"Does this look straight to you?"
“Does this look straight to you?”
“Yep!” Starlight Glimmer said, the smile on her face wearing painfully thin. “Sure does.”
Tongue poking out in focus, Twilight once again floated her bubble-level over to the wall, carefully comparing the pencil mark to the Hearth’s Warming wreath pinned against the wall by her magic. “I don’t know, I think it’s crooked.”
“It looks good from here,” said Starlight.
“Maybe a minute of arc or two counterclockwise?” Twilight’s wingbeats echoed off of the room’s high ceiling in a nauseating rhythm, counting off every second as it dragged by.
“I really think it’s fine.”
“How’s this?” Twilight adjusted the wreath slightly counterclockwise, and frowned. “No, that’s not right either.” Once again, out came the level.
Starlight’s teeth ground together with the intensity of a flour mill being fed rocks. “Twilight, this is ridiculous! It’s a wreath hanging on a wall about two stories above everyone’s heads. Nopony is going to notice. And if somepony does notice, they need to get a life.”
Twilight sighed and lowered her tools to the floor. “I know this is silly, but I want everything to be perfect. I’ve never hosted a Hearth’s Warming party with all of the Princesses before!”
“And I think you know them well enough by now that all of the little details don’t matter,” said Starlight. “They’re all coming here tonight to spend time together with us and get out of the spotlight for a little while, not judge you on your decorating skills.”
Sailing down in a spiral around the vast room, Twilight set down on the crystalline floor with a resounding clack. “You’re right,” she said with a smile, though that was offset by the faint dark circles under her eyes. “But I still want it to be perfect. You know how much I look up to them.”
“Then don’t get behind schedule by spending all your time deciding how to hang a wreath.” Starlight took the wreath and a nail in her own magic, floated them back up to the wall and drove the nail into the crystal halfway between the two tall windows. She set the wreath on it, where it settled a bit crooked, which was quickly fixed with a few adjustments. “There. All you need is a healthy measure of good enough.”
Twilight laughed. “Where would I be without you?”
“Dead, probably,” said another voice from behind them. Spike walked over to one of the wreath boxes strung out over the floor and peered inside. “How’s the decorating coming?” he asked between chews, his mouth full of cookie.
“Starting to get somewhere, actually,” said Starlight, nodding towards the three wreaths that had been hung in the last half hour.
He swallowed. “Got a ways to go in four hours.” His eyes traveled to the expanse of empty, unadorned walls around the rest of the corridor. “Do you think you’ll be ready in time?”
“I don’t know,” Twilight said, releasing a small sigh. “We’ll be cutting it close.”
“I bet I could get Rarity over here early to help you finish with all that stuff. Want me to go get her?” asked Spike.
“That’d be great, if she would,” said Starlight. “And you have all of the food handled, right?”
“Pies are in the oven, everything else is ready to go when it gets closer to go time,” said Spike. “You can totally count on me.”
“Excellent,” said Twilight, lifting another wreath out of its box. “Oh no!”
“What?” asked Starlight and Spike in unison.
Twilight bit her lip and pranced in place. “The bow on this one uses frosted ribbon. The others are plain!” The ensuing laughter turned her nervous panic into a bemused frown. “Ha-ha, very funny.”
“You’re about as predictable as Spike’s comic books, Twilight,” said Starlight, still not entirely over her mirth.
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” said Spike. “Anyhoo, I’m gonna run and get Rarity. Anything else before I head out?”
“I think we’re good. I can babysit on my own for a while,” Starlight said, shooting a smirk at Twilight, who rolled her eyes.
“Alright. I guess—oh! Right, almost forgot. Fluttershy stopped by a little while ago. She had to cancel, said Angel was sick or something.”
Twilight’s subtly growing smile deflated. “That’s too bad. I guess it’s important though, a lot more so than our party.”
“Yeah, her animals are basically her family.” Spike turned to leave. “Welp, gotta fly. See ya!” With that, he took off back the way he came, his wings spread. Starlight knew that the moment he stepped out of the castle, he’d take to the air. It had been over a year since he’d gone through the molt and grown them, but he was still in the honeymoon phase, taking every possible opportunity to fly that he could get his claws on.
Starlight watched him leave, and right as he left the corridor, a thought popped into her head. There was one more question that she wanted to ask him. “Hang on Twilight, I just remembered something I need to talk to Spike about, I’ll be right back.”
