The Story of You and Octavia

You're a normal, average photographer pony at the Sugercube Corner, drinking your normal average tea, and eating you're normal average toast. You live alone, you are alone, and have been for years, but you're looking to change that as soon as possible. Every morning, when you visit Sugercube Corner, you always see one, particular pony sitting at the corner table. She has a grey coat, a brunette mane, and wears a collar around her neck. She's the most beautiful mare you have ever seen.

One problem.

You're terrible with mares. Your entire life, every mare you've ever liked has thought of you as boring and awkward, and has gone out of their way to make sure they never see you again. There were some mares actually a bit interested in you when you were younger, but they were either too young, too old, or you flat out just didn't like them.

Life sucks.

But this pony, this special somepony, you're not going to screw up with. But before you can even say a word to her, you need to deduct what this mare is like. Every morning, you examine her (from afar of course), studying every single feature, every single gesture, and every single blink until you can get enough characteristics from her and finally make your move. Her cutie mark of a G-Clef note automatically means she's into some type of music. Probably Classical, due to her very polite, but nonchalant gestures and expressions. Maybe she grew up in Canterlot? You're wondering if the collar she wears is her average, formal, or work attire. No matter which, it compliments her characteristics, at least the ones you think she's giving. You wonder if she plays any type of instrument, she looks like she's plays at least one. It has to be some type string instrument, maybe percussion, but definitely not wind. You can't really imagine her spitting into a trombone. She's also writing into a notebook. Musical notes maybe?

You probably get what type of a pony she is, but now you're trying to figure out if she's right for you. While you are most interested in photographs, you still recognize all types of art. Especially music. But what about classical music? You love classical music, even though you're mainly indie rock and techno. You know many of the famous composers, but you can't name any song right off the bat. You can't even play an instrument. Does singing count? You're starting to worry now. You might not even be the right pony for her. But now, you're late for work, so you can't ask her out anyway. Until tomorrow, that is.

The next morning, you don't see her at the normal corner table she usually sits at. You look around the entire building but you don't see her at any of the tables. You think she might be sick and taking the day off, or just late, hopefully. So you sit at your average table with your average breakfast and wait. But during that entire time, you start to get paranoid. You start to think that maybe she's going to another tea shop in town that you never heard of yet. Or maybe she noticed you staring at her and doesn't want to see you again. Or maybe she moved to another town because of business! Or maybe she's dead! You start to get angry, cursing Celestia from denying another chance of happiness. You feel like throwing this mug at the wall, then you feel like flipping this entire table, then you feel like throwing your chair through the window, and then you feel like punching somepony, and the you feel like BURNING THIS ENTIRE FUCKING BUILDING TO THE- oh wait, there she is.

You feel relieved seeing just seeing her enter the bakery and ordering her tea, but you've just realized something. The entire bakery is full. Everypony has occupied every chair in the building, except for one chair, the empty chair across from your table.

Oh sweet Celestia a miracle, you think to yourself.

Finally, for the first time in your life fate might make a mare come straight to you. You can finally make your move, without even having to awkwardly confront her!

You start observing her again. She's done ordering her tea, she goes to her average table, but it's full, of course. She's looking for another seat... still looking... still looking... still looking, still look- she's looking right at you! Quick move your eyes until she notices you're looking at her! Look back. WHY IS SHE BACK AT THE CASHIER- oh wait she's done and walking to you now... SHIT SHE'S WALKING TO YOU NOW! Quick, look average!

You try to drink your tea, although you're shaking so much that tea is flying everywhere. You put you're cup down. She's getting closer, closer, CLOSER!

"Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?" The mare asks.

You're mind is dead for split moment, but you snap back to your senses, "Oh no, I don't mind." You say with a grin.

She sits down at the chair across from you, and starts writing in her notebook.

She's British? Congratulations, you get hot bonus! A very hot bonus. And hey, she's writing musical notes! But really? That's all she says to you?

No "thank you"?

"Oh you're too kind"?

"Cool"?

But this gives you character trait number 1: independence. You can tell she doesn't like to talk much ponies. But she's not shy, she just likes to keep everything to herself. Either that, or she knows that you stare at her and doesn't want to talk to you. But even with that, you try to stay positive, and think of something to say.

You try to come up with cool, relaxed sounding voice to impress her, "Pretty busy today." It failed miserably

She gives a small chuckle, still writing in her notebook, "Yeah, it's usually like this during a holiday."

"Oh right." You remember, "It's National Princess Day today."

She chuckles again, "I usually prefer naming it National Princesses Wanting a Birthday Day, there's no scripture in Equestria that states Celestia and Luna even have a birthday."

"Wow, I did not know that." You seriously didn't know that.

Now you have character trait number 2: Knowledge. She probably knows a lot more than you do, so you have to let her be the all knowing mare, and compliment it.

Suddenly, a pink baker pony pops out from under your table. You get startled, dropping your tea in the process, while the mare of your dreams in front of you stays nonchalant, like she usually is.

"Iced tea to go for Octavia!" Projects the Pink Pony, holding out a plastic cup full of, well, iced tea.

"That's me," She receives the cup from her, and looks to you, "Thank you for letting me sit here." She stands up, "It was very nice to meet you." And now she leaves.

You Idiot.

Why didn't you ask her out? You still have time, she's not gone yet. Wait, now she's gone. She's left the building, you've failed. Well, at least you can say you've tried. And hey, there's still tomorrow. But then, you remember you just heard her name, Octavia.

Octavia, you think.

What a beautiful name.