnie." Lyra looked out the window of the carriage half-heartedly.
"...so, what was concerning you back at Greener Pasture?" Bon Bon laid a hoof on Lyra's shoulder. "I'm always open to talk."
"Honestly, Bonnie...I don't even know if I should tell you." Lyra looked down.
"You can always tell me." Bon Bon tried to reassure Lyra with a small smile.
"...well, Bonnie...I kinda li--"
Loud screaming from outside the carriage pierced the walls and filled its insides.
Then the carriage crashed hard.
Clank! Clack.
Lyra threw the bowl of pudding at a wall and wiped the tears from her eyes. Her best friend was in the hospital, mortally wounded, probably going to die...and yet, Lyra couldn't do jack squat. She wasn't allowed to see Bon Bon. No visitations. Not even to drop off food or flowers.
She never got to say she loved her.
Lyra opened the cabinet above her and grabbed a bowl with her magic. She opened her fridge and grabbed out the milk carton. Closing it, she went into her pantry and grabbed the cocoa mix. She picked up the measuring cup from the counter, stained white from previous usage, and measured a cup of milk. With the carton emptied, she threw it into the trash. She emptied the cocoa mix into the bowl, grabbed a nearby spoon, and began stirring. Pudding would take her mind off of it.
Ssskrap. Ssskrap. Ssskrap.