Twilight cocked an eyebrow but didn’t ask any questions. “Sure, I’ll go ahead and get started.”
“Great!” Starlight charged her horn. The tingle of magical energy rippled through her body, and with an electric pop, the castle’s main corridor was replaced with the front steps. She’d popped in right behind Spike, who was poised and ready for takeoff.
“Spike!”
The dragon yelped in surprise. “I swear, having two unicorns around the house who can teleport, you’d think I’d be used to jumpscares like that.”
“Sorry,” said Starlight with a giggle. “I just thought of one more thing I wanted to ask you.”
“Oh, alright. Shoot,” said Spike, lowering his wings to his sides.
“Are there any other ponies who might have cancelled on us?”
Spike shook his head. “Not that I know of, no. Why?”
Starlight hesitated, unsure of whether or not she should tell him exactly what was going on. Spike seemed to pick up on that, because he narrowed his eyes a bit.
“What’s going on Starlight? You always break eye contact when you’re nervous,” he said.
“What? I do not!” Starlight protested, and then she realized that she was looking at a mailmare flying far in the distance.
“Gotcha,” said Spike, with a snicker. “Starlight, you’re basically like a sister to me. If there’s anything you need to talk about, you can tell me. Alright?”
With a sigh, Starlight lowered her guard. “I messed up, Spike. I messed up bad.” She snuck a glance at Spike, who was looking on expectantly, and she continued. “The other night, things got a little weird between me and Trixie.” Starlight swallowed a lump in her throat. “We were just hanging out by her cart, kinda like we always do. She said she wanted to show me some new fireworks she bought the other day, so she goes in the cart to get them...”
“And?”
Starlight blinked. She must have gotten lost in the thought. “Sorry. She goes into the cart to get them, and you know how small and cramped that thing is. She says she’s having trouble finding them, so I go in to try and help. She’s standing on top of her hammock, fumbling with a box, and then she fell right on top of me.”
“Wow, really weird, Starlight,” said Spike.
“I’m not finished. When she fell on me, we ended up on her floor with her lying on top of me, and we’re pretty much face to face.” Starlight paused, steeling herself for the kicker. “I have no idea what I was thinking. We laughed for a second, but instead of just helping her get back up and moving on, I put my hoof around her. I leaned in.”
“I tried to kiss her.”
For his part, Spike looked every bit as shocked as she expected him to. “You what?”
“I don—”
Spike grinned and jumped up, giving her a light punch on the shoulder. “Starlight, I didn’t know you had it in you! What did she do?”
That memory stung as it played in her head. Trixie’s eyes going wide as she scrambled to her hooves. The sudden realization of what she’d just tried to do sinking in. The moment of stifling silence that seemed to last forever, until Starlight’s panic won over and she bolted out of the trailer and away from Trixie as fast as her hooves could carry her.
“She... didn’t take it well,” said Starlight, her ears falling back on her head. “And I ran off before she could tell me exactly how badly it went.”
Spike’s elation fell away. “Oh. It’s one of those, huh?”
“Yup,” said Starlight. “It just sort of happened. I’m pretty sure we’ve talked about it before and she doesn’t swing that way. I don’t have any idea what I was thinking.”
“Probably that she felt nice pressed against you,” said Spike.
“Shut up,” said Starlight, unamused.
“Alright, alright, I get it. Sore subject,” said Spike. “So, what did you do after that?”
“I came straight here and I’ve avoided her ever since.”
“I see. Very mature. And how long ago was this?”
“Three days ago.”
“Ouch,” said Spike. “Okay, so you were wondering if maybe she’d cancelled on the party because she doesn’t want to talk to you?”
“I was kind of expecting it, honestly. But then again, Trixie isn’t the best with manners, so if she’s not going to show, then she probably wouldn’t call ahead.”
Spike tapped his chin, “Or maybe she’s still coming?”
Starlight gulped. That possibility, however unlikely, was one that she was still not prepared for. It would be hard to just never speak to Trixie ever again, but she could deal with that. One more regret to add to her long list wouldn’t be too much more to bear, but the idea of having a confrontation? Of having to hash it out with Trixie and talk about what happened? To get publicly shamed for taking such a giant misstep in front of her friends at the party that night?
