Warm Milk

by Harmony Pie

Rating: everyone
Tags: Twilight Sparkle (EqG), Slice of Life, Romance, Equestria Girls, Sunset Shimmer
Length: 1884

Twilight is very clingy when she’s tired. Her victim? Sunset.

Twilight is very clingy when she’s tired. Her victim? Sunset.

Cover Art

Published 2018-07-04 03:10:06 UTC
Last updated 2018-07-04 03:10:06 UTC

Or the Luck of Light Sleepers

Sunset’s not sure what wakes her up at first. She lays there for a moment in the dark, listening to the quiet rise and fall of her chest. There’s a wonderfully cool breeze drifting in through the open window and the distant sound of cricket chirps. Nothing out of the ordinary. She draws in a deep breath as she clears the cobwebs from her mind, pushing herself up on her elbows. She knows that she won’t be able to go back to sleep until she figures it out.

Her friends are scattered across the living room floor, cocooned in sleeping bags and blankets. Sunset’s eyes scan around the room, jumping from person to person: Applejack’s face down in her pillow and snoring obnoxiously, Fluttershy is curled up in a ball and draped over with a veil of hair, Rarity—once neatly tucked in with a full face mask—is sprawled out on her stomach, Rainbow Dash is a motionless lump zipped up in her bag, Pinkie Pie is tipped upside down on the couch, and Twilight’s... not there. Sunset blinks. The sleeping bag where Twilight should be is flat and devoid of any nerdy, bespectacled girls.

And that’s when she hears it. “Oh, come on! That doesn’t make any sense... Huh, okay. Maybe if I...” The hushed mumbling is quiet, but it’s exactly loud enough to stir a light sleeper like Sunset. She wiggles herself out of her bag with a soft huff, navigating socked feet carefully around her unconscious friends. She can see a faint light glowing around the corner to the kitchen. Of course. She knew Twilight wasn’t just going to let her little college project go. None of the other girls are particularly interested in even thinking about college the first day of summer, but Twilight has other plans. Although she had been already accepted into her dream school (surprise), she wants to go above and beyond and create a project to present to them. She only put down the notebook she was scribbling in during a game of Truth or Dare after much pestering. Sunset rolls her eyes to herself. God, Twi is certainly something.

Sunset turns around the corner, squinting as she adjusts to the light. Twilight is hunched over at the counter, a mess of papers spread over the top. She’s munching absentmindedly on a pencil, swatting at the hair strands falling out of her messy bun. The clock above the stove blinks 12:04. Oh boy.

“Twilight?” She tries to make her voice as soft and soothing as possible, but it doesn’t appear to work. Twilight immediately shoots out of her chair and lets out a noise akin to a kitten being stepped on, whirling around to face Sunset.

“Sunset?” she hisses, as if she can’t fathom how Sunset is here, in Sunset’s own house. Her eyes are wide and wild beneath her crooked glasses, and she nearly stumbles back into the table.

“Whoa, whoa,” Sunset chuckles, stepping forward to steady her. Up close she can see just how wrecked Twilight is. Her eyes are shadowed with heavy, dark bags, and her lips are torn and dry from worrying. Twilight doesn’t step away from the awkward hug they have going on, and instead seems to melt into it. “Uh, Twi?” Sunset starts. Her hands hover over the other’s back. Twilight is never this touchy.

This seems to snap Twilight out of it, if only a bit. She pulls back an inch and plops heavily back in her chair. “Oh, right, sorry,” she mutters, thought the last word gets swallowed by a powerful yawn. Her cheek slumps over on her fist. “I just have to finish this tiny, little detail before”—another yawn— “ten o’clock.”

Sunset drags a hand down her face and bites back a laugh. “Okay,” she breathes out, reaching over to adjust Twilight’s glasses. Twilight blinks back at her owlishly, though it looks like one of her lids is drooping. “I think it’s time to go to bed.”

Twilight brow furrows, and her head lolls to the clock, before back again to Sunset. Her lips are pursed into an adorable pout as she squints. “No.”

Sunset would be lying if she said she wasn’t expecting that. “Twilight,” she presses. No response. “Twilight.” Said girl doesn’t respond, and has gone right to scrawling in her notebook. Sunset watches her for a moment. She’s never had to deal with a Twilight like this before. But she thinks she knows how.

She walks over to her cabinet, reaching up and pulling out a tall mug. As she pours the milk and sends it spinning in the microwave, she leans over and studies Twilight. She looks unfairly pretty, half-asleep and clad in candy pattern pajamas. Unfair, Sunset thinks, watching the kitchen lights reflecting off of her shiny, dark curls, and the way her cheeks are rosy pink, and how her lips have a natural plushness—The microwave beeps. Sunset startles to attention, scrambling to place the mug on the table. She frowns to herself. It’s not like Twilight’s special or anything, though. She thinks all of her friends are the most beautiful creatures to grace the earth, alright? Although, come on, if she had to rank them...

“What’s this?”

Sunset snaps down and pushes the mug a bit closer. “Warm milk,” she answers. “Drink up.” When Twilight doesn’t move to take it, Sunset sighs. “Trust me, it’ll help you focus.” Sunset knows that, under normal circumstances, Twilight would be jumping down her throat for such an inaccurate claim. Now, wobbling dangerously over the edge of unconsciousness (and her chair), Twilight only smiles.

