Bed of Roses

by P-Berry

Rating: teen
Tags: Roseluck, Other, Romance, Anthro, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 4554

Laying in bed and contemplating your relationship with the girl of your dreams - what better way to start a Saturday morning?

It's so much easier to look back on your life and see the bright side of things when you have somebody by your side.

And at least for me, it's even easier when that somebody is a beautiful, red-haired girl named Roseluck.

Credit for the cover goes to Geeflakes, aka Arnachy.

Find a sequel here.

Published 2016-07-01 23:20:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-10-10 00:05:38 UTC

Bed of Roses

I awoke with a gasp as my eyes shot open; my heart was racing, and I was drenched in sweat. Catching my breath, I turned my head to the side, letting out a sigh of relief as I looked at the wall of my bedroom; the cream-colored wallpaper had a strangely soothing effect on my tortured mind.

I couldn’t remember what exactly I had dreamt. I knew it had involved her; she had been in danger – lost, kidnapped, maybe just sick. What mattered was that she had been in peril, and there was nothing that I could do to help her. I had to witness her suffering; stand through it; watch it without being able to do anything for her.

“Just … a dream.” I whispered to myself, shuddering as I rubbed my wet hands against the bed sheets, and tried to calm my breathing, “Just a dream.”

I rested a few more seconds until I couldn’t feel my heart pounding anymore, then, slowly, turned my head to the other side, looking at the far end of my bed.

In an instant, my heart began to race again, though it was a truly pleasant racing this time.

There she was.

Laying on the bed next to me, sleeping like the angel she was. Her bare body was half-covered by the bedding, the ruby blanket and white bed sheets engulfing her body like a velvet cocoon and, together with her cream-colored fur and red mane, making for a magnificent combination of colors in the golden light of the morning sun shining through the window.

Instinctively, without thinking about it, I could feel a smile grow on my face. Yes, if anything, the sight of her just made me feel more secure and comfortable. Knowing that she was here with me, and that I was here with her … it just filled me with a warmth I had never known before.

To be honest, if somebody had told me that I would here just a few years ago, I would have declared them insane. Me? In a relationship? Yeah, when hell freezes over. Maybe.

Back then, the only sorts of ‘relationships’ I had ever had had been limited to regular texting, exchanging a hug every now and then, and the occasional snuggling on the sofa –and even these relationships hadn’t lasted long- but aside from that, there had been nothing. Even less than nothing. There had been a lot of girls I was interested in, but most of them either weren’t interested, had a boyfriend, or –as in a more recent case- liked me, but then realized they liked girls even more, and thus left me for my attractive neighbor girl.

So yes, the chances that I would find someone who genuinely liked me –and whom I genuinely liked as well- were what, one in a million? A billion, perhaps?

Either way, I would have never believed that it could actually happen, but … well, here I was.

I looked at her again, allowing my eyes to travel down her body, over her bust, her back, down to her legs, and finally up to her face again. I took a deep breath – while the air in our bedroom was a little musty, all I could sense was her scent – roses. She had yet to tell me how she managed to keep this scent without any special perfumes or shampoos, but right now, I couldn’t have cared less. Closing my eyes and taking another deep breath, I could feel delight washing over me.

I found it quite amazing how just laying there, watching her, filled me with more joy than I could have ever imagined.

Yes, I was one lucky guy to have found her.

Keeping my look on her, and feeling sleep wash over me once again, I allowed my eyes to drift close, thinking of this one fateful day when I had first met her.

It was a sticky afternoon in midsummer. Temperature had exceeded 90 degrees hours ago; my boss, being the kind, caring gentleman he was, had told me to come to work and fill in for him earlier because ‘he wasn’t feeling well’ – despite him posting pictures of him laying at the beach on the internet just minutes later.

Suffice it to say that I wasn’t too happy about having to work on this very day – the fact that the air conditioner in the grocery store where I was working as a cashier had bitten the dust the day before, and that my company’s guidelines wouldn’t allow short pants at the workplace didn’t really add to my mood.

Needless to say that the day dragged on like any other Monday – customers came and went; some complained about the 'terrible' weather, others about the 'awful' lack of air conditioning, and some about me being rude and ‘not really courteous’.