“Look, Starlight, unless you’re holding out on me with some important details, we don’t know what Trixie thought of your little move. Maybe she wasn’t totally against it, who knows?”
Starlight scoffed. “No, no way. If you saw the look in her eyes, you’d know. There’s no way what I did could ever be remotely seen as a positive.”
“Well, regardless. If she shows to the party tonight, you can talk about what happened with her there. If not, oh well.”
“Oh well, gee, Spike, thanks for grasping the weight of the situation.”
Spike rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. Whatever happens, things will work out somehow.” He took a step backwards and flared his wings, “Look, I really need to get over to Rarity’s, and you need to get back in there and make sure Twilight doesn’t have a panic attack. We’ll talk about this later,” he said. With a wave, he flapped his wings and took to the sky, leaving Starlight alone on the castle steps.
Starlight wanted to say something snarky after him as he left, but she came up short and simply teleported back inside.
Rarity joining in on the decorating was among the best decisions that could have been made. Once the fashionista waltzed into the castle carrying an unfathomable array of decorations in a bubble of magic so big it hardly fit through the massive double doors, things went a lot more quickly and smoothly. Twilight and Starlight were almost entirely nixed from decorating duty, with Rarity assuming basically all of the work.
The place had almost completely transformed over the last couple of hours. The decorating was par-excellence, wreaths lining the walls with other assorted greenery and ribbon thrown in all the right places with a big, tall, fully-decorated Hearth’s Warming tree standing proudly at in the center of the corridor. The normally cold, empty passageway had turned into an inviting and festive plaza in what felt like the blink of an eye.
At seven o’clock on the dot, the first knock at the door announced the beginning of the party. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, ever professional, were the first through the door, with Applejack and her family following close behind, followed by the rest of Twilight’s friends minus Fluttershy. The castle filled with the dull roar of conversation, echoing off the high vaulted and making the space come alive.
High above the festivities, Starlight stood leaning against the railing of one of the balconies, a glass of champagne in hoof. She’d watched as the party grew and waved down her greetings to the few who’d noticed her up there, but her attention was on the door, watching it with hope in her heart and dread in her head. But as time dragged on and the one guest she was waiting for didn’t come, she felt that hope shrink with every tick of the clock. Thirty-six minutes after seven, the clock read, and Trixie was still nowhere to be seen.
Starlight took another sip of champagne and sighed. After all the mental preparation she’d done that day to try and get herself ready for what she had to do tonight, now she wanted nothing more than be reclusive and go hide in her room. Watching all of the ponies she knew down there having a good time just made the knot in her gut pull tighter.
“Starlight?”
She looked over to her left, where Spike was walking up to her.
“You good?”
Starlight sighed.
“You know I’m not leaving,” said Spike, assuming a place next to her, leaning against the railing. “Might as well talk to me.”
Silence lingered for a few seconds, but it quickly eroded. “She didn’t show up,” said Starlight.
“Oh, come on, you don’t know that,” said Spike. “Maybe she’s just running late.”
“Trixie is never late when there’s free food,” said Starlight. There should have been a laugh to go with that sentence, but a sigh took its place.
Words seemed to fail both of them, and they just stood there watching the other guests below for a few minutes.
Finally, Spike spoke up. “Well, it’s not like this party is the be all end all. You could just go talk to her about it tomorrow,” he offered.
“If she’s avoiding this party because of me, what makes you think she’d want to speak with me tomorrow?” She took a long gulp of champagne, finishing off the glass. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, Spike, but it’s over. I ruined the best friendship I’ve ever had, and nothing you’re gonna tell me can fix that.” She broke off of the railing, heading for the door behind them. “There’s more champagne in the kitchen, right?”
“I moved it all out for the party,” said Spike.
“Of course you did.”
Having antisocial moments in the middle of social gatherings was one of Starlight’s least favorite pastimes, yet it seemed to happen to her far more often than was called for. Everypony around looking for conversation, saying hello and trying to drum up idle conversation when her head just wasn’t in it.
It was far worse when it was a room full of ponies she knew.
“Hello, Starlight Glimmer. It is good to see you again,” said Princess Luna.
“Hey, Starlight!” announced Rainbow Dash the instant she entered the room. “We need another player for Cards Against Equestria, wanna join?”
She dismissed them as quickly and politely as she could, slowly making her way towards the refreshments table, where that sweet, sweet alcohol was waiting for her.
