Best Left Forgotten

Sunset relaxed beneath the comforter, Wallflower settling close beside her. As they huddled together in the dim amber lamplight, Sunset ran her fingers through her girlfriend’s long, tangled hair. Lovely as the silence was, she knew she had to raise the question eventually, and now was as good a time as any.

“Think you’re ready to start meeting my friends?” Sunset asked. “Properly this time, I mean.”

Wallflower sighed and scooted a little closer. “I dunno... I don’t think they’re going to like me very much.”

“Because of the memory—?” Sunset cut herself off as Wallflower deflated a little.

“It’s not that,” Wallflower said. “Though if they did still hate me for it, I mean... I’d understand.”

“They won’t, I promise.” Sunset forced a chuckle. “If they can forgive me for all the years of rotten stuff I did, I’m sure they can forgive you for one mistake.”

“Forgiving you is a lot easier,” Wallflower said. “You’re, y’know... You’re worth it.”

Sunset planted a soft kiss on Wallflower’s head. “So are you,” she said.

“Maybe to you.” Wallflower pressed a little further into Sunset. “But them? How am I worth it at all? How can I be worth having in their lives when all I do is force them to walk on eggshells around me?”

“Fluttershy has some pretty bad anxiety sometimes,” Sunset said. “That’s never mattered to any of us before.”

Wallflower shook her head. “Yeah, but she’s like you,” she said. “You’re both easy to be around, and I’m just... not.”

“Hey, hey...” Sunset spoke softly. “Be fair to yourself, okay? Being a little scared of other people isn’t something to be ashamed of, especially given what you’ve been through.”

“I’m not scared of them.” Wallflower’s voice was low and bitter. “I’m scared of being around them, because I know I’m gonna screw it all up somehow.”

Sunset chewed her lip. “I really don’t think that’s true. And even if you do have some trouble with social stuff, that’s okay. There’s no better group of people to practice with.”

“I just...” Wallflower twisted beneath Sunset’s arm until they were face to face. “They’re your best friends, Sunset. I’ve already come between you and them twice now. I really don’t want to do that again.”

“I told you, what happened last week is on me, not you.” Sunset shook her head, sighing. “I’m the one who didn’t bother to keep up with them for a month.”

“A month you spent having to practically babysit me,” Wallflower said. “The only reason you couldn’t keep up with them was because you were so busy with my stupid neediness.”

“No, Wallflower, that’s not...” Sunset stopped herself. If Wallflower learned how easily the girls had moved on without their memories—how that had proved Sunset was useless, unneeded—it’d just be one more thing she’d wrongfully blame herself for. “I think I needed some space from them anyway.”

“Sunset...”

“It’s fine,” Sunset said. “I promise.”

Wallflower’s only reply was to gently nuzzle the crook of Sunset’s neck. Her arm rested on Sunset’s midsection, Sunset pulled her close, and for a while both girls just held each other. It was moments like this that made the long hours and tight budgets worth it—cuddling at home, hidden from the world, the flame in her heart burning away her fears and doubts. Here Sunset was comforted, calm, safe.

An airy sigh escaped her as she felt Wallflower’s slow, even breaths softly brushing against her neck. Green fingers found her own, and as they twined together, Wallflower slowly raised her head to meet Sunset’s gaze with those warm brown eyes. It was all Sunset could do to sit still and let Wallflower come to her, pressing their lips together. Sunset shivered as the kiss held, caution harshly shoving any lurking desires back into the corners of her mind where they crawled from.

Take it slow, for Wallflower’s sake.

Of course, it became a lot more difficult to stick to that mantra when Wallflower deepened the kiss, drawing a surprised squeak from Sunset. This was still okay, right? Of course it was—Wallflower was the one pressing forward. Sunset pushed against the analytical gears turning in her head, choosing instead to focus on the warmth and softness of the girl in her arms.

This was fine. So long as Sunset didn’t overthink it, or do anything stupid, then it was fine.

Eventually they had to break apart, if only to catch their breath. As they did Sunset took the fleeting opportunity to ask again. “Just give them a chance? Please?” She did her absolute best to sound encouraging. “I know it’s a big change from the past few weeks, but I think it’ll be good for you. For both of us.”

“I don’t even know where to begin, though,” Wallflower said, squirming a bit as she returned to her spot tucked beneath Sunset’s arm. “I’m not good at making friends like you are.”

Just like that, Sunset had an idea. “Well your birthday is coming up soon, right?” When Wallflower hesitantly nodded, Sunset grinned. “Well that’s perfect then! I can’t think of a better icebreaker than a Pinkie Pie party.”