Hell if I cared. I was toiling away at what felt like a hundred degrees, was paid even less than minimum wage, and by god had better things to do on this hot, sticky summer day, so anything that went further than scanning customers’ articles and taking their money was way beyond my responsibilities, in my opinion.

The day dragged on like this. Maybe it was my bad karma, maybe just reports of a severe tropical storm coming up, but the stream of customers stocking up on supplies simply wouldn’t end. Normally I would end up with at least a few moments of time to breathe, but on this day it was all just one constant flow of people entering and leaving the store.

And then I saw her.

I don’t know why, but somehow she immediately caught my eye. Maybe because she appeared to be the only person smiling in between the mass of sweating, complaining customers. She was wearing a simple white tank top in combination with a set of beige shorts – as odd as it may sound, coming from a male, I couldn’t help but envy her in this very second: my legs felt like they were being cooked in the long, heavy-duty black pants my employer expected me to wear during my shift.

Like mesmerized, I watched her walk through the entrance door, entering the shopping area, walking past the crowd that had gathered around a single running fan next to the entrance. Seeming to look for something, she turned her head, her look wandering over the masses of people, the cash registers, before it came to rest on me for just a second, and I swear her smile widened ever so slightly.

I could feel my heart flutter – a feeling I was whole-heartedly surprised about, seeing how I hadn’t felt anything quite like this for about three years by then.

But I did my best to keep a cool head and forced a smile onto my face – greeting our customers with a smile was something my boss had beaten into me ever since my first day, and while I most certainly didn’t feel like smiling, given my current situation, I had no problems returning the smile this beautiful girl was giving me.

It probably lasted less than a second, but I felt like time had come to a halt, and it wasn’t until she had turned her head back again to proceed with her purchase that I noticed the long line of waiting customers that had formed in front of my register.

With a sigh, I got back to work, falling back into the monotonous rhythm of scanning and registering as if nothing had happened. She probably gave anyone she saw that smile, anyway.

Minutes later -I had almost forgotten about our short encounter earlier- I was back in my regular working speed – scan, tell customers their total, take their money, repeat. The line behind my cash register had grown noticeably during the past minutes. As a reaction to that, one of my colleagues had come from the employee lounge and had –not without calling me an ‘unable slowpoke’- opened up a second cash register opposite to mine, making the lion’s share of customers race to the other belt like a horde of wild boars, all trying to be first.

I rolled my eyes, knowing that, in the end, all this pushing and shoving would use them nothing at all, only worsening their mood instead.

However, I was a little surprised as I saw that not only some, but all the customers waiting in my line had moved over to the new line – all except for one, that is.

“Oh.” The girl from before noted with a surprised, but pleased smile, “Guess that means I’m next.”

I could feel my heart skip a beat at the sudden turn of events. Sure, I had expected her to come to the checkout at some point, but somehow … somehow her appearance had still caught me off-guard.

”Y-yeah…” I stuttered, feeling my ears turn red as she placed her groceries –a bottle of water, a pack of chewing gum and some apples- on the belt next to me, “Just … hand me your things and I’ll … scan them.” I said with a dorky smile, “’cause … that’s what I do. … My job, and all.” I sighed at my own stupidity, dropping my head, then shaking it, “I’m sorry. I’ll shut up and work now.”

But she just giggled lightly – a sound that sent a shiver down my spine, and made me grin like the idiot I was. “Don’t worry about it.” She said in that sweet, soothing voice of hers, “I’m in no hurry.”

I tried to control myself, but couldn’t hold back a snarky, “Then you’re in the wrong store. This place is ruled by douchebags.” However, quickly realizing just what I had said, I forced my mouth close and lowered my head, scanning her groceries and muttering a muffled, “I … I’m sorry.”

And again, I was surprised to hear her lighthearted giggle, and looked back up again. “I know, right?” she said with a cheeky grin, “I don’t know why, but people seem to get especially moody on days as hot as this one.”

“Tell me about it.” I said with a resigned huff, “You’re the first customer who actually smiled when you came in.”

“Well, you looked like you could use it.” She countered without hesitation, that very same cheerful smile back on her face again.