“Hiya Starlight! Are you enjoying the party? Have you tried the cookies? Wanna come over and help me get set up for Secret Windigo? HEY MAUD check this out!”
Pinkie Pie made it especially difficult to keep sanity alive in a moment like this. Luckily, with the amount of sugar coursing through her system, she got distracted by the next shiny thing that she noticed and left Starlight alone to get her drink. Glass filled to the brim with the bubbly stuff, she immediately turned and made a beeline for the exit, her plastered on smile wearing thinner and thinner by the second.
As she neared the doorway, however, a sound she wasn’t expecting made her stomach do a somersault. The front door opened, the hinges groaning with the weight of the two-story tall door as it swung open, allowing a rush of cold air into the room.
“Trixie is here!” came the voice, sending a chill down Starlight’s spine. Standing there in the entry was the blue mare herself, standing with her usual cocky posture and overconfident grin. She had a light purple scarf and stocking cap on, a look that Starlight had to admit was super cute…
Apparently her insides had been taking gymnastics courses when she wasn’t looking, because they did a double backflip and pole-vaulted into her throat all at once. I can’t let her see me like this, she thought, picking up her pace as she made for the exit. Right as she came up to the door, in a cruel twist of fate, it swung open in her face. And of course, it was Spike stepping through, sporting a grin that looked every bit as predatory as it did goofy.
“See, Starlight? All you needed was to get down here and join the party. I bet you’re already feeling a lot better.” Apparently he still hadn’t noticed who was just walking in.
“Spike, this isn’t a good time.”
“Will it ever be a good time for you?” he asked, taking her by the hoof. “Come on, you have to get in on this game of cards. Rainbow just bought all of the expansion decks!”
“Spike,” pleaded Starlight, shooting him the most intense “help me” eyes she could muster.
He wasn’t even looking at her. “I won’t take no for an answer. It’ll be good for you to come talk to ponies and get your mind off things.” He puffed out his chest and smirked. “Fillies and gentlecolts, you don’t have to worry any more. I’m here. The party can officially start now,” Spike announced, earning a few giggles and eyerolls from the other guests. He was leading Starlight by a hoof, dragging her further into the fire and flames, and yet she allowed it. It would have been so easy to just teleport away and flee what was surely shaping up to be a very bad turn of events, but there were a lot of eyes on her now. Doing something rash like that would bring a lot of unwanted attention.
No worries. I can just lay low, make sure I’m always on the opposite side of the room from her! Starlight’s eyes darted back and forth, searching for where Trixie might have been standing—Oh no, he’s leading me right to her. Starlight tugged backwards, trying to get Spike to stop, but the dragon’s grip was surprisingly strong for his size. He didn’t seem to notice her silent plea for mercy, and kept leading her towards her doom. Trixie looked up and spotted her, and that was the moment Starlight resigned herself to certain death. Trixie’s typical cocksure grin wasn’t there, instead replaced with wide-eyed unease. She was nervous, probably just as much as Starlight was.
And just like that, they were face to face. Spike seemed to drop her off right in front of Trixie, and was suddenly nowhere to be seen. He knew exactly what he was doing. I’m gonna beat that little turd up later for this. Neither mare spoke for a few moments, the awkward silence growing from painful to agonizing in a hurry.
“Hey… Starlight,” said Trixie, her words unsteady, uncertain.
“Hey,” said Starlight, eyes wide, mouth dry.
The swirling cloud of awkwardness and anxiety looming over the two mares grew larger. Trixie couldn’t seem to find her words. Starlight surely couldn’t. The pony in front of her, with whom she could always find something interesting to talk about, the pony who she loved spending time with, the pony who truly got her like nopony else did, suddenly felt like a stranger. Starlight’s stomach, already twisted tight with nerves, tried to impossibly constrict even further.
I have to get out of here. Starlight took a shaky step backwards. “Well, good seeing you,” she muttered, adding a few more steps distance between herself and Trixie.
“Yeah, likewise,” said Trixie, still frozen in place.
Starlight did an about face and practically ran to the other side of the room. Safely hidden sitting on the floor behind the refreshment table, she finally took a deep breath, feeling pins and needles flow down each of her legs and fill her hooves. Stupid! Idiot! Why didn’t you say anything?
“What was that?”
Starlight whirled around, coming face to face with Spike, who was standing with his arms crossed.