“Thanks, Sunset,” she slurs, “you’re such a great friend.” Twilight tips her head and takes a huge gulp of the drink. Some of it trickles down her chin, going unnoticed. She makes a weird face, her cheeks bulging as she swallows. “This,” she starts, wrinkling her nose, “is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever tasted.”

She continues to stare at Sunset, as if she is supposed to take great offense to this. When Sunset only raises an eyebrow, Twilight goes back to her notes. She continues to drink.

Sunset bites her tongue to stop herself from making an ungodly noise, though she doesn’t know if it will be a laugh or a sob. She waits until Twilight has finished a good portion of her milk before speaking again. “Feeling sleepy yet, Twi?”

Twilight’s head bobs up, and she blows a raspberry. “I’m not sleepy. I’m never sleepy, in fact. Ask my cat; I never sleep.” She trails off, eyes fluttering closed, and then jerks away. “Yeah, like I said.”

Sunset gnaws on her lip. She needs to get her to bed. “Hey, quick question... why do you have to do this now?”

Twilight pauses her writing, which from Sunset’s view, looks completely illegible. “Now?” she echoes.

Sunset huffs. “Yeah, now. As in at midnight at a sleepover.” She places her hands on her hips. “A sleepover I threw, y’know. A wicked awesome one by the way, so, pretty rude.” It’s only when she sees Twilight’s face that she realizes she is far too gone for sarcasm.

“I didn’t mean to be rude!” Twilight rushes, waving her hands frantically. She almost smacks Sunset in the head. “I’m sorry! It’s just... I have all these ideas running around in my brain. I have to get them out. I have to... prove that I’m worthy of the college.”

Sunset softens, and she takes Twilight’s hand in her own. Twilight stills. “Hey, listen. I was just kidding, okay? You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, let alone some old professors. You already got accepted. And you’re crazy smart, y’know? Like,” Sunset pauses, squeezing her fingers, “I don’t even know how we’re friends, sometimes. You’re a genius. And those ideas aren’t going anywhere. They’ll be even greater in the morning.”

Sunset smiles in what she hopes is a convincing way. She really does mean every word, but she also really wants to sleep. Twilight tugs her hands out of Sunset’s hold and winds them up her shoulders. She hums, leaning forward slightly.

“You’re pretty.”

Okay! Sunset jerks back, the tips of her ears catching fire. Twilight doesn’t know what she’s saying. But Twilight doesn’t let go, and instead stands up and wraps her arms tight around Sunset, burying her face in her chest. She’s glad for small mercies, because at least now Twilight can’t see the fire trailing to her cheeks. “Twilight,” she whispers, trying to pry her off. It doesn’t work. Twilight only nuzzles further. Sunset wants to die. Literally and truly wants the earth to swallow her whole and lead her to hell.

“Twilight, we have to go to bed,” she insists to the warm koala strangling her.

Twilight finally pulls back enough to look up at her. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go to bed.” And Sunset does not like the way that sounds.

“Yeah, so I’m going to go to my sleeping bag, and youre going to go to yours...” Sunset tries to shuffle in that direction.

Twilight shakes her head, tugging them the opposite way. “No, let’s go to your bed,” she says firmly. Sunset thinks her face has melted off by this time. But there’s no point in arguing. She’ll get Twilight fast asleep in her bedroom, and then she can slip back downstairs to the living room. Perfect.

“Okay, fine,” Sunset grumbles, “we’ll go to my room. But you have to walk yourself. Deal?” She would cross her arms but, well. Twilight considers this for a moment, and then slowly detangles her limbs from Sunset. She pushes up her glasses and stretches. Alright then.

She leads Twilight out of the kitchen and up the stairs, internally cursing each creak and squeak that her steps draw out. By the time she opens the door to her bedroom, Twilight is jelly on her feet. She collapses onto the bed without a word. Sunset pulls the covers over her, and snatches the glasses off her face to place on the vanity. It’s what any good friend would do, okay?

Twilight mumbles something. Sunset chooses to ignore it. “Goodnight, Twilight.” The mumbles get louder. She groans under her breath. “What?”

Twilight rolls over onto her back, her wide eyes discernible even in the dark. “Stay?”

And well, Sunset never stood a chance. She is frozen for a moment, her life flashing before her eyes. But then she thinks, buck it, and lifts up the covers and scooches underneath, already met with Twilight’s welcoming arms. She’s on fire. She’s on fire and she never wants to be put out. Twilight noses her way next to Sunset’s neck, twining their legs together.

Sunset’s eyes are too heavy. Which is a shame, because she wishes she could stay in this horrible, awkward, wonderful moment forever. She never wants the harsh reality of morning to come. (Who knew Sleepy Twilight was so cuddly?) Just as she’s drifting off, Sunset swears she feels a feather-light kiss to her temple.

A door bursts open, and five people crowd in. Sunlight blinds her vision.

“OH MY GOD.”

Oh, well.

Author's Note

Is this one of the most cliche things I’ve ever written? Yes. Do I regret it? No. (It was too cute.)