“Would you mind if I use your bathroom?”

A small voice inside Sunset wanted to say yes, but that seemed unreasonably cruel. Instead she pointed out the open door. “It’s on the left.” Part of her felt stupid: it’s not like her one-bed-one-bath was any place to get lost.

Adagio thanked her and disappeared around the corner. A not-so-distant fan spluttered to life.

Body fully satiated, her mind wandered into uncomfortable territory. Sunset didn’t know why she lied earlier; it wasn’t a big deal that she went home and retrieved the underwear before their meeting. Why wouldn’t she want Adagio to know that?

Sprawled naked on her sheets, Sunset busied herself in finding defects to be ashamed of in her bedroom. The barren walls, the unbalanced desk, the laundry piled on top of a capsized hamper.

Definitely a much better use of her returning mental faculties.

The adjacent door squeaked open; Sunset scrambled to sit up, despite the protest of many tender bits.

Adagio stopped between the two rooms, obscured in the shadow but Sunset took in all she could. She padded into the room, eyes roving. She toggled the light switch.

“I know.” Shamed, check. “It’s not very bright.”

The inquisitive hand dropped to Adagio’s side. She said nothing. The tension mounted, surging back into place as if nothing had budged it to begin with.

Then: “I should get out of your hair. Time, sleep, school and all.”

Sunset felt only mild disappointment. “Oh… Did you want to take a shower first?” she cast out, though hoping for rejection.

At the thought, Adagio’s cheeks puffed out slightly; it was incredibly cute. Finally she sighed, “No, it’s alright. I won’t want to put my clothes back on if I’m cleaner than they are.”

Neither wanted to suggest obvious solutions, so both girls looked down stiffly. Adagio went around and collected her clothes. The mattress creaked as she sat down on the very edge to put her shoes on.

Sunset, impressed, watched the shaking siren pull her hoodie over all that hair and into place.

She coughed, looking out the window into the night. It’s pretty late now. Steeling herself, asked: “Are you going to be warm enough out there?” On a whim she pinched the threadbare material, only now recognizing the sweatshirt’s indecorous state.

“This thing has gotten me through worse,” Adagio replied, with neither venom nor vigor. Her smile was very unconvincing.

It wasn’t like it was any of her business… but Sunset crawled over to the headboard and removed a light blue throw blanket draped over the tarnished metal. “Here, it’s not much but it’s enough to stave off the worst of the wind.” Unfurling it for the other girl to see, she continued, “With any luck, if you walk through the park with it over your shoulders, nobody’ll bother you.”

“Right, because they’re going to think I’m crazy,” Adagio deadpanned, her head lolling slightly to the side to accent her skepticism.

“Which you are!” Sunset exclaimed brightly. At least one of us has to be: why else would you be here? “Or you would be if you don’t take it.”

Warily eyeing her, the older girl reached out and stroked the proffered item with a slow, careful slide of her hand. “Are you sure? This must a nightmare to clean.”

“Stop overthinking,” Sunset shrugged. She folded the plush blanket over Adagio’s wrist, swinging the bulk of it around her waist and pulling it taut. “Take it.”

Adagio’s quick exhale tickled her face. Sunset shivered against the cold clothes pressing into her front, yet refused to give an inch to the women she had ensnared.

The only answer she would accept was the breathless “Okay” that followed.

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Alone again, Sunset readied herself for a late night of compensatory studying. First chem, now this. This was no way for a valedictorian candidate to act.

The silence was back. If it was unbearable in Adagio’s presence, it was even more so with no soft body to stifle the sound of her beating heart. That’s just what hearts do though - it’s natural that they beat rhythmically; there was nothing about the phenomenon that was affected in any way. No, her body had reverted to its baseline activity, the rush of chemicals has receded, and she caught her breath.

Still… no longer warmed by blissful friction and hormones, she felt terrible, cold, and gross.

Padding out to check the main door, she scurried to endure a quick shower. Not bothering to close the door behind her, she turned the faucet as hot as it would go - having just depleted the water heater several hours earlier, it was bound to be less-than-scalding.

Coated in dried sweat and lust, her skin became slick instantly. Once she was fully immersed, she planned to stay as long as she could. Lukewarm quickly turned to steaming, a rather pleasant surprise in lieu of the numbness that threatened to overwhelm her. She sighed, leaning her head against the plastic wall, shivering when the water saturated her hair and trickled behind her ears, moaning as her scalp burned.

Her eyes stung with exhaustion, but there was no time for that. Mentally listing the things she should have done for tomorrow, the stubborn unicorn could collapse from the weight of busywork.