“What was what?” she asked.
“What happened to all of that mindless confidence you were telling me about earlier? That was painful!.”
Starlight grimaced. “I don’t know, I panicked! Maybe if you’d let me psych myself up instead of just dropping me there in front of her, I wouldn’t have been such a wreck.” She pointed a glare at Spike.
“Alright, I admit, it was unfair of me to just drag you over to her,” said Spike. “But I know you, and if I wasn’t here to kick you in the rump, you’d be upstairs hiding until it was too late.”
Instead of snapping off the comeback she wanted, Starlight couldn’t help but concede that point. “I need help, I get it. But that is exactly the wrong kind of help.”
“Noted,” said Spike. “I won’t force you too much, but I’m still playing wingdragon tonight. We’re gonna make this happen, or my name isn’t Spike.”
“I’m going to die,” Starlight muttered.
“Ok, so we need a new game plan. What’s it going to take for you to not turn into a puddle in front of her?” He looked expectantly at her, his face deadpan and serious in place of the smirk Starlight expected.
He’s not joking. Spike, for all his charms, was the type that tended to come at romance with a sledgehammer. His relationship advice usually consisted of “Just do it!” or “Go get ‘em, tiger!”, and that was exactly the brush he was using to paint Starlight’s situation, as evidenced by the fact that his first plan of action was to just throw her in and hope for the best.
“No,” said Starlight. “Spike, I appreciate that you’re trying to help, but I would prefer it if you left it to me to figure this out.”
With a chuckle, Spike waved that off. “Just wait until you hear my plan,” he said, producing a pen and a piece of paper. “So, first of all we’re going to need something to lure her away from the rest of the party—”
“No!” shouted Starlight. She pulled him over and put her face right in front of his. “Listen to me, you scaly dingbat. This is a very, very delicate situation. I don’t need you sticking your nose into it and making things worse than they already are.” She shook him by the shoulders for emphasis, bobbing his head. “I. Will. Handle. It! Understood?”
She’d expected him to be a little scared, or at least come off of his plans, but instead he popped a wide, toothy grin. “See, there’s that confidence you needed,” he said, shaking himself free of her grip. “I knew it was there, just needed a little prodding to bring it out.”
Dumbfounded, Starlight stared at him wide-eyed for a few seconds. He’d been playing her like a fiddle with that whole wingdragon schtick. “Spike, I hate you.”
“Don’t use that on me,” he said, “Take that aggression and get back out there, champ!”
Starlight took a deep breath and stood tall. Thanks to Spike, those butterflies in her stomach didn’t seem so restless. She set her jaw and entered the breach once more, wading her way through the night’s festivities. It sounded like Twilight was trying to organize a game of charades, or some other game that didn’t rely on a physical medium. Not that it mattered to her, anyway. There were bigger oats to brown at the moment.
There she was, dead ahead. Trixie was standing in the same spot as before, still wearing her scarf and holding a mug of warm cider. She was in the middle of a conversation with Maud Pie, which made Starlight hesitate for a moment. She was determined, but that didn’t mean she was going to be rude to anyone besides Spike. After watching for a moment, she could see that Trixie was the one entirely leading the conversation, her usual charisma on full display.
Starlight sighed. She really was something special. She seemed to be telling Maud all about her magic act, and the way her eyes filled with exuberance, the way she talked with her hooves as much as she did with her mouth, it brought a smile to Starlight’s face. Until three days ago, she hadn’t given much thought to Trixie as anything more than a friend, but here, now, she had no idea why it had taken her so long.
But now, things would never be the same. No matter what she did, no matter how far she pushed the thoughts away from her mind, Trixie was no longer just her best friend anymore. Whatever happened tonight, better or worse, the friendship she had with that beautiful little mare standing on the far wall was going to be different.
Starlight’s smile faded. It really was going to be different now. But exactly what kind of different it was hinged on this next conversation. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly through her nose, eyes closed. Breathe. Relax. You can do this. She opened her eyes and took a step forward. Suddenly her legs felt like they were made of gelatin, and the hoard of butterflies in her stomach morphed into a vicious swarm of wasps, using her internal organs as a dartboard.
Great. Way to psych yourself out again. No turning back, no matter how her body decided to fail her. This was it. Another step forward, and then she’d caught Trixie’s eye. Her chat with Maud immediately went on hold. Her eyes locked on Starlight, she was frozen in place like a changeling in a spotlight.
