Via Prisma

by Emerald Flight

Rating: teen
Tags: Human, Romance
Length: 6661

Five romances centered on Rarity and the rest of the main cast, each set in its own universe.

ITF I SHIP WORST PONY WITH EVERYONE IMPORTANT

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-10-08 07:58:51 UTC

Applejack - Empire Gown

   "I suppose I never really got around to finishing it," Rarity replied, touching the thick gabardine that lined the bottom of the outer layer. "Sometimes... I don't know. You sort of run out of time for things like this, don't you." She put her hands on her hips. "I want to get back to this kind of thing." Her voice had fallen until it was nearly a whisper. "I want..."

   At this, she trailed off, absorbed in thought. The word 'want' had roused tiny emotions from the corners of her mind - wisps of anxiety, wisps of something bittersweet, wisps of something else unknown. "... Sometimes I don't really know what I want, Applejack."

   She turned as she said this, and met her bright green eyes directly. Then, without warning, as though the stillness folded in on itself, she was close. The room pressurized, wrapped up in the curtains around them, wrapped up in the shadows. It was ruined and completed by Applejack's sudden movement, a single step, a nervous lean -

   Perhaps it was too sudden. She went rigid. Her breath stopped. Despite how tender she was, how she only lightly touched her cheek, Rarity remained perfectly still. Shocked.

   Their lips only touched twice before Applejack moved away, as though the gravity that had built up between them had inverted. She didn't even end the second kiss, just cut the motion off at the midpoint. For a longing moment, Rarity's eyes remained closed, her mouth hanging lazily open.

   "I..." Applejack began, and Rarity finally looked up at her - bright red, hands anxiously held in front of her, looking down and away as much as she could. "I - I'm sorry," she stammered. "I didn't - mean to, uh... I mean, I thought you were -"

   "Applejack," Rarity murmured, staring, thinking.

   She continued as though she hadn't heard, her eyebrows knitted. "I probably should have - y'know, asked before springin' something like that onto... I - I mean, I thought there was some kinda -"

   "Applejack," Rarity interjected with a half-amused half-smile, pressing a finger to Applejack's lips habitually. Then, realizing the accidental correlation, she retracted her hand - and hesitated. All at once, those lips, those eyes - every feature of her round, flushed face - they had become compelling. She drew her thumb out across her cheek, riveted by her stare. When had she started staring? "What are you apol-"

   She never got to finish that question. Rather, she had been swept up again in that electric, anxious embrace, and melted into it.

   Eventually - what may have been a minute or ten minutes later - they found themselves against the back wall, on the floor, on a tame blue arabesque rug, and a cloud had moved over what little sun found its way through the curtain. They had intensified, but no words had yet been spoken. Finally, Applejack, who had moved to her neck and up to her cheek (at her gentle direction) pulled away at a slight angle and once more stared, her breath short. The sun reached up and put a glint in her eye, silver-green, and it sent another rush of hot compulsion through Rarity. She reached cautiously to her washed-out red flannel shirt and undid the top button. And still no words were spoken.

   They spent a while afterwards on the floor, beside one another. The sign at the door still said 'out to lunch,' and the sunlight still passed over them in waves. It was a few minutes before they got to speaking - well, real speaking, not apology or instruction.

   "So, uh," Applejack began, rising to her knees. She still seemed smaller, less confident. More relaxed, though. "Is this... gonna be a thing?"

   Rarity giggled at the phrasing, and rolled onto her side. Then, her smile lessened as she considered the question. She inhaled for a moment as though to speak, but suddenly lost the words. Applejack looked down at her, hopeful, searching her eyes. Then, memories surged, old emotions filling her head and her chest. "I - I do like you, Applejack." It was true. It burned with truth - nebulous, revealing truth.

   Applejack had been fiddling with one of the buttons on her shirt, and began to redo them. "What does that mean?" she asked quietly.

   "It means..." She stopped herself. Internally, some fraction of her was shouting - of course it's going to be a thing. You dunce. You idiot. Discomfort barricaded that shout, fear of the unknown. But, momentarily, it broke through. "Do you want it to be a thing?"

   "Y-yeah," Applejack replied with a grin. "I'm not gonna lie."

   "Well, I wouldn't... mind meeting up again." What an understatement.

   They caught one another's stare once more, and Applejack's grin grew to a full smile. "Neither would I." She glanced up at the wall behind Rarity and finished buttoning her shirt. "I'm probably runnin' long on my lunch break right now, so I should probably, um, get goin'."