The temperature in the stall dropped steadily and she cursed herself for letting the steam out so rapidly. Living alone taught her bad habits. She lathered quickly so she could get clean. Y’know, the actual point of said shower. She sighed again.

No longer soapy, her frantic hands slowed. She hadn’t stopped earlier, but standing now under the tepid deluge, Sunset conscientiously appreciated the subtle soreness of her body. The mild ache in muscle tissue she had no control over. It was all still very new to her.

In the chill, she curiously ran her palm over a tightening nipple. She gasped as it shocked a new warmth through her. She hurried to bed.

Laid upon a pair of towels, she tried her damnedest to exercise control on her muscles. She flexed and relaxed as best she could, but all she accomplished was needing to use the bathroom again. It didn’t make her feel sexy and her arousal started to wane.

She gave up the efforts to train the recalcitrant flesh. It was frustrating, to say the least.

Thoughtlessly, her hands drifted to caress her body, luxuriating in the feeling of being clean and smooth. Homework could wait. She wagged an imaginary tail, gradually stretching the kinks in her back and shoulders. Thoughtlessly, her mind drifted back to a short time ago when someone else was helping her stretch. Bringing a hand to her mouth, she licked a fingertip and guided it to her clit.

In spite of being very naked, their bodies were so very warm. As nice as her hot breath had been on her leg, Adagio’s sharp tongue was extremely pleasurable this time around. Sunset shivered at the memory and those same intractable muscles rippled in sympathy.

She groaned, pressing a finger into her vagina, only slightly flustered at the heat she found. In short moments, she began to imagine Adagio performing the actions that moved her body, drawing on the visceral memory of the woman’s experienced touches; of her light hands, her hot mouth.

Sunset, straddling the other girl’s face, spread her knees on command. It was all she could do to stay up when soft lips tickled up her thighs and laid a wet kiss on the crux that separated her leg from her loins. She burned a wild, desperate need before Adagio relented and tasted her in earnest.

In real time, she swiveled her hips to glean all the pleasure she could from her own hands. Her heels dug into the mattress; her back arched.

Illusory-Adagio slipped another finger in her. Sunset tried to return the sentiment. Gasping for breath, she lowered her head to graze Adagio’s taint from the inside. Moans filled the room as she pistoned her tongue in and out of the siren.

An unexpected surge threw her onto the bed and the ancient sea-monster mounted her properly. Laying on her back, Sunset was vulnerable to whatever the yellow-skinned human wanted to inflict unto her. She shuddered with nerves. Fingers lined themselves at her entrance. The hand was controlled by the upright girl’s pelvic bone. Adagio directed the pace and the depth of her thrusts with minute shifts of her hips.

Lungs ached with exertion; she couldn’t take much more. Memory and desire intertwined seamlessly, she couldn’t care for such fine distinctions.

Shimmering gold scales roared and snapped Sunset out of her fantasy, but it was too late. Orgasm rippled around her fingers as she bit her lip, refusing to alert the neighbors.

Sweet oxygen rejoined her as she whispered comparably sweet nothings into the cool night air. She shone with a new layer of sweat, but it was clean and well-deserved; it could stay.

Wiping her hands on the towels, she curled up and let sleep take her.

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Damp. This is not okay.

Waking up never used to be a difficult task… but there was something about being tangled in wet towels which didn’t quite cover everything that she didn’t quite love. Rather than feeling rested and relaxed, she only felt unproductive and irritated at wasting time. She fumbled to get up. She still had homework to do.

Her foot has the unfortunate luck of kicking a cup over. Her other foot naturally followed suit and only managed to mire itself into the tepid pool forming on the floor. This did a much better job of rousing her than drinking the coffee would have.

“Crap.” The puddle was stopped by a mound of clothes.

When her brain caught up with the events, she felt exceedingly stupid; the desk was barely more than an arm’s length away.

Hell, Sunset didn’t know why she bought another cup. It was just a ploy to fill the gap, buy another twenty minutes with Adagio - Another ‘why’ I’ll never understand - and sit in the company of someone else.

Picking up the cup and using her already-sodden skirt to soak up most of the mess; she retrieved the mop. Donning her pajamas with a sigh of defeat, she took a quick look around. It has to be done.

She stripped the sheets, dumped everything into the basket, and set off to start a load of laundry.

And maybe a third shower before morning.

Adagio Dazzle kept sleeping with the enemy.

Except she wasn’t the enemy. In fact, she was quite nice and it took all of Adagio’s strength to not run out of her apartment.

