Cinnamon goes well with a cup of Coco
Sundays taste of vanilla. They’re thought of as sweet, but they can leave a bitter taste on the tongue. Vanilla itself isn’t a sugary flavor like ice cream promises. It still smells wonderful, but pure vanilla tastes horrible. Sundays, as the last day of the weekend, should be sweet, too, but they’re bitter with the thought of the week ahead. A flurry of action drowns out whatever good Sundays could be, as students rush to get the last bits of homework done (or all of it if they don’t plan right.) Adults try to enjoy a few moments of relaxation, dreading the workweek to come. Everything that could be perfect wasn’t quite.
Fluttershy kicked her hooves under the table as she waited at the cafe table. Outside the hoofprint-smudged window, it was raining. A few lone drizzles cut blurry lines as they ran off the rooftop onto the sidewalk below. Usually, this street would be crowded with shoppers and ponies going about their business. This particular cafe was off the main tourist routes, which made it one of Fluttershy’s favorites. This wasn’t her first time in Manehatten, but the hustle and bustle still made her feel uncomfortable. Perhaps she just wasn’t meant for the fast-paced heartbeat of city life.
It was Rarity who had insisted that she go on this week long vacation. “Spend time with a friend,” she had said. “Enjoy yourself, darling! A bit of change is good for you!” It made perfect sense to Fluttershy that Rarity was the first to notice that she was becoming more reclusive, more jumpy at the slightest sights and sounds. Friendship missions gone awry didn’t exactly help her stress levels. Before she knew it, Fluttershy found herself on the train to Manehatten, a hastily-packed suitcase in tow.
Her friend was getting both of their coffees. She was soft spoken like Fluttershy, which made things both better and worse. It was nice that she would be able to speak without worrying about others missing her point, but it also brought a bit of awkwardness with it. Neither mare wanted to speak up at times. That was fine, of course. Fluttershy certainly didn’t mind watching the rain fall down, and Coco Pommel didn’t seem to mind either.
The streets were less crowded now. Ponies were no longer rushing to find shelter. The few that still walked down the sidewalk did so in a relaxed stroll, umbrellas to the sky. It was like a lone sea, filled with colorful jellyfish. For a moment, Fluttershy considered mentioning this to Coco, but dismissed the idea. She didn’t know Coco very well, after all, and what if Coco thought she had a peculiar imagination? Besides, she must be too tired to listen to that sort of thing. Working full-time on fashion with community projects on the side must make Coco exhausted.
Oh, she was returning. Time to smile, sit up, and look as intelligent as she can muster. Fifth impressions must matter almost as much as first impressions, right?
Mondays taste of nutmeg. Nutmeg is good in small amounts, but if you add too much to a recipe it can be overpowering. It smells wonderful, sure, but woe be to your mashed potatoes or cider if you lose count of how much you’ve put in. The same can be said of Mondays. They are an overdose of nutmeg, too much responsibility and expectation packed into too small of a day. It isn’t quite fair to Mondays, of course, but most are of the opinion that Mondays shouldn’t exist at all.
Coco was off for most of the week, but on Monday she had to work for most of the day. This suited Fluttershy fine. She packed up a basket full of hotel food and sat in the park to enjoy a picnic brunch. It was fun to watch all the ponies pass by as she nibbled on her toast sandwich. The park was almost empty, except for a few mothers watching over their foals. They played on the swings, their laughter bubbling up into the sunny sky. A few ponies cut through the park, trotting to music or hustling their way to work. It was a bright, peaceful day, and Fluttershy was just happy to enjoy it.
Of course, she eventually had to get up. When a pony mowing the lawn drew ever-closer to her picnic, she stood, brushed some damp grass off of her rump, and made her way back to her hotel room. Setting down the picnic basket Coco had so kindly lent her, Fluttershy noticed a folded envelope on her bed. She opened it and smiled. Coco wanted to see a community-run play with her that night! That sounded lovely! But what should she do to pass the time?
Perhaps she would take another stroll through the park, and see if she could find any animals to be around. Surely there would be some birds or sweet little squirrels to spend some time with, and then afterwards, she’d be able to hang out with Coco some more!
Coco… there was something about her that Fluttershy inherently trusted. Maybe she was just that kind of pony? Her smile made Fluttershy want to smile back, and she was patient and sweet, and her voice was gentler than the chirp of a songbird, and-
Was it normal to think of a friend like that? The last time Fluttershy had been so adamant about how wonderful another pony was, was when she had first met Rarity, and that had ended with a bit of pain on her part and a bit of awkwardness on Rarity’s, but at least they were still friends, right? Besides, this was nothing like that. It couldn’t be. Coco was a brand-new friend, and just because they had a lot in common didn’t mean that she should get her hopes up.
Tuesdays taste of peppermint. Peppermint is sweet enough and a fairly common flavoring, especially around Hearth's Warming. A little bit can go a long way in cocoa and sweets. It’s a cool flavor, a mint extract that has health benefits and is used in a lot of products. Tuesdays are useful too. They’re the period of calm after the storm of Mondays, a time to settle back into old routines of the week. Not to mention, Taco Tuesdays are a bit of a blessing in their own right.