Fluttershy - A Cliche

   "I suppose I just want... I need something to hold on to."

   "What do you mean?"

   Her questions had become more quiet, and she knew less and less how to answer them. "There's a lot going on right now," she began hesitantly. "There are a lot of things that I have to do, and I don't get too many opportunities to do things I want to do. I mean... no, that makes it sound like I'm overworked." She put a hand to her forehead. "I just want a constant. Do you know what I mean? Something... to come home to after business in Canterlot." It had been crawling up to her little by little, and finally took hold of her. "Maybe I'd like to settle down."

   Fluttershy was silently looking down at her hands. "What do you mean?" It was almost a whisper.

   She turned to face her, opened her mouth as though to speak, and sighed. "... I'm - I'm not getting any younger, Shy. I just..." Fluttershy finally made eye contact, the sea-glass of her irises shimmering with a very particular message. But, of course, perhaps Rarity was just projecting. "I need someone. Someone who cares about me. Who I care about."

   The message was unavoidable, and without a moment's recourse, she was fixed in her stare. She glanced down to her lips, tense, waiting. "I need someone... who can..." she trailed off, suddenly magnetized.

   As their lips touched, there were no explosions or shivers or waves of heat. In fact, there was little pressure at all. Only Fluttershy could give a kiss so delicate, so fragile. For a moment, they separated. Then Rarity put a hand to Fluttershy's neck, just below her jaw, and led her closer and deeper. And then came the heat. She felt herself shake a little as she drew her hand along through that wet bubblegum hair and on down her back. It didn't seem real. The dry warmth of her lips didn't seem real.

Pinkie Pie - Bangs

   She blinked. "Are you serious?"

   "Of course I am, silly, I use it myself." She pointed at the page with authority. "Splitting your portfolio equally among risks and industries equalizes gains and losses."

   With a blank stare, she quickly re-examined what she knew about reality and decided to roll with it for the time being. "... So, what do you mean by diversifying risks?" At this, she glanced over and Pinkie was sitting next to her, leaning in with reading glasses on. "That chair was across the room. When - when have you ever needed glasses?"

   "I don't," she replied cheerily, and put a finger through the frame, poking herself in the eye. "Ow!"

   She laughed despite herself, and was relieved when Pinkie joined in, hers high and giggly and melodic. She continued for a moment after Rarity had stopped, and Rarity waited patiently, raising an eyebrow in amusement until she wore herself out. "... Sorry," she finished, adjusting her false glasses and clearing her throat. A long wave of curly pink hair fell over her face as she leaned back in. "Ugh, every time." She drew her hair back, reached into her purse for a bright pink hairband edged with rhinestones, and slipped it carefully over her head.

   With that, the thick bubblegum curls that had always sprouted like wildfire around her ears and across her forehead were tamed, and for whatever reason Rarity's heart gently sunk to her stomach. "... Here," she interjected after a second, interrupting the beginning of Pinkie's lecture. She reached over and worked a single strand loose, letting it fall with a bubbly little bounce just to the side of her face.

   Pinkie reached up to put it back, and hesitated. "What was that for?"

   "That's a good look for you."

   She giggled again, and put her head in her hand. "Do you think?"

   Her laughter bled seamlessly into her speech, and Rarity's heart returned to its place. It brought with it a velveteen tickle that ran through her spine, and just for a moment, she couldn't bring herself to look into her eyes. In a moment, though, the feeling passed. "Trust me on this one, darling."

   "Alrighty." She played with the loose strand for a moment and smiled before pointing again at the stack of paperwork.

   "Actually," Rarity began, picking the papers up and tapping them against the desktop, "it's getting a bit late. How about coffee tomorrow around two and we can discuss this more?"

   Pinkie stared up at her. "... Alrighty," she agreed, and stood. "Well, I'll see you then. I'm gonna bounce. Literally. Bye!"

   Without even allowing her to say good night, Pinkie had skipped out the front door, and left Rarity alone in the semidarkness of the office. She stood to replace the paperwork in the filing cabinet and paused to stare vacantly at the desk. The memory of letting that strand of hair loose - smoothly letting it fall to her cheek, watching it bounce as it caught the candlelight just so, seeing her face light up as she realized what was happening - it barraged into her mind without warning, knocking a locked door off its hinges in the process. And for that split second, as the memory faded away again, she felt herself held by soft, firm arms, enveloped in her gentle sky-blue gaze, and felt herself drawn in for... no.

