Via Prisma

   She set her book aside, neglecting to mark her page at all. "I was thinking. I'm all about numbers and systems and languages and accepted truths. You know that. And, while I guess I see this as a sort of system, it's... self-sufficient. It seems to lose meaning. In that it's not really based on anything, I mean."

   "Well," Rarity began slowly, "it's an art, darling. There are some things that just have to be taken for granted. That's why I'm teaching you prerequisites."

   Twilight leaned forwards in her seat, putting her head in her hands. "I know that, I think. But... it doesn't feel real to me." She sat back onto the throw pillows behind them both, staring solidly at the bookshelf in front of her. "I've read a lot of these books. Books can make things feel a lot more real than they are, even things beyond reality. High fashion and all that... there's no connection to reality. No struggle, no emotion. Nothing important."

   "I never knew you felt that way," Rarity murmured.

   "I dunno. It kinda clashes with everything else I do, doesn't it? My whole mindset, my ideology or whatever - I've heard it called 'spiritual math'." She giggled, and paused. "I don't buy into that." She glanced over. "I appreciate the help you're giving me. I'm just saying that I wouldn't have gotten this far by myself."

   A comfortable lull settled over the reading-nook. Rarity noticed her looking over, but instead examined the carpet. The last week had gotten a little strange for her, and she rather wanted to keep it in the past. Or, she thought as she met her gaze... did she really?

   "Listen," Twilight said, interrupting the quiet. "I've... never, um, done anything like this before."

   Rarity's heart skipped a beat, and then another, as a thousand possibilities skipped through her mind. And then, suddenly, as she caught her eyes again, her heart regulated and the flurry of maybes disappeared, and were replaced by something much more nebulous. The new feeling sent a whisper of a chill down her spine, and an abnormal heat blossomed through her chest. "... Anything like what?"

   Twilight finally broke eye contact, swallowing her lips. Then, she steeled herself. Rarity recognized this, and at that same moment placed a label on that obscure feeling that was now running wild through her. Expectation.

   She didn't even notice her lean in. She just felt that insane duality of hot and cold plateau within her as that delicate pressure on her lips - warm and personal, designed solely for this moment - cocooned her. Most surprisingly, she seemed comfortable, apt even, given that she'd probably never -

   "T-Twilight," she stammered, and placed a hand on her shoulder, pushing her away. Twilight said nothing, but flushed a furious red. Her mouth moved as though she was about to speak, but never did. Rarity suddenly winded, and that feeling of expectation dissipated. Or, rather, hid in her extremities, waiting hopefully for their spotlight to return. "We..." Can't do this, she was going to say, but trailed off instead. Shouldn't do this. Not with this dynamic.

   "Didn't you... kind of figure this was happening?" she asked, barely above a whisper.

   "No!" she cried. "... I don't know. Twilight, I'm frustrated," she replied, putting a hand to her chest and feeling her heartbeat. You're not frustrated. This isn't frustration.

   Twilight put a hand to her mouth - not cupped, but simply loose, confused - and looked away again, her face the same shade as before. "I'm s-sorry, Rarity," she stuttered.

   Rarity had never heard her stutter before. In the thin candlelight from the sconces on either side of them, she caught a flicker of wetness on her eyes. That was never intended. She never meant that. And just as quickly as she noticed it, Twilight wiped it away and stood in quick succession. "I'll see you later. S-sorry, again." She hurried to the end of her sentence and began to walk to her bedroom.

   "Twilight," Rarity called out, with no words to follow it up. But at least she stopped, and turned slightly, more to the bookcase than to Rarity. So she stood and walked over. "It's not - it's not a problem, okay? Please don't be upset."

   She still didn't look up, and a moment passed as she tried to respond. Slowly, that feeling worked its way back. Twilight was almost an inch shorter than her, and hunched over seemed even smaller; the compulsion rose to take her by the shoulders and embrace her and never allow her to be upset again. But that's not healthy, is it?

   Finally, she glanced up, but only for a moment. "I thought that we were thinking the same thing. That's all." Her voice was taut. "I've never done anything like that before, so - so it was probably weird. Sorry."

Prove me wrong, she thought desperately, that heat creeping back into her abdomen. "... Kiss me."

   Twilight looked up, a spark of hope in her deep amethyst eyes, and then pursed her lips. "You don't have to tease me."

   "I'm - I'm not teasing, Twilight." The words spilled out of her mouth before she could filter them. "I can't take the wheel here. I don't know why. So kiss me." Seeing confusion on her face, edging ever closer to a conclusion, she pressed a little more, down into the depths and desperations of that feeling. "... Please."

   So, stepping awkwardly closer and placing an apprehensive hand on her cheek, she did.

   The ice and fire returned almost immediately, drowning out her confusion and frustration and replacing them with echoing fireworks whose neon reds and blues approached white. They swirled together, danced in harmony, and ran away as Twilight tentatively pulled back. Rarity felt a hand on the back of her head, drawing her in again - but the ice and fire were replaced by something more solid, less electrical. Something warm, velour, and quiet.

   Then, once again, that warm connection ended, though Twilight stayed close for a moment. "L-like that?"

   Rarity giggled despite herself. "Like that." She moved her hand from Twilight's neck to her cheek, moving a few unbound strands of hair out of her eyes, smiling broadly as she blushed again. "I don't know how long I've wanted to do that. I really don't know."

   "Why didn't you just do it, then?" Twilight asked softly. She didn't seem angry with her; quite the opposite, she seemed interested. "I was terrified just now that I'd confused our friendship forever."

   "You kind of did," Rarity replied, and stepped slightly closer, running her hand down Twilight's arm and grasping her hand. "I'm certainly confused."

   "But not frustrated?"

   She hesitated to answer. "I don't think so. I... want to see where this goes, Twilight."

   Twilight's hand had fallen to her back. "Then why didn't you kiss me before?"

   The silence had returned, but, though not at all dark, or even uncomfortable, it felt hollow at its core. After a few moments, she looked away. "I don't think I have an answer for you."