I raised an eyebrow, looking up at her in confusion. “Excuse me?”

She tilted her head to the side, “Well, you were looking a little…” she paused, seeming to search for the right term, “peeved when I saw you earlier…”

I winced, feeling an unreasonable amount of shame from the thought of her seeing me treat customers like the … well, peeved cashier I was.

“So I thought you could use a little … encouragement.” She finished her sentence with a warm smile on her face.

Again, I looked up at her, cocking an eyebrow. “But … why?” I couldn’t help but ask, feeling more than just a little stupid for doing so.

“Why not?” she countered innocently, leaving me at a loss of words, not only because of her surprisingly simple but effective reasoning, but also because of her stunningly beautiful smile.

After a short period of silence –which was a lot more awkward for me than it was for her- it was her who spoke up again. “So,” she said, pointing at her groceries laying ready on the conveyor belt next to me, “How much would that be?”

Blushing, I looked at the cash register’s screen in front of me, then stuttered, “T-two-thirty, please.”

“Sure.” She said with a smile as she pulled a small wallet from the pocket of her pants and handed me a single bill; I gave her her change, she picked up her goods, but didn’t leave just yet.

Seeming to wait for something, she gave me a friendly, but questioning look and asked, “So, would that be everything?”

I could feel my throat getting tighter as my heart began to beat a lot faster than what must have been healthy. Was she implying what I thought she was implying? I looked her in the eyes, trying hard not to choke on my own breath. Yes. Yes, she was. She was waiting for something. Something coming from me.

Unfortunately for both of us, she had chosen to speak to the most oblivious, incapable and overall stupid cashier in the whole land.

As the silence between us dragged on, and my mental discomfort was starting to grow into a physical pain, I saw myself forced to say something, anything, and curtly decided to sputter out the first thing on my mind.

“Y-yes.” I breathed, blushing intensely, “That should be all … m’lady.”

I wanted to smash my head against the cash register until I had beaten all the stupidity out of it, but couldn’t get myself to do it, and had to watch helplessly as she, replying with a mildly disappointed, but still friendly, “Okay then. Bye!” turned around and walked out of the store.

I let out a deep, defeated sigh as I dropped my head onto the register’s scanner, feeling a little drowsy from the impact.

“And the award for the screw-up of the century goes to…” I heard my own voice echoing in my mind. I could feel the stares of the customers that had formed a new line during my short encounter with the red-haired girl drilling into me, clearly not happy with my sudden outbreak and involuntary pause, but I didn’t care in the slightest.

It wasn’t until a few moments later that I looked up again and my eyes spotted the faintest trace of a red tail disappearing through the front door, and my mind –drowning in disappointment and self-loathing- was suddenly enlightened by a new thought: “She’s still here. It’s not too late yet!”

Without wasting even one more thought on all the ways this could go wrong, I jumped up from my chair, left my position at the registers, ran past the customers who were commenting on my sudden escape with –who could have guessed it- annoyance and shouts of dismay, and out of the front entrance, almost crashing into the awfully slowly moving glass doors in the process.

I could feel a new wave of adrenaline hit me as I spotted her walking over the parking lot, her groceries tucked in a small paper bag under her right arm.

Making the hasty –and in retrospect wise- decision to not think twice about what I would do next, I caught up to her and, breathing heavily, shouted, “E-excuse me!”

She stopped – a first success for me. She turned around, saw me, and didn’t run away in horror from the sweaty grocery clerk who came running after her like a maniac – so far, so good.

She caught my look with her awfully beautiful green eyes and … smiled! She was smiling!

“Yes?” she asked me as I came to a halt next to her, sweating profusely and puffing like a grampus.

“You…” I started, straightening myself up, “You, uh…” I felt like fainting as I came to realize that I had no proper reason to name for coming running after her. Of course, I could go all in and tell her the truth; that I liked her and didn’t want to let her go just like that, but even in my adrenaline-induced rush I had enough reasoning in me to think of something better.