“Hey again,” said Starlight, trying her best to sound chipper.
“Hey yourself,” said Trixie. “Trixie will finish telling you about the fireworks display later, Maud.” Maud nodded and turned to leave, nodding to Starlight on her way off.
“So, nice party,” said Starlight, taking a sip of champagne. Something in the back of her mind told her that she needed to slow down, but that just urged her to take another sip.
“It sure is. Princess Twilight sure knows how to throw a good Hearth’s Warming party,” said Trixie.
Why is this so hard? Starlight looked at Trixie, and Trixie looked back. The words were there on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t figure out how to say them. She wanted her next sentence to be perfect, to set the tone in just the right way that would give her the best chance of saving herself, but that exact combination of words eluded her.
“We need talk…” said Starlight. “...talking. To talk.” She mimed a gag, shuddering. That was as smooth as sandpaper. “I can’t say words tonight,” she said, chuckling to herself. Maybe laughing off the mistake would work.
Trixie giggled, which was at least a good sign.
“I don’t know where to start, but I guess the best place would be to apologize,” said Starlight. “I don’t know what came over me, but it was a huge mistake and I’m sorry for putting you through that.” She cleared her throat. “I, uh, I don’t really know what I was thinking.”
Trixie’s ears flattened back on her head and she opened her mouth to reply, but that was when she looked up. Starlight followed her line of sight upwards, and that was when she saw it. Hanging on the wall directly over them was a small plant, and hovering directly next to it was none other than Spike.
“Uh oh, look what we have here!” he announced, drawing the attention of several other guests, Princess Cadance notably the first. “Looks like somepony’s under the mistletoe!”
Starlight glanced around, her pupils the size of pinpricks. There were a lot of eyes on her. A lot of eyes on Trixie. Everypony was watching them, their smiles seemingly insidious and predatory. She snapped back to Trixie, who was now sporting a heavy blush. Back up to Spike, who looked positively pleased with himself.
“I… what…”
“You know the rules, Starlight!” he said, his voice about twice as smug as his grin.
How did that happen? Starlight had seen the room’s decorations. She knew where the mistletoe was. It was not on that wall directly above Trixie. There was no way she could have had an oversight like that.
Spike put it there. This was another one of his attempts at “helping”.
“No, this isn’t—”
An insidious giggle rang down from above. A few other ponies in the room joined him. They were expecting her to kiss Trixie. Right now. In front of all of them.
Starlight blushed deep red. She frantically searched the room high and low, looking for some way to get the attention off of herself. The pressure was too much. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. Her lungs cried for air, and she gulped down a breath that stumbled down her suddenly parched throat. The air was hot. The crowd was standing too close. It was all too much.
With no other options, Starlight’s brain slammed the panic button, and…
“I can’t!”
...she teleported out of the room.
“Hello? Starlight?” The bedroom door opened slowly, allowing in a stream of light from the hallway that shone directly onto the form of a pony on the bed, buried under a mountain of blankets.
“Go away,” came Starlight’s voice, muffled by the covers.
“Starlight,” Trixie scolded, flipping the room’s lights on. “It’s just me. You can come out.”
“I don’t want to,” said Starlight. “Everything outside of these blankets sucks.”
Trixie took a seat on the end of the bed, pulling the blanket down just enough to reveal Starlight’s mane, which was ruffled and messed up by the blanket fort. “I have to admit, that was quite a show you put on down there for everypony,” she said. “I got asked a lot of questions. Twilight is really worried about you.”
Starlight groaned and pulled the covers back over herself.
“Right, that’s probably not a good thing to think about right now,” said Trixie. “Are you okay, Starlight? I don’t know why, but you have been acting very strange lately.” For a pony as boisterous as Trixie, hearing her talk in such a quiet, gentle voice was slightly unnerving.
“I wish I could answer that,” said Starlight. “I don’t think I know anything anymore.”
Trixie pulled back on the covers and revealed Starlight’s head once again. “Starlight, will you just sit up and talk to me?”
Starlight complied reluctantly. Her vision was a little blurry, her eyes still wet with tears from the volley of sobs that had broken loose as soon as she popped into her room. Trixie was obviously taken aback by her appearance. The mere sight of Trixie was enough to bring more tears to Starlight’s eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Trixie,” Starlight choked out, the last word obscured by shuddering breaths.
