My eyes move to a table near the edge of the room. I see her there, her mane a gentle pink. Her fur a creamy white. Two plates. One glass of wine. One remorseful gaze into a plate of food.
It's the sort of picture that makes me hurt inside. She's here almost every week. Waiting for somepony who is never going to come. I sigh, and turn my eyes to my date across from me.
"So what's it like working at the massage parlor? Wouldn't your hooves get sore?"
Lotus begins talking on and on about the massage parlor that she runs with her sister. I look down to my pale blue hooves just out of the corner of my eye. I have to make sure I look perfect. I spent weeks trying to make sure this would be a perfect first date, and I wouldn't want all that hard work to go to waste.
Her expression glows under the candlelight of our table. Her smile stretches from cheek to cheek as you can feel her excitement. It's likely not often that she gets to talk to somepony who cares about her massage work. Or is willing to listen to it with an open mind. So the perfect thing to do is to give it to her. That's what she wants.
I chuckle at the right times. Nod at the right times. Ask little questions like, 'Why so?' or 'Is that normal?' The conversation flows. Then, her eyes turn to me.
"But I've talked about me so much!" she says, her cheeks turning pink at the edges. "Hopefully I'm not boring you with all of my shop talk."
"Oh, not at all!" I say with a measured smile. "It's wonderful to see you light up about things you are passionate about. It feels like I'm seeing the real you."
The blush deepens, and I feel that familiar wave wash over me once more.
"So what do you do in Ponyville? Or, wait. You've only just arrived, haven't you?"
Not exactly, my dear Lotus.
"Oh yes!" I say, taking a sip of my wine. "Just moved here from Manehattan. I write for a living. Books and stuff. It's all terribly boring. But I moved to Ponyville to get a bit of a change of scenery."
"Oh? What do you write?"
And she took the bait.
"Oh, nothing special. Mostly romance. It's all cheesy and light and boring."
She leans inward. She doesn't know that I knew her secret love for schlock romance. That's why I always do my research. The attraction she shows from across the table is palpable.
"Really?" she asks. "I'd love to read your work sometime."
"Well, I don't know. I'm not really all that great."
Her expression becomes kind and caring. Perfect.
"I bet you're a wonderful writer. And that your books are great."
I put on a blush for her.
"Well, I'd really like that."
I walk her to her home, just a few blocks away from the spa. She leans her head against my body. I can't help but feel powerful. A confident stride in every step.
"I had the most wonderful time tonight, Breeze," Lotus whispers gently. "I haven't been on a date in... I don't know how long."
"Yeah?" I coo back. "Think you'd like to do this again sometime?"
"Oh yes! We must!" Lotus says enthusiastically as we approach her door. "Maybe next week?"
"I'd really like that," I say gently. She lingers on her doorstep. Her hooves fumbling. I know exactly what she wants.
There's no better way to polish a perfect first date than with an unforgettable kiss.
I lean in, and press my lips against hers. With it, I feel all of that love. All of that raw, delicious attraction flow into my body. I can feel the way my skin warms at the edges and my insides fill up with hot, bubbling mana from heaven.
Then she pulls away slowly. Her eyes a daze of ecstasy and glee. She giggles as she opens the door to her home.
"Next week," she says giddily, like a school filly as she steps inside.
"Next week," I say comfortingly.
I step away from her doorway, and once out of sight, I let the darkness of the night shroud the gentle green smoulder of my skin fading away.
There's fewer things more satisfying than the raw, unforgettable attraction of a first date. It can awaken the storybook love that ponies have dreamed of since foalhood. Like something they've read about in a fairytale. With every other date that passes, the partner only becomes more real. More flawed. More... normal.
No. The most delicious love is when they think you are flawless. Perfect. A dream given physical form.
There's few things as delicious as a one-night stand.
My eyes move to a table near the edge of the room. I see her there, her mane a gentle pink. Her fur a creamy white. Two plates. One glass of wine. One remorseful gaze into a plate of food.
The one who refuses to let go of the fairytale.
I sigh to myself, looking down to my pale green hooves. I look across the table to my date, who passionately talks about her tea business. My eyes move to the table behind her, where Lotus sits at a table with her sister. Two glasses of wine. Lotus gazes into a plate of pasta. Her sister consoling her.
For a moment I almost feel guilty.
"Really?" I ask my date. "I've tended to lean more towards a silk oolong formosa, but so many different shops let it just get old on the shelf as opposed to buying fresh ingredients. It's good to hear that some tea shops still care about quality."
And with a smile from her lips, a perk to her ears, and a little bit of gentle eye contact, that feeling of guilt washes away.
You can call me a monster if you want. I call myself a connoisseur.
Besides, it’s better to have loved and lost, right?