It was raining again, which made Fluttershy feel a bit disappointed. She had hoped to be able to repeat the previous day’s activities somehow, but the weather vetoed her naive fantasy. The play had gone wonderfully, and she barely remembered flopping on her hotel bed. Her dreams had been full of laughter and music, and when she awoke, she felt fully rested, for once. Perhaps Rarity was on to something with her vacation idea!
Fluttershy had breakfast alone, trying to keep to herself at a table while other ponies chattered and ate. It was a bit lonely, taking a vacation alone. It felt like every other pony was either there on business or there with family, and then there was Fluttershy, the outlier. She ate as quickly as she could and excused herself to her room to think.
Luckily, she didn’t have to sit alone for very long. Coco politely tapped on the door, and offered a list of different fun activities to do indoors. Shopping wasn’t very high on Fluttershy’s priority list, but she jumped at Coco’s suggestion to check out the local aquarium. Coco seemed amused at Fluttershy’s enthusiasm, and her giggle made Fluttershy feel a fluttery warmth glow inside her chest for a moment.
They walked to the aquarium together, and after waiting in line to buy tickets, they entered the underwater paradise. Together, they cooed as schools of fish rippled in currents and darted through plants. Coco had apparently been there many times before to escape the weather, so she narrated the exhibits, much like a tour guide would.
At one point, when they were looking at seahorses, Fluttershy realized she wasn’t staring at the fish any longer. What Coco was saying was interesting, of course, but her voice was enchanting to listen to! When she turned to look at Fluttershy, Fluttershy quickly glanced back at the seahorses and nodded absentmindedly, praying to Celestia that it only felt like she was blushing.
Wednesdays taste of cherry. Not the fresh burst of a ripe cherry, tasting cool in the hot sun, but the syrupy sweetness of flavoring, the popsicle that, while delicious, doesn’t quite taste right. Wednesday is the “hump” that most need to get over, the flag before everything slopes towards the weekend to come. It should be a signal for victory, a sort of “congratulations, you’re halfway there,” but it too often falls flat.
Fluttershy hummed to herself as she scrubbed a stain out of the scarf Rarity had packed for her. At least it wasn’t a silk scarf, or she never would be able to wash it out. It was the middle of the week, and her vacation was already half over, though it didn’t feel like it should have been. Sure, she felt better than she had in a long time, but she didn’t want it to be over so soon. Time was flying far faster than she wished it would.
Coco had brought Fluttershy to a fashion show, and they had stayed there for a while. It was dazzling to watch, and, in Fluttershy’s opinion, far more fun to be in the audience than up on the stage. When she mentioned it to Coco, Coco just gave her a confused nod in agreement, which made Fluttershy clam up for the rest of the show. Had she said something wrong? Would Coco be insulted by her disinterest in fame?
She waited until later on in the day to bring it up again to Coco. They each got an ice cream cone and walked past shops, staring at window displays as they chatted. Fluttershy didn’t really know where to start in her tale, but she stumbled through her less-than-enchanting time under Photo Finish’s guidance. She was partially through her tale, fumbling through the details, when Coco added a few of her own. Apparently, she had gone through her own fair share of difficulties with the photographer.
Partially through the story, Fluttershy began to giggle. She couldn’t help it, and she tried to stop, but she just couldn’t. It was as though they were one and the same, Coco and her. Not perfectly the same, of course, but they shared so much, and Coco was just so much fun to be around, and oh dear, she was blushing again, but this time she didn’t mind it so much. She could blame it on the sun if she had to, right?
And then Coco was laughing along, and they hugged, and okay, maybe a little bit of Coco’s ice cream smeared on the scarf Fluttershy had worn to the fashion show, and maybe a bit of hers had dripped onto Coco’s saddle bag, but it was okay. It would wash out, and the stains would be gone, soon enough. A tiny part of her wished they wouldn’t, though, and she’d see it and remember the sound of Coco’s light, wisplike laughter forever.
Thursdays taste of strawberry. Delicate, light, and fruity, strawberries go with most anything. With cream, in pies and tarts and oatmeal, on top of shortcake… they can go with almost any desert and make it better. Still, few use them to their full potential. Thursdays are similar to this. They may feel like nothing more than Friday Eve, but surely they can be more than that, can’t they?
Coco had to work during the morning again, so Fluttershy slept in late. When she awoke, she ate a quick meal and wandered down streets and lanes, lost in her own thoughts. Ponies bustled by, busy with their lives, but Fluttershy took no notice of them. Her thoughts were on Coco, and the fun they’d had.
No, it wasn’t completely just the activities they’d done that held Fluttershy’s attention. If she had to attempt to put it to words, it would be the idea of Coco, the concept of her. Her laugh, the way she brushed back her mane, the way she walked with an upbeat skip. Fluttershy wasn’t sure why, but there was just something about Coco that made Fluttershy want to talk about her to anypony that would listen. She was cute and graceful and gentle and kind and caring and a million other adjectives that Fluttershy could rattle off to anypony and nopony.