“It’s okay, Starlight,” said Trixie, reaching across the bed to console her. “I’m not mad at you.”
“You should be!” Starlight insisted. “I stepped entirely out of line the other day. I never should have made a move like that. I—”
Trixie’s hoof closed her mouth for her. “Starlight, this is feeling awfully one-sided.”
“Huh?”
“All you’re talking about is what you did. How you ‘stepped out of line’. How you ‘shouldn’t have done that.’ Of course you shouldn’t have tried to kiss me, but I think you’re blowing this way out of proportion.”
Starlight wasn’t even sure that the right words existed to properly respond. She stayed silent.
“Do you think you’re the first pony that ever tried to pull a move on The Great and Powerful Trixie?” With a laugh, Trixie sent a jolt through Starlight’s entire body. The emotion was hard to exactly place, but it landed somewhere squarely between seething frustration and sweet relief. “Starlight, sweetie, a showmare like me has had plenty of ponies try their luck. I’ve seen just about everything you could imagine in that department, probably a few things you couldn’t. I didn’t take that attempted kiss personally. Like I said, I’m not mad at you.”
Trixie paused for a moment, mulling something over to herself. “I guess I’m just surprised is all. You, of all ponies. I didn’t know you were into narcissistic showmares like me”
A bright, rosy blush colored Starlight’s cheeks. “Yeah, I am, I guess.” She scratched the back of her head.
Trixie smiled, her eyes suddenly warmer. “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret.”
Starlight’s blush deepened. There was no way this was going where it was going.
“I have a little thing for snarky know-it-alls.”
Somewhere deep in the recesses of Starlight’s mind, alarm bells went off and confetti streamed in from places unknown as a little version of herself jumped up and down on a stage, screaming in joy. A very long-winded announcer somewhere nearby yelled “JACKPOT” at the top of his lungs over the top of a jazzy, up-tempo brass section.
“What?” The cranial game show was apparently using all of the synapses that were important to keep her functioning, and she just gaped at Trixie with an incredulous blank stare.
Trixie scooted a little further up the bed. “I like you back, Starlight.”
“But—”
“Yes, you making a move on me the other day was a bit of a rude surprise, but it wasn’t a bad surprise.”
Starlight shook her head, clearing away all of the bells and whistles. “Wait, wait, wait a second.” Her brain was just starting to click into gear. Maybe the champagne was having more of an effect on her than she’d noticed. “You’re saying that you liked it?”
Trixie nodded. “As far as my random suitors are concerned, you were definitely one of the best.”
In spite of the tangled knot in her gut, Starlight laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Trixie joined her in laughing. “To think I got all worked up over this, and you were actually into it! Gosh, and I was all worried about us not being friends anymore, and how things will nev—”
Starlight’s eyes widened as Trixie placed a hoof over her mouth. This wasn’t exactly a foreign gesture between the two of them, but here and now, it felt very different. “Shush,” said Trixie with a coy smile. “Let’s think about the hard things later.”
“I can get behind that,” said Starlight. Trixie scooched the rest of the way over to her, sitting on the edge of the bed right next to what remained of the blanket fort. They stared into each other’s eyes for a few moments, enjoying the tranquility of the room, the noise of the party but a faint echo from the doorway.
“You know,” Trixie started, “We were under the mistletoe earlier, but we never made good on it.”
“That’s right, we never did,” Starlight said. “I think Spike planted that stuff there on us.”
“Oh, he did,” said Trixie. She leaned in and closed her eyes, and Starlight doing the same. Their lips met, tingly electricity arcing through her body. In the midst of it, her mind began the shutdown process, allowing her body to take over and do its thing. But before her brain turned all the way off, one last thought ran through her head.
Thank you, Spike. I’m still beating you up tomorrow.
Author's Note
I entered Jinglemas this year before finals took a giant bite out of my soul, and I completely forgot that I was entered in the collaboration until about a week before the deadline. Thus, this story was written in a mad dash, going from concept development, writing despite already being busy with other things, and editing all in about six days. Personally, I think it came out pretty alright given the circumstances of its creation. Definitely not as polished as I would usually like, but still workable and hopefully enjoyable.
Did you like it? Did it suck? Make that comment box a little less lonely, let me know what you think!