Except they didn’t sleep together. Of course, it certainly wasn’t lovemaking, but it wasn’t nearly as vindictive or malicious as their previous get-together.

That didn’t go as planned.

She had retreated to her room as soon as she got home, neither snooping inquisition nor snide inferences could extract her from self-imposed exile. Both of her roommates saw her come home. Aria looked away from the door as soon as Adagio poked in. Sonata had at least been pretending to look at the textbook. Their homework spread over the coffee table the same as when she’d left hours before.

She leaned back on her own door, blocking out the very similar position she was in not too long ago. Knees buckled under the weight of startlingly familiar turmoil. She did not have the mettle to move any deeper into the room - not when the bed looked so far and uninviting.

She felt crying would be appropriate at this time, but the pressure that would force itself on the inside of her ribs was missing so she didn’t. The former megalomaniac sighed in frustration, tracing the steps and missteps of the day.

Adagio had been in no mood to weather Aria’s insufferable I-told-you-so smirk when the two came back from school. She waited in front of the driveway until the car pulled to the curb. Sonata skipped past with a kiss on her cheek, but she was focused on the laconic siren whom she approached: hand out, palm up, eyes averted.

She drove for miles. She left the city far behind. Hood up, windows down, wind whipping all around her. Tears would fill her eyes and refuse to fall; she hoped for rain in the face of the sunny afternoon.

Navigating serpentine back roads of the remote mountainside slowly, she could dispel the terrible emotions that eroded her sanity. It was her and the road, the trees and the air.

Then her phone had rung and she knew there would be no peace for her. Pulling over, she saw a familiar number flash across her screen. She had sighed, instinctively annoyed with Sonata for not returning a book.

Hanging up, Adagio laughed now. Luck would have it that the girl she lost her nerve to would be so crafty.

Truthfully there wasn’t a definite goal for the evening. All the serenity she had composed during the drive propelled her the entire way to the park, to the coffeehouse, to bed. Sex most likely complicated the situation.

A booming knock came through the door, contrasted by the soft voice that followed. “Hi, AD… it’s AB.”

It was the way Aria approached when she was trying to be playful. Adagio hadn’t heard it in years and though the silly little thing made her feel better, she didn’t want company. The call went unresponded.

It didn’t take long for the knob to jiggle, and though she overlooked locking the door, it wouldn’t budge.

“C’mon Adagio, let me in.” There was another push, this one strong enough to inch the sitting girl forward. She dug her heel into the carpet and pushed back. “I have to talk to you about something.”

“No!” her throat strained, feeling rawer than when she’d had her pendant shattered. “Go away!”

The hesitation was palpable, her mind’s eye could see the girl who’d become closer than kin scowl and take a deep swallow before she heard the fading footsteps. She breathed in relief. If anyone could read her like a book, it would be Aria.

“Dagi!” Apparently her hell was not over. Another voice sang through the solid wood, “Ari wants to talk to me ‘cause you won’t talk to her and it’s scaring me!”

“I don’t care Sonata!” she screamed into the room, not really caring how muffled it would sound. “Don’t talk to her then.”

There was some quiet scratching and then, “Oww! Aria hit me, she said I was messing up your veneer.” Sonata had a gift to make every other word sound like a whine. “She also said not to bother you while you’re crying, but you can talk to me.”

“I’m not crying now go the fuck away.” She willed her command to carry the implication they wouldn’t get another word out of her.

At the sound of the wall-to-wall carpet’s life shortening, Adagio mentally swore at Sonata’s immature fits; if it didn’t contradict her desired implication, she would’ve yelled about walking properly.

Reaching up to lock the door, her hand returned to rub her eyes: looking for evidence that she wasn’t crying. She didn’t find it.

“Great.”

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When the salty residue caked around her eyes irritated her enough, Adagio searched her pocket for a handkerchief. Only after she’d already wiped her face did she take notice that she wasn’t using any sort of kerchief.

Unfolding the lace pattern with a modest disgust, she was casually surprised by how black it was.

She had almost forgotten about her lost panties, and truthfully did not expect them back. She didn’t expect the other girl to keep them. She’d left that night and considered things to be settled: they each lost an article of clothing.

"Besides, you owe me a pair."

And now... Adagio's thought trailed off as she fingered the soft shroud laid over her frame. Now, she possessed something that belonged to Sunset. It was generosity Adagio in no way deserved. Not for the first time, the girl felt like a shell of her former self. She shrugged it off. It seemed late to feel guilty.