Wildly rummaging through my pockets with my hands, I continued, “You, uh, you forgot…“ a voice in my head let out a cry of victory as my fingers got hold of a crumbled-up piece of paper in my back pocket, which I hastily pulled out and presented to the beautiful girl. “You forgot your receipt!” I almost shouted, feeling unreasonably proud of this sudden idea. Of course, the paper in my hand wasn’t her receipt; I wasn’t even sure if it was a receipt at all, and I knew that I’d be doomed if she would take a closer look at it, but I didn’t care in this moment.

“Oh.” She said with a surprised look, but then gave me a grateful smile, “Thank you, but I really don’t need it. Feel free to throw it away.” She explained calmly.

Slowly, my hand holding the paper in front of her sank, and the proud smile slipped from my face. “Oh.” I said, trying hard to keep my poise up, but failing rather miserably. “Alright then.” I stored the paper back in my pocket, hoping for the ground to open up and swallow me right there. The sheer awkwardness of this moment could not be put in words.

“But…” she spoke up again, saving me before I could break into another tirade of self-loathing, “Thank you for reminding me of it, and coming after me.” She said with a genuinely grateful nod of her head, “I think I owe you.”

“Oh no,” I said, quickly shaking my head, “don’t worry about it.” I said with a slightly forced smile, “It was my pleasure.”

“No, really.” She insisted, “How about I invite you to dinner?”

I could feel my legs wanting to give out on me – and not only because they must be not only medium rare, but well done by now. “Uhh…” I muttered, the sudden change of situations having caught me so off-guard it would have thrown me off my feet if they hadn’t been welded on to the burning hot asphalt underneath my soles.

“Come on, my friends always complement me on my cooking-skills.” She explained, not without at least a little bit of pride in her voice, “I’d love to hear your opinion.”

“O-okay.” I stuttered, still dumbfounded, but nonetheless happy with this unexpected turn of events, “Sure. Why not?”

“Alright!” she said; her eyes began to shine as the smile on her face grew by at least three times, “Does tomorrow work out for you?”

I nodded numbly.

“Sweet!” she exclaimed happily, and I swear she had to contain herself to not jump with excitement. “Be at my place at seven, okay?” She pulled a small piece of paper –which, in retrospect, I’m sure she must have prepared beforehand, maybe even expecting an outcome like this- from the back pocket of her pants and handed it to me. “This is my address, and my phone number. See you tomorrow!”

She wanted to turn away, but stopped in the process, and looked back over her shoulder, “And by the way…” she said with a cheeky wink, “My name is Roseluck. Thought you might want to know.”

And with that, she turned around and walked away, though not without giving me another wink over her shoulder, and left me standing on the parking lot like thunderstruck, baking in the burning sun, with only one thought running through my mind - a realization that in itself was so hard to believe I had to repeat it to myself a couple of times just to fully understand it.

Looking after her, then at the paper in my hand, I muttered, “I … have a date?”

I felt a smile cross my face as I thought back to this day. About three years had passed since then. Three of the best years of my whole life, if I may add.

Sure, I had been hesitant at first, simply because I had never met a girl quite like Roseluck. She was beautiful, smart, interesting, energetic but not hyperactive, unique… I could go on like this for hours.

Once it had become clear that she felt the same way about me as I felt about her, our relationship had become a lot more, say, intense. Everything we could do together, we did together, and everything we couldn’t, we tried to avoid as best as possible. Of course, both of us still had our friends, and enjoyed spending time with them instead of each other, but in the end I had come to enjoy every second I could spend with her to the fullest.

Just like right now.

I turned my head to the side again, looking at her sleeping form laying next to me, and couldn’t contain a smile.

While I would have never expected it, it had been interesting getting to know everything about her – that she had grown up in a small town called Ponyville a few miles away; that gardening was one of her biggest hobbies; that her favorite flowers were –who knew?- roses, and that her two best friends –just like her- had names related to flowers, and were just as interested in gardening as her.

If anyone else had told me this much about their lives, I would have kindly asked them to stop, as god knows I had more important things to worry about in my life, but with her, things were … different. It had been a pleasure hearing her talk – the fact that I got to know her had been a pleasant side-effect, but by all means, she could have also told me about the mating habits of earthworms and I would have listened just as closely.