Again, Wallflower fidgeted. “I-I don’t do well with crowds,” she said, her voice shrinking with every word.

Sunset nodded. “We’ve got a couple weeks. What if I just invite one or two of them over at a time?” she asked. “It doesn’t have to be everyone, or every day. That way you can get to know them a little better in a calmer environment. I know it’s a lot, but I can’t be the only person you speak to on a regular basis, y’know?”

Wallflower didn’t answer, which was about as good as a ‘no.’ About as good, but not quite. Willing or not, they needed to do this.

“I’ll invite Pinkie over tomorrow, okay? If we’re gonna have a party she’ll need time to prepare,” Sunset said. The pouty face Wallflower gave her just about snapped her resolve, and she forced herself to look away. It took nearly half a minute of silence before she caught a slight nod in her periphery.

“Oh, and I should probably have Rarity come by too,” Sunset said. “She mentioned there was something she wanted to give you anyway. Now’s as good a time as any, right?”

Wallflower’s pout twisted into a full-on frown. “She doesn’t have to do that.”

“Trust me, it’s better not to fight her on it,” Sunset chuckled. “She’s gonna do it either way.”

Wallflower grumbled a bit, but didn’t press the issue further. Satisfied, Sunset again found her girlfriend’s hand and squeezed it gently. “This’ll work out, Wallflower,” she said. “It won’t be easy at first, and maybe not for a little while, but it’s gonna be worth it.”

Sunset sat beside Wallflower on the couch, rolling her eyes as Pinkie Pie paced back and forth before them, seemingly pondering something.

“What,” Pinkie spoke slowly, “is your favorite color?”

“Uhm...” Wallflower shifted beneath the glare of the table lamp, which Pinkie had tilted to shine right in her face. “I guess I like pink...?”

“Ooooooh!” Pinkie’s sudden giddy shout made both girls flinch. “No way! No. Way. Pink is my favorite color too!”

Wallflower avoided eye contact with Pinkie’s manic gaze. If the way she was gripping Sunset’s hand like a vice was anything to go by, she was already nearing her limit only one question in.

“Curious,” Rarity said, not glancing up from the pad of paper she was filling with notes. “I would have guessed green.”

“Of course,” Wallflower muttered. Sunset barely caught the words, but they were likely too quietly to be heard by anyone else.

Sunset took a slow, deep breath, holding back a well-practiced glare. Rarity obviously didn’t mean any harm. No need to make a big deal out of it.

“Okay, next one’s really important,” Pinkie said. “Favorite kind of birthday cake?”

“I’ve, uhm...” Wallflower blinked back at Pinkie. “I’ve never had a birthday cake.”

The sharp gasp that followed would’ve been more fitting if Pinkie had been holding her breath for a solid ten minutes. Again Wallflower flinched, and this time Sunset couldn’t bite her tongue. “Take it down a notch, Pinkie,” she said.

“Maybe two,” Rarity added. “Just to be safe.”

“Oop, sorry!” Somehow even Pinkie’s whisper was overbearing. She gave a quick salute, to which both Sunset and Rarity rolled their eyes. “That’s just so sad, though,” she whimpered. “You’re already a grown-up and you’ve never had your own birthday cake?”

Wallflower hunched over like she was being scolded. “I-I, uhm... Sorry...”

“Nope!” Pinkie’s frizzy hair flailed as she shook her head. “No sorries in my town, missy. If anything, this just means you deserve a cake amazalicious enough to make up for all the years before!”

“That’s not a real word, dear,” Rarity said, nose still buried in her notebook.

“Well it should be!”

“I-I dunno,” Wallflower said. “I don’t know what I’d like.”

Sunset smiled as softly as she could. “You liked that fancy chocolate thing at the coffee shop, right? I bet a chocolate cake would be even better.”

At that, Wallflower perked up a bit, but before she could reply Pinkie blurted out, “The triple mocha frappuccino at Java Bean’s?!”

“Triple?” Wallflower blinked. “I only ever had the double.”

“The triple has the frappe, the chocolate drizzle and chocolate shavings!” Pinkie’s gleeful grin could light up a city block. “We’ll have to go there sometime so you can try it!”

To her credit, Wallflower didn’t immediately decline, but Sunset knew better than to let her stew in silence. “So... Chocolate cake, then?” she asked.

“O-oh, yeah, that would be nice,” Wallflower said. “You really don’t need to do anything special for me, though.”

