It was a nightmare. She was stuck and with Flim, too. Nothing could lift her spirits in a time and place like this.
Maybe Applejack should have been more clear with herself. It wasn’t as if it was either of their faults. After all, whose fault is it that an apple pie is so juicy and delicious, the tree or the baker? ... Actually, don’t answer that.
It didn’t matter. Applejack had to keep her head on straight. The shed was dark, perhaps filled with bats or snakes that her vision failed to see. She had to be the smart one with Flim probably shaking next to her. Not that she could tell, actually, but the shed was so small that if she moved just a few inches to her left, they’d be touching shoulders.
“M—maybe we can f—find an axe ‘r somethin’ in here?”
I’m off to a great start. The stuttering really added some bravery to the situation, Applejack thought sarcastically.
“Mm ... I can’t see any axes,” Flim said, making Applejack groan, “but here’s a lantern.”
Applejack turned in surprise. “A lantern? Ya don’t suppose there’s a candle ‘n match in here, too, do ya?”
She heard him start his magic—which was only bright enough to illuminate his horn and nothing else—and move some metals objects around, followed by a small gasp.
“What? What is it?”
She was answered with a match lit aflame. Finally seeing Flim’s face, as his green magic aura wasn’t nearly as bright as she had thought before, she saw his triumphant grin as he levitated a small candle into the lantern and lit it. Light flooded the room, and Applejack was finally able to see what else was kept in the small shed. Some rakes, a blanket, even a small jar of nails, but no axe, or anything else sharp enough to cut down the wooden door.
“We’re trapped,” she said defeatedly. Flim responded with a quiet, disappointed hum.
Applejack sat down and leaned against the door, looking up in frustration.
“Can’t you buck down the door?”
She sighed. “I already though o’ that. The shed’s too small, and I don’t wanna risk knocking over the lantern and setting the shed on fire, and I don’t wanna knock the stuff on the shelves onto us, especially that jar o’ nails.”
“Ah.”
Applejack closed her eyes. She supposed that Flim had sat down to rest as well, for she never heard a peep from him for a while. The silence was rather nice. Even if she wasn’t all too thrilled about sharing a room with the former con, she could admit that the room probably felt less intimidating if he was there than if she was there by herself. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
Applejack’s eyes shot open when she heard thunder. Her ears drooped in annoyance. Seconds later, she heard rain start pattering on the roof. She hoped that the roof would be enough to keep the rain out.
“Cold?”
Applejack looked at Flim. “Huh?”
“I found a blanket,” he said, referring to the thick cotton quilt, filled with feathers for stuffing, folded nicely on the top shelf. She cocked her head.
“You’re wantin’ to share it?” she asked skeptically.
“Well, I figure it’s gonna be a cold night, and I don’t think the rain’s gonna go anytime soon.” He chuckled softly. “What choice do we have, actually?”
She studied his face. Oddly calm, no trace of his usual confidant smirk. Where did the usual Flim go? She bit her lip and joined him on the floor on the opposite side of the room.
“If you try anythin’, you’ll get a hoof to the face,” she warned.
“If that wasn’t the case, it wouldn’t be you.”
She smiled, amused. “Glad we’re on the same page.”
Flim levitated the blanket on top of them both, being careful not to get it anywhere near the still-burning lantern. Applejack noticed some dust leaving the blanket as it unfolded, but quickly ignored it once it was on top of her. It was the softest blanket she’d ever felt. Flim continued to grab two old sugar bags and placed them underneath their heads for pillows.
“Sweet, huh?”
Applejack nearly smacked him for that. She made do with a glare. Flim got the message and turned away from her, laying down on his own ‘pillow’.
Laying down onto her bag, Applejack noticed the noise of the raindrops on the roof again. The roof had to be awfully sturdy for a broken shed, she supposed. She hadn’t noticed any leaking at all. Applejack decided that, once they got out of this, she’d store her vegetable crops in here. She’d empty the shed first, of course, but despite being so small, it was still large enough to fit crates of leftover carrots, okra, potatoes, and such.
Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a quiet snore. Turning to Flim, she realized he was fast asleep already.
“Flim?” she whispered for clarification. “Flim, are ya asleep?” She didn’t receive a response at first, which answered her question, but after a minute or two, Flim, in a trance of sleep, turned around and wrapped his forelegs around Applejack, silently murmuring her name, along with something along the lines of, “Be quiet. I’m trying to sleep.”
Applejack stiffened. Glancing at him, she had the terrifying thought that he didn’t even realize what he was doing. She shut her eyes tightly, slightly annoyed with herself. Of course he didn’t. He was asleep.
She had a dilemma. What could she do? How could she respond? She dreaded the idea of cuddling him back, but what other solution could there be? It wasn’t like he was trying to seduce her. Many ponies cuddle in their sleep.
She groaned. Fine. Just this once. She awkwardly wrapped her own forelegs around him in places that seemed comfortable. Trying to find a sleeping position this way, she fidgeted for a while. Flim didn’t seem to mind. He merely just continued snoring contentedly. Finally, she found a comfortable position. Resting her head on top of Flim’s as he nuzzled into her neck, she started to dose off.
She found his warmth surprisingly comforting. Maybe even too comforting. Almost as if they were meant to be this way.
Applejack shuddered. No. A billion times no.
Not until marriage.
That gave her goosebumps. Married? To Flim?!
Ugh. There was no way. How did the thought enter her mind?
Applejack shook her head and tried to focus on sleep.
Slowly, she fell into a dream. An admittedly pleasant dream. A dream about her and Flim. A dream about their wedding.
——
“Did you sleep well?”
Applejack moaned, tired and aching from sleeping on the dirt floor. Still, it could’ve been worse.
“Applejack, wake up.”
She opened her eyes to meet his. His face was uncomfortably close. They were still embracing somehow.
Her eyes widened, and she quickly pushed him off of her.
He shrugged it off and only smiled. “You seemed to have slept well. You held me very gently last night. I could only assume you enjoyed my touch.”
He earned a punch in the shoulder for that one.
He laughed. “I deserved that one.”
“Yeah. Ya did,” she deadpanned. “Don’t ever joke about that again.” She paused. “Actually, never even speak of it again.”
“Alright, my lips are sealed.”
“Good.” She closed her eyes, listening to the silence. “The rain stopped.”
“Yep. And the lantern went out, too. I assume it’s bright enough outside, given how much sunlight is pouring through the walls.”
He was probably right. Though, it was quite still dark in there, given how thick the roof was. Between the darkness of the room, the warmth of the blanket, and the closeness between the two, one could assume the situation was intimate.
Applejack suddenly feared for her dignity. If somepony found them in there like that, who knows what they’d think.
“Let’s put the blanket away. Somepony’s probably comin’ now, searchin’ for us,” She said.
“Who knows? I actually think it’s still too early to tell.”
Applejack paused, realizing he was probably right. Again.
“Maybe ... we could rest a bit more?” he muttered, almost shyly.
Applejack’s expression softened slightly. This was a new Flim, or rather, a different side of him she’d never seen before. Was it bad that she wanted to explore this side of him? He was oddly a more pleasant pony than she had thought. Maybe ... just maybe ... he could be her friend?
She bit her lip. Yeah. She’d have to cuddle a bit more for her to decide. That was probably the solution. Most definitely.
Author's Note
Ain’t it crazy that I only write when a random idea enters my head and not when I should be writing a sequel to a certain Pharynx-centered fanfic?
I’m seriously trying to write that sequel, but my descriptions for what happen in it are so poor. Gotta work on it more. :/
Ah well. It’ll be finished when it’s finished. XD