Though, to be honest, up to this day I could not explain what it was she liked about me. I wasn’t a super model, neither was I a top-manager or a Nobel Prize winner; my car was old, my house was small; I was neither sportive, nor creative, nor skilled with sciences or languages in any way.

So what was it that made her stick with me?

Really, I couldn’t tell.

And I had never cared, to be honest. Just like I wouldn’t look a gifted horse in the mouth, I wouldn’t question her affection towards me. I liked her, loved her, even, and she had proven often enough that she felt the same way about me, so why try to explain something that didn’t need explaining.

But all the same, I couldn’t deny that this train of thought had prompted a few truly uncomfortable questions in my mind.

If I couldn’t name a single reason why she would want to stay with me, then … what reason had she to do so? What stopped her from just leaving and finding somebody richer, somebody more attractive, somebody … better?

Even though I was laying down, I could feel my heart sink; the ground seemed to slip from underneath my body. Yes, what if she would realize that a girl like her could easily find someone better than me and leave me? I felt a shiver run through my body as my mind created images of her breaking up with me, telling me that she deserved better; that I wasn’t worthy of her, and that she would start looking for somebody else … or even that she already was dating someone else behind my back.

How would I handle that? What would my friends say? Or my family? The one guy, once the eternal single, then on cloud nine, having finally found the right one, now single again? I would be devastated – not as much because of being single again –I loved Roseluck and wouldn’t trade my relationship with her for the world, but I had to admit that single life did have some benefits- but because I would be without her; because I would never be with her again!

I felt a sudden ache in my heart as the mental images of her leaving me became more detailed: how would she do it? Sensitive and empathetic, maybe?

“I’m sorry, but … I just don’t think the two of us have a future. I hope you understand and … I hope you’re not mad at me. Maybe we can stay friends?” I could hear her say in my mind.

Or would she do it quick and easy? Something like, “I think we should break up. Okay?”

Or, knowing her easy-going and light-hearted personality, it’d probably be something like, “By the way, I don’t love you anymore.” My mind pictured her saying in her cheerful, carefree voice, “I hate you, and I never want to see you again. Bye, asshole.”

I felt a sudden pang shoot through my heart. Of all the ways she could break up with me, this must be the most painful. Though, no matter in what way, the thought of her leaving me sent my mind to places I didn’t want it to go, and I had to clench my teeth and close my eyes to end that train of thought there and then.

Slowly opening my eyes again and looking over to her, I shook my head and muttered, “Nonsense.” As if to convince myself, “The mere thought of that is just stupid, right?” I said to myself, but couldn’t deny that a last bit of insecurity was remaining in the back of my mind. “Right?”

Carefully, I reached out my shaking hand, and led it to hers which was resting on the bed next to her body, then grabbed it and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I love you…” I whispered, feeling tears in my eyes, “More than anything else. Please don’t leave me.”

I gave an involuntary wince as her body slowly started moving, and could feel my heart flutter as her hand returned the gentle squeeze.
With a soft moan, her head turned to face me, and she slowly opened her eyes.

“Good morning, sweetie.” Roseluck said, her voice softer than velvet, as she gave me a smile that could make rocks melt, “Slept well?”

And all of a sudden, my mind was free again – free from all the fears, all the doubts, and all the worries. That look in her eyes blew away all my worries with ease; it told me everything I needed to know – she loved me, just the way I loved her. And that was all I needed.

Thoughts of what lay ahead of us now filled my mind – pleasant thoughts, replacing the dark images of what I had thought about earlier; I thought of what our future might look like; of all the possibilities this world held in store for us, of all the things we could do together … and of the ring that was laying safely hidden in the back of my car’s glove compartment.

Again, I felt a sudden surge of joy rush through me. Yes, soon I would do it. Surprise her with two first-class tickets to a sunny destination somewhere in the South Sea, take her to a five-star hotel, and then, when the right time had come, I would do it.

I would propose to her. Make her a proper woman. Make her a wife. Make her … my wife.

Again, I looked back at her, and could feel how all the sorrow, all the worries fell off my back like pieces of dried dirt. The gray clouds in my mind were gone now, and all I could see was her.

And I couldn’t be happier about it.

Author's Note

Roseluck doesn't get enough love. That's all.