   The sentiment was strong enough that she said it out loud, softly. "No." She inhaled, leaving the papers where they were and turning to look out the window, folding her arms. "Oh... this isn't good. This is not good."

   She paused again, thoughts flying through her head, hailing on her corpus callosum. "... I think."

   The thoughts still roiled around her at two o'clock the next day, as she sat outside of the Ponyville Café, though they had lessened. The sun was hidden behind a screen of cirrus clouds, dappling the cobblestone main street in soft variations of its original saturation. Rarity took no notice of this. She had decided to order early, and now stared into a half-full latte and tried to take her mind off it by counting bubbles.

   "Hiya!" came the energetic greeting she had been expecting. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to ask her out for coffee, considering... it was Pinkie. She sat directly next to Rarity, who returned her greeting with a smile and a quiet "hello, darling". At this, she pulled a pair of fake glasses - at least twice as large as the ones from the night before - from apparently nowhere. As Pinkie was wont to do. "Let's see those forms," she began, putting on a comically serious tone.

   For a moment, she felt pushed to put them off again. They weren't important in the long run. She felt pushed to get up and walk away, or to just banter for a while to move this strange, dangerous new thought from her head. But neither came to her quickly enough, and she reluctantly produced the paperwork again.

   As Pinkie shuffled through the papers and went off on a little tangent about whatever company she had put half her stocks into, she studied her. While reading some of the jargon to herself, she stuck her tongue out just a little. It was almost cartoonish. She knew the large glasses were for effect, for humor, but she wondered whether the tongue was too. Or, perhaps, that was just one of her many quirks.

   "You know," she began, "I'm glad you're helping me out with this."

   "No problem," Pinkie replied, not paying too much attention. "This system is super-hard, but I bet anyone can do it if they put their mind to it."

   "I suppose," she replied, her voice bordering a whisper. That little surge of electricity was back with a vengeance, and she looked away to dull it.

   Pinkie looked up. "You alright?"

   "What?" She snapped to attention. "Of course. I - I didn't sleep well."

   "Oh. Sorry to hear that," she said, and returned to the papers. As if on cue, her hair fell again over her face, and she groaned and pushed it back. "I need to do something about that permanently."

   "Well, don't cut your hair, darling. It looks nice the way it is," Rarity said as Pinkie pulled a hairband from her pocket, the same one as yesterday, and slipped it on. "One moment," she murmured, and without thinking, reached out and gently looped her finger around a strand of hair - and lingered.

   It was quiet for a long moment as Rarity hesitated. She tore her eyes away from that lock of bright bubblegum hair and was immediately caught in her eyes - cut topaz reflecting the midmorning sun. Behind the façade of confusion, below the raised eyebrow, there was a glimmer of... something. Something imperative.

   Finally, she let the lock of hair fall to rest on her forehead. But her hand... despite herself, her hand fell to rest on her cheek. The pulse of electricity soared. For a moment, Pinkie looked away, and then back up, her mouth open as if to speak, as if to ask why. But she didn't. She never had the chance to.

Rainbow Dash - Dysphonia

   Up until that point, it had remained unspoken. It hadn't been around long at all, but it had certainly been there, with a pulse - real, for both of them. And Rarity knew it was both of them. She could see it in her eyes.

   Up until that point, they were at the party in the library. It wasn't a common occurrence, and when it happened, everyone attended. Of course, by then there had only been one birthday party for Twilight since her arrival in Ponyville, but it had somehow become rather tradition. And they had, of course, both shown up.

   Up until that point, they hadn't even greeted one another. They'd both had their conversations and laughed and played impromptu games all the rest they did at Pinkie's parties, but though they'd seen one another, they hadn't spoken. And Rarity felt something the first time they made eye contact; just like her, there was something sitting uncomfortably at the back of Dash's mind. She could see it in her eyes.

   They'd found their way, one after another, onto the empty balcony. The night brought a wind with it, but no real chill. And they'd both looked out at Ponyville, lit up below, each not acknowledging the other. Up until that point.

   "... Are you going to kiss me?"

   She felt their proximity as the words left her lips. They were sitting on the bench behind the railing, close. Close enough, at least.