“Think nothing of it,” Rarity said. “Everyone deserves something special from time to time. Oh, and speaking of which!“ Without another word, she stood and exited the apartment, the door left hanging ajar behind her. Sunset craned her neck to peek out the window, where she spotted Rarity retrieving something from the passenger seat of her car. Seconds later, she was shuffling back into the apartment with a pair of potted plants in her arms.

“I saw these precious little ferns and just knew they’d be perfect for you,” Rarity announced as she placed them on the table in front of Wallflower. Each plant was scarcely more than a dozen small stems with tiny, soft green leaves lining them, which weaved and tangled among themselves as they flowed down the sides of the white ceramic pots they were housed in. “The man at the store said they’re a bit tricky to care for, but something tells me you’ll more than manage.”

For the first time since the girls had arrived, Wallflower wore a genuine smile. “Maidenhairs,” she said, rubbing one of the rounded leaves between her fingers. “I’ve always wanted to try growing one.”

“And now you can grow two.” Rarity grinned proudly.

As quickly as Wallflower’s smile came, it faded. “You didn’t have to do this for me,” she said.

“Oh hush, darling.” Rarity waved a hand. “That’s exactly why I did it.”

Sunset glanced back at the ferns as Wallflower’s expression shifted. “So Wallflower,” she spoke clearly, "where should we put them? Do they need a lot of light?”

“What?” Wallflower looked to Sunset, then back at the plants. “Oh, uhm, I don’t think so. Not direct sunlight, at least.”

“The upstairs window might be good for that,” Sunset said. “Maybe we can get a shelf to put by your side of the bed.”

As soon as the words left her lips, Sunset clamped her mouth shut, her eyes darting around the room. Pinkie Pie wasn’t even listening, being too occupied with twirling one of the fern’s stems around her finger. Wallflower seemed not to notice, nodding slightly as she lifted one of the plants from the table into her lap. Only Rarity had a knowing smirk on her face, but she remained silent.

Whatever, it didn’t matter anyway. Why did Sunset even care so much? There was nothing wrong with the girls knowing about her and Wallflower. And even if there was, she wouldn’t care. She didn’t have to justify her feelings to anyone—especially not to people who didn’t care about them in the first place.

No, that was wrong. That was stupid. Of course they cared. And if they cared, they’d understand if Sunset didn’t want to talk about it. It was private, after all. It was none of their business. They didn’t need to know the details of her life any more than they needed her in their lives.

“Sunset?” Wallflower’s voice cut through Sunset’s thoughts. “Do we have a spray bottle I could use?”

“Uhm... Y-yeah, I’m sure there’s an extra one around here,” Sunset said. “You might wanna clean it out first, though.”

“Of course, of course.” Wallflower continued inspecting the fern, peeling back its stems to look at the soil beneath. “Can I come with you the next time you go to the store? Maybe I could get a few things for this.”

Now that was a surprise. Sunset nodded, grinning. “You don’t have to ask, silly. We can go tomorrow, if you’d like.”

“That’d be nice, I think,” Wallflower said. A few seconds of silence passed, then she turned to Rarity. “Uhm, thank you very much. I really appreciate it.”

“My genuine pleasure.” Rarity smiled. “I considered bringing you a few empty pots and some soil so that you might plant some seeds from scratch, but I figured it best to run such a thing by you first.” Her voice lowered to a not-at-all-quiet whisper. “Between you and me, darling, this place could use some flowers to liven it up.”

“Yeah... I bet we could manage that.” As Wallflower looked around the apartment, Sunset wondered what ideas might be springing forth in her mind. How expensive were pots and bags of soil, anyway? It couldn’t be too much. Even if it was a little pricey, it was worth it to make Wallflower happy.

One thing at a time, though. Sunset turned to Pinkie, who was still fiddling with a fern. “Think you’ve got enough to start planning the party?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am!” Pinkie chimed as she stood up. “Chocolate cake and pink balloons are the foundation of any party worth throwing.”

“Th-thank you too,” Wallflower said, her smile straining. “I’m, uhm... I’m looking forward to it.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Pinkie crossed her arms, nodding sagely. “Never fear, birthday girl, you just leave everything to your Auntie Pinkie.”

The banter continued back and forth until mid-afternoon when Pinkie and Rarity made their exits, much to Sunset’s relief. As Wallflower took one of the ferns up to the loft—supposedly to examine the light it would be getting—Sunset sank back into the couch cushions, exhausted. Today went about as well as it could have, all things considered. A little bumpy, maybe, but ultimately a success. Pretending nothing was wrong between her and the girls was even more draining in person, but that was fine too. It had to be.

Sunset could sort her personal issues out on her own time. For now, though, Wallflower needed her more.