Looking up, Fluttershy found herself walking towards a local library. Usually, it would be Twilight that’d insist on visiting it, but she found herself walking up the steps anyway. She wandered through the aisles, books stretching up towards the ceiling, trying to keep herself away from the romance section. No, her mind shouldn’t wander to there, nor should she open any of the poetry books that seemed to call her name. Was this what Twilight felt all the time, but with any book at all? If so, it must be unbearable.
Recognizing she couldn’t wander around forever in the dimly lit shelves of the library, Fluttershy turned around and made her way back to the hotel. The only thing that kept her on track was the thought that maybe, Coco would be waiting for her there.
Fridays taste of cocoa. Sweet, precious cocoa. Used as a drink, or topping sweet cream pies, or made into bars, and countless other wonderful things. Still, some don’t enjoy the taste, just as some do not enjoy Fridays. Shops are crowded with those just out of school or work, and the workers who have to tend to the crowds have more ahead of them than on other days. Still, Friday, like cocoa, brings the promise of future sweetness to most.
Fluttershy woke up in a bed that was not her own. Well, to be fair, the hotel wasn’t really her own, either, but this wasn’t her room. Strewn about it were strands of lace and spools of fabric. For a moment, Fluttershy panicked. Had something happened? Had she been kidnapped?
No, no, now she remembered. After they met back up at the hotel, Coco had taken Fluttershy back to her apartment, where they discussed fashion as Coco finished up a project or two. They had stayed up late into the night, talking about little things and letting the conversation wander everywhere. Afterwards, Coco had offered to let her sleep over, but… where was Coco?
Fluttershy searched the room before smiling with gentle affection. Coco must have crashed on the couch to let Fluttershy take the bed. That was awfully thoughtful of her, Fluttershy thought. She hummed and walked around the room. There was a sketchbook, open to a half-finished sketch of… umbrella jellyfish? Had she really mentioned that to Coco, or did they somehow have the same idea?
Fluttershy looked back to the couch where Coco snored softly, fluttering a scrap of tulle that had fallen over her muzzle. Her heart stuttered in her chest for a moment, and she felt a gentle rush of warmth in her cheeks. That had to be nothing, just like the last times. And yet… she couldn’t deny what she felt any longer. But she was pretty sure she couldn’t just tell Coco. Fluttershy didn’t want to make her feel awkward or uncomfortable, feelings or no feelings.
She went into the kitchen. Once Coco woke up, she’d probably be hungry, right? The least Fluttershy could do, as a guest, would be to feed her. Then, maybe afterwards, they’d be able to talk more. It was the day before her vacation ended, but Fluttershy didn’t want to spend a moment feeling sad about that. She would much rather enjoy it in Coco’s company.
But Saturdays? Saturdays taste of cinnamon. Too much cinnamon, like too much of the unrestrained freedom of Saturday, can become unbearable, but just the right amount can make everything sweeter. Cinnamon rolls, cinnamon sugar, cinnamon swirled into apple cobbler. Nothing is more satisfying or more relaxing than sharing a cinnamon roll, or a Saturday, with a friend.
They shared a cinnamon roll at the train station while they awaited the train to Ponyville. Everything was packed, everything was accomplished, Fluttershy felt rested, and… she wished she had said more. Somehow. She was mentally went through all the wonderful moments they shared together. Was there something more she could have said that would make Coco return her feelings?
Coco was explaining something, and laughing to herself. Something about what the different days of the week tasted like? At any other time, Fluttershy would be nodding and listening intently at what Coco had to say, but now she was terrified. Time was moving too quickly, she had to say something, she didn’t know what she’d do if Coco didn’t know how she felt. She loved her, okay? Not just the time they spent together, like they’d say when they’d hug goodbye, but she actually loved-
Wait. She didn’t- Did she really say that part out loud? If it had been any other pony, their voice would have covered Fluttershy’s whispering, but Coco’s voice was just soft enough to hear Fluttershy’s over, and…
This was it. This was the end. So much for a perfect vacation together, so much for their friendship, and so much for-
Wait, what? There was no way that Fluttershy had heard Coco correctly. The blush on Coco’s cheeks must be caused by the cinnamon roll, or the sun, or something else, anything else. Stumbling over her words, Fluttershy asked Coco to repeat herself.
Oh. That was… a good response. Good. Yes. Fluttershy doubted her mind was working correctly. All she could think of was a dim realization that that was the correct response, the one she wanted. Her heart sang, her body tingled with blissful warmth, and a million other feelings that most poetry never quite described perfectly. Coco held her hooves out for a hug, and then the train arrived and Fluttershy was on it, and then it was pulling her away. Coco was waving but growing ever-distant, a smile spreading across her cheeks. Beautiful. Cute. Loved. Loved back.
Fluttershy couldn’t wait to come back for her next vacation.