   Dash didn't say anything. Instead, she finally raised her head to look at her, and looked back down as quickly. Her eyes, for that moment, were... dark. Curious, perhaps, or even conflicted. But there was no positivity in them.

   For a brief moment, Rarity was about to take the matter into her own hands. Just for that brief moment, she felt herself lean forwards and tenderly, as tenderly as she could, break the tension with what could be a gloriously memorable first kiss. But it didn't happen. Something kept her back.

   She stood silently. "Tell me when," she added, her voice soft, and she walked back into the upper library, trying with every fiber not to look back.

   Everything was an odd blur for the rest of the night, and Rarity didn't see her anywhere.

   "I suppose I should get going," came the phrase eventually. She'd grown tired of the distractions - something had put her out of the mood. She thanked Twilight and Pinkie quietly, and gathered her hat and coat. "I'll certainly attend next year, too," she added with a smile, and said goodbye, stepping out of the warm, bright, populous party to the cool, dark, lonely night.

   It wasn't often that she left any party first. It hadn't occurred to her until then, but it was generally rude to leave a party as early as she did. But at that moment, she couldn't feel very much but lightheadedness and a desire to walk home silently and collapse into bed to bring tomorrow around.

   She pulled the coat more firmly around her with a sigh, listening to the steady 4/4 of her footsteps on the path. The fact that it was finally out there split her in pieces, fragmented and dissimilar, but all confused. How dare Rainbow Dash not respond. How lucky she was that Rainbow Dash didn't respond. What if she would eventually respond? How terrifying. But what a joyous day that would be. Perhaps.

Maybe it wasn't even worth it, she thought as she passed through the empty town square and into the suburb, counting her shadows as she passed under the street-lamps. Maybe that undefinable something about her isn't what you're really looking for.

   But, Celestia. Every time she saw her make a face she was unaware of, or lose her train of thought and stare with thoughtful, gleaming eyes into the sky, elegant music played in her head. Perhaps it was simple disdain, but the way she spoke, even to her, was bold and pointed, and something about it sparked some indistinct dramatic tragedy. And she didn't know the minutiae, but she knew Rainbow Dash felt something as well whenever she returned her glances.

   She stopped to stand just outside of where the street-lamps' light reached, looking back at the lit city thoughtfully. Maybe it wasn't even healthy to think so much about it. Maybe -

   Suddenly, she heard rapid footsteps from behind her. She sighed and put a hand to her temple out of habit. Not now.

   "Rarity."

   It felt like it'd been months since she'd heard her name in that voice. She looked up at her - brow furrowed in worry, short of breath. Eyes locked with her own. "... I... didn't mean to be so melodramatic. I just don't..." She trailed off, trying to find the best way to phrase it. "I didn't want to tiptoe around it any longer."

   Dash opened her mouth as though to say something, and motioned vaguely, but instead took a cautious step forwards. "When you..." she began, stumbling over her words. "Y - you c-" She took another half-pace. "It..."

   Dash was flustered. Blushing - embarrassed. Even if her face didn't show it, Rarity could feel her heart thumping against the inside of her chest. Was this it? The start to something? Would it be good? Would she regret it? Thought after thought overlapped and spun together like ink in water, putting her in a sort of daze.

   "You - you know -" Dash continued, and stopped herself, covering her mouth with a hand. Rarity only had to look closer to see the moistness on her cheeks.

   "Dash -"

   "No, no, it..."

   "Dash, I can't understand you."

   "I - I know, just - I'm trying, but it's not exactly -" she tried again, but cut short and clenched her teeth together and turned her gaze to the ground.

   "Is everything okay, darling?" Rarity began, walking closer to her. It was starting to scare her.

   "No, I'm fine. Look, there's something that, um, when it..." Her mouth moved wordlessly for a moment, and she wiped at her eyes. "I - I'm sorry. I didn't -" She cursed quietly and stepped back at Rarity's pace, the sound quick and sharp above her voice.

   "I didn't mean to put you on the spot, Dash, that wasn't my intention -"

   Dash shook her head, clearing her throat and composing herself. Rarity saw her force herself to start again, and saw her realize she was failing. "I... want to..." came the final attempt, squeaked and distorted. With a final, terrified look - electrifying her, paralyzing her - she took another step backwards and walked briskly away. Rarity could see her strain to keep from running.

   For a moment, she didn't follow. That moment lasted until Dash was well out of sight, until a stiff breeze woke her again.

   She wasn't even entirely sure of herself as she began to walk down Main Street, down to the edge of town. She didn't even see where Dash was going, but was following regardless, periodically feeling herself break into a jog, periodically saying her name.

   Eventually, as the chill of night began to set in, she turned her stare from the black alleys of the inner village to the cobblestone path with a drawn, quiet sigh. What could she have done? What did she do? Eventually, as the chill of night began to set in, she turned and headed for the Boutique.

   She didn't expect to see Dash again the next day - not really. What she felt as 'expectation' may have been hope.

   It was an empty day, a day when there wasn't much to do but sit somewhere and read or listen to music or nap in the sun. It was too still to work. Rarity had found herself in the middle of two pillowy time periods - the nothing of morning and the nothing of the coming evening. Eventually, therefore, she'd decided to take a walk through the park to the west of town, nothing more than a stroll just to occupy her time. And Rainbow Dash was hovering in the farthest reaches of her mind, only vaguely even there.

   It was overcast, and the scents of the restaurants in town wafted over to the park on the light breeze. She was taking her careful time, rolling some work-related things over in her mind, and looking up and around at the trees that just starting to change colour. Then, she heard her name behind her, spoken lowly. "Rarity."

   She turned, hardly deigning to believe. But smiled regardless when she saw her, her hoodie up over her unkempt bangs but open over her sea-green v-neck. "... Hello."

   "Sup," Dash murmured. "I wanted to, uh, say sorry for... yesterday."

   "What about?"

   "I just - shouldn't have run off like that. You know. And the whole, uh..." she trailed off, putting a hand to her neck. "Stammering thing. It's not my bag."

   "That's alright," Rarity replied, not about to ask. For a moment, she left space for her to speak again, maybe... ask something. Maybe that was too hopeful.

   Dash stuffed her hands in her pockets, stretching them out. She was still maybe a yard away, an uncomfortable distance. "It..."

   Rarity expected the pause, and it lent a clue, perhaps, to the subject matter of the following sentence. Her heart jumped a little.

   "It took a lot... for me to, um, come over here," Dash continued, belaboured. "'Cause... did - did you say, when we were on..."

   She was going to be patient, wait for her to speak, but her excitement took over. "On the balcony."

   "Yeah. So... you did say what I thought you said?"

   For a moment, she nearly nodded, but kept from it; instead, she met Dash's rosaline eyes, though she looked away. "I should have been more straightfowards," she said, stepping forwards a little. "Do you... would you like to meet for dinner tonight, Rainbow Dash?"

   She saw Dash freeze ever so slightly, but this time she didn't break her stare. That anxiety and dull fear from the previous night was replaced by a hesitant glimmer. In a moment, she badly tried to conceal a small smile. "... Sure."

   Rarity somehow maintained her composure. "How about you come by the Boutique at around... seven?"

   Dash ran a hand through her casually messy hair. "That - that's - that sounds good. Uh, what do I - what do I wear?"

   "It depends on where you want to go."

   "I mean, there's only eight or nine restaurants in town, and none of them are, like... fancy."

   "Then wear what you like," Rarity replied, finally showing a cheeky little grin. She wasn't making her so flustered intentionally, but in a way it was rather sweet.

   "Right." Dash paused, her hands still in her pocket. "I, uh... I'll see you then, then. I mean... you know what I mean." With this, she turned around and took off, not waiting for a response.

   Rarity watched her go again. This sudden shift in attitude was both understandable and endlessly confusing; it only makes sense for something like this to be briefly awkward, considering the positive but platonic repertoire they'd had before, but... she couldn't help feeling perhaps she had taken some kind of misstep somewhere.

   It was a lot of luck and a dash of skill that brought her this far, though, and it would be nothing less than unbecoming not to see it through.

   "What to wear" turned out to be a good question. Dash was obviously going to go casual, as was her nature; how far did she want to stray from that? As soon as she got back to the Boutique, she set to work at her closet.

   Hours trickled by. It was two, then three, then four before she decided on one of her favourite casual suits - a cool colour combination, shapely but not extravagant. It only just beat out three of her other favourite suits. She wondered whether Dash would notice.

   She stared into the mirror for a moment after fixing her hair and face. There was a glitter in her eye that she hadn't seen in a very long while. And it was then she realized: the willpower she had been using to 'keep it casual' would drain quickly. She faced the realization with an anxious smile.

   Then, she waited. She couldn't even begin to focus on her book, so instead she just sat on the loveseat, entertaining various interesting thoughts. Night rolled around quickly, and in the last few minutes before 7, she heard a noise at the door. Not a knock - a shuffle, a quiet footstep or two. She walked as stealthily as she could over to one of the side windows that had a good view of the staircase and moved the cutrain aside slightly. Dash was there already, her messy hair in a loose half-ponytail, wearing a dark leather jacket over her usual athletic jeans and shirt. She almost giggled. That was her idea of accessorizing.

   She was looking at the chartreuse door, her hands in her pockets, stiff as a board. Then, she turned away, shaking her head and putting a hand on the back of her neck. Rarity's stomach knotted as Dash froze in place, stuck in thought, then undid itself as she turned back around, placing both hands on the guardrail and leaning on it. She watched Dash step away and inhale heavily, almost exaggeratedly, putting a hand to her forehead as though to steady herself.

   At exactly 7:00 PM, thirteen seconds later, the doorbell rang.

   Rarity couldn't stop herself from giggling this time. She stepped over to the door and as she opened it, she saw Dash completely drain of colour.

   She didn't say anything for a moment, but grinned. "Evening."

   Dash put a hand on the back of her neck again. It was a nervous reflex, most likely. "Hi," she managed. "Uh... you look... great."

   Rarity turned a bit, showing the dimensions of the jacket. "Do you like it? It's a design from a few years ago."

   "Well, it definitely holds up," Dash said. "Are you, like, alright with what - with what I'm wearing?"

   "Of course, darling. This is meant to be casual."

   "Jeez. Really? I kinda feel underdressed."

   "Let me put it this way," Rarity began, her smile as amused as it was excited, "who among us is a professional fashion designer?"

   "That's true," Dash admitted, breathing out some anxiety. "Well, uh... there's the Cloverhoof grill on Second Street. If that's where you want to go."

   "I'm ready," Rarity said, turning out the light and closing the door behind her. The speckled, dewy chill of a late-summer night wrapped around her as she did, and in the semidarkness, she saw Dash finally offer a hint of a smile. "Lead the way."

   After a moment of hesitating to offer a hand or an arm or something, Dash stuffed her hands back into her pockets. "So, to make sure," she said lowly, clearing her throat, "this is - this is a date, right? Like, a date date."

   Rarity looked over incredulously, pursing her lips. "... No, not at all."

   "... And that was sarcasm, right?"

   "Yes," Rarity replied, playfully exasperated. "Honestly, Rainbow Dash, I'm not sure how much clearer I have to be."

   Dash looked away sheepishly. "You might have to be pretty blunt about some stuff."

   "I'm only playing, darling." They'd started walking - more strolling, with their pace. For a moment, the night settled. Then, Rarity began again, more softly: "You know, you don't have to be so nervous around me. About this."

   "That's true for a lot of things," she murmured.

   Rarity paused. "Yes, I suppose it is." They walked in silence again for a moment. "Is there anything I can do to make you... less anxious?"

   Dash hadn't blushed very much. Surprising, given her state. But, for some reason, it surfaced now, just a light pink flush to her cheeks - only noticable if you were looking for it. "Look, I..." She trailed off for a moment, and Rarity remained quiet, patient. "This kind of thing... it's been sort of at the back of my head for a while. Like, we've been friends for a while, so I'm usually alright... uh, talking to you, but..." She turned away, her voice droppoing even more. "You're actually exactly my type."

   That pulse set about in her chest once more, and Dash finally returned her stare, her eyes dark. That darkness wasn't fear. It was softness. Dash just wasn't used to it.

   The realization set her back a little in conversation. She had to re-evaluate what was last said, and it did nothing but send another wave of pressurized heat through her. "I'm flattered," she replied, suddenly compelled to break their stare. She felt herself smile before the intent of the statement was turned back on her. "May I be honest?"

   "Yeah."

   She looked back up, but only for a moment. "I'm not sure of the reason behind my attraction to you," she murmured. That darkly glimmering stare kept her from making eye contact again. She could feel it on the back of her neck. "But... it's there." She adjusted her purse, unsure of what else to do with her hands. "And it's strong."

   "... That's not helping."

   Rarity laughed. "With the anxiety?"

   Dash chuckled

-

-

-

Twilight Sparkle - Haut Monde

   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."