Love Life (or Pinkie Pie's Heartbreak Repair Service)

Well now. You’ve never seen your ex-fiancée getting fired out of a cannon (that somehow appeared from nowhere) before. There’s a first time for everything.

Pinkie Pie assures you that she’s going to land somewhere in Canterlot, most likely somewhere soft and relatively harmless. It doesn’t matter to you. Fleur’s shrieking as she propelled through the sky like a fancy rocket is a memory you’re going to treasure for a long time indeed.

“That was… unexpected.” you say aloud, returning to your house and closing the door behind you, “But then again, I’ve come to expect just that from you, Pinkie. Thanks for your help back there.”

“Don’t mention it.” she smiles, “I don’t usually do that sorta thing, but that meanie-butt had it coming.”

“You can say that again.” you mutter, placing a friendly hoof on Pinkie’s shoulder.

“If you say so; I don’t usually do that s-”

“Hold on a sec.” a thought creeps into your head. You’d best get it out in the open while it’s there. “I didn’t know Fleur was going to be here when I got back. How did you know I was in trouble?”

“I didn’t!” she replies, her expression changing when she remembers what she came here for, “I just really wanted to tell you something.”

“Tell me what?”

“I…” Pinkie Pie hesitates for a moment, thinking about the best way to arrange her words. “I really, really like you-”

“We’re not dating, she’s a friend of mine! Just a dear friend, nothing more!”

“-r improvements over these past few weeks. I really do!” she finishes with a clearly forced smile.

You see right though it, “Pinkie, are you okay? I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t come all the way to my house just to say that.”

She opens and closes her mouth a few times in response, trying to pick which excuse to say before discarding it for another, equally futile explanation. Eventually, she just looks at the floor in an uncharacteristic silence.

“What’s wrong? Tell me.”

When she shies away from the question, you decide to press on further. Gently, of course.

“Pinkie, you’ve helped me so much since I’ve known you, the least you could do is let me help you back. Please tell me what‘s up.”

She sits on her haunches, and takes a deep breath. She still hasn’t looked up from the floor yet. You sit right by her, your concern for her gnawing in your stomach. You can’t just sit by while she’s like this.

You gently place a hoof under her chin, and lift her face to look at yours. Her cheeks are as red as the cherry topping of a cake.

“You… you wanna help?” she breathes, “Can… I do this one thing?”

“Anything you want.” you hold her in a reassuring hug, showing her just how much you want her to be as happy as she made you. “Anything you want.”

You can feel her heart pounding away inside her ribcage, which rises and falls with each breath. Without a word, her eyelids flicker shut, and her lips part slightly as she moves her face closer and closer to yours, the sweet scent of her breathing rendering you motionless as your lips are met with hers.

Your brain, however, is whirring with a million different questions and exclamations. She tastes every bit as sweet as you imagined her to be, a pure and tender individual that you’ve longed to be with, that is almost nonexistent in the upper-class world you came from.

And then it’s over. The kiss breaks with Pinkie’s head burying itself in your shoulder.

“I’m sorry!” she squeals, her panicked words pouring out at a mile a minute, as quickly as her tears, “I really am! I just really like you and I wanted you to be happy so much and I wanted to treat you better than your last girlfriend and you were so sad and I didn’t want to hurt you and I didn’t want you to get broken-hearted again so I didn’t do anything about it and then you told me that you wanted to find somepony for myself but I don’t want to have anypony else except you and I wanted to come over here and tell you that right here but then your ex came back and she started making you sad again after all that progress we had together and she tried to make it all for nothing like a horrible meanie-butt and I thought I’d never be able to tell you how I felt while she was there and I got mad and shot her out of a cannon but she was still here being mean in the first place and I was afraid that you wouldn’t like me if I tried to take you for myself because you were still sad about what she did to you and that you’d be too scarred by it all to find somepony else but I wanna be your special somepony because you’ve such a nice pony to me and you let me into your life and let me help you so much and you deserve somepony to love you and I wanna be that somepony who loves you and-”

Kiss her, you idiot!

With your heart pounding as if falling from a height, you move in with your lips, kissing her, stopping her tearful rant in its tracks. When she realises what this means - what she means to you - her fore-hooves wrap around you like a cocoon and squeeze you as tightly as possible, trying to wring every last drop of emotion from the kiss. You squeeze her in return, holding, supporting, the back of her head, and the cotton candy cushion of her mane.

You were a fool. You should have been with a wonderful mare like Pinkie from the very beginning. She’s beautiful. She’s funny. She’s caring. She’s everything you ever wanted in a special somepony.

Now is the chance to make up for lost time. Together.

After… you don’t know how many wonderful minutes, the kissing ends. Pinkie is calm and wordless, nuzzling you as you both sit there on the floor. Your bodies are close, closer than they’ve ever been. And all you can think about is how much closer you want them to be.

She seems to pick up on your thoughts. Like a mind reader, she stands up on all fours, taking you by the hoof. From there, she leads you up the stairs, and finally, to your bedroom.

You’ve both been so courteous from the beginning, pretending not to have fallen head-over-hooves for each other. From now on, no more kidding yourselves. But first, you both have so many weeks’ worth of… emotions to sort between you.