But Adagio did feel guilty. For leading her friends down the path that ended in their defeat. For her subsequent petty behavior that led her to whatever the hell is going on now. For leaving Sunset’s torn and unsalvageable panties in the dirt and not taking them home with her - which was frankly an idiotic notion on its own, let alone something to feel badly about.

It wasn’t just the panties, or the blanket she had given so unselfishly, or the two cups of coffee, or the fun sexy time and subsequent free range of her bathroom. Though that was all appreciated accordingly. Sunset Shimmer gave Adagio a new companion who knew of home. She gave away a secret that must have burdened her for years.

Then, she intimated something she hadn’t even told her friends! There was power in knowledge and she’d relinquished it. Readily, willingly, freely. The simplicity of the truth brought fresh tears to Adagio’s eyes.

She laid on her side and wept into the carpet.

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Crying alone on the floor of her bedroom, fully dressed and feeling a coldness that no amount of tucking into herself - and not for lack of trying - would assuage: it was clearly a prolific way to waste a lot of time. Adagio stayed thusly for hours, unable to make herself get up. It was simultaneously restful and tiring, though perhaps not at the same rate.

In any case, she was hungry and she needed a shower, but those were secondary to her urgent need to die slowly in the fetal position.

Maybe Sonata was the smart one, hoarding random snacks all over her room for ‘emergencies’ - whatever that meant.

Bleary-eyed, she took stock of her own opulent surroundings. Closing her eyes, she revisited the small apartment.

Candles were littered throughout Sunset Shimmer’s bathroom. Adagio had smelled one and found it unscented. It wasn’t something she noticed upon arrival, but after a brief scan, it had become clear that various candles were a central running theme to the home.

As bare as Sunset’s room was, she couldn’t claim her own held any more personality. There was no motif, no rhyme or reason. All the furnishings matched and complemented the area. It was picturesque as a luxury suite might be, and were it not for her insignia emblazoned coyly on several items, she might have been fooled.

There were no posters of concerts attended or performed; no kitschy souvenirs of perfect journeys with perfect strangers; no trunk of admirers’ tokens which were any enchantress’ birthright to cache.

Who was she anymore? Had she changed after the loss of her magic, or was this always bubbling beneath the surface? Does it even matter?

Cried out, she felt as cold and lonely as ever.

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The ground, plushness aside, began to hurt her skeletal structure. A deep breath soothed overworked lungs; she held it as long as she could.

Slowly, she relaxed her chest in concert with pushing arms. Adagio knelt victoriously as the last of the air was forced out. Inch by inch she drudged at her bed, uninspired to stand and take the few steps.

By the time she pulled herself onto the queen-size mattress, she was appreciative enough for the pants she wore to let them stay. Shortly thereafter she recognized the further indifference toward the rest of her attire and knew she wouldn’t be bothered to take anything off. Far-from-flat on the covers and lying at a queer angle, Adagio grabbed blindly at a pillow and dragged it under her.

Her body was leaden with fatigue, but as overly dramatic as the excessive crying felt she could not deny the results. Swollen eyes and sniffles were outweighed by the chemical respite they afforded her.

The steady rhythm of her breathing coaxed a gentle movement; her chest felt raw from suppressing sobs, lest she be heard by the others. She’d never live it down. Worse yet, they might offer understanding. What good it would be for those two to understand what she herself can hardly wrap her mind around.

Yawning unexpectedly, beads of warmth sprang from her eyes. Dismayed at even more tears from such inoffensive stimuli, she was relieved in equal measure when more did not follow.

Of course she had experience with leaking from her eye holes, but it was usually done to manipulate a target. For a long time, all it took to sell a story was to be a young maiden in tears. She yawned again, this time immediately rubbing away the physiologically-induced moisture.

Still, she was ill at ease. Internally she warred over what to do with the cozy cloth still wrapped around her shoulders. Will Sunset want it back, or was it an awkward pity gift?

Is Adagio supposed to care about what the other girl wanted? Even without being enemies - not that she could tell how Sunset felt about their entire liaison in one way or another - they certainly were no manner of friends. Hell, she hardly cared what Aria or Sonata wanted most of the time.

Maybe it should go into the back of the closet until further notice. Or be discarded in some manner.

No, she decided at last. I’ll just hold onto it until she asks for it back.

For the first time in nearly a week, Adagio slept soundly through the night. She gave in and nuzzled deeply into the sea-green blanket, breathing in the scent of her non-enemy.

In her dreams danced a pair of sand-colored creatures. See you soon, my little pony.

Author's Note

Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain.