"I have to go now. I'll talk to you later." She hung up. It was a rather abrupt closing sentence to a conversation, encapsulating the joy she had experienced over the last two weeks.

Twilight wanted to chatter a little longer with whom she was speaking — the girl she had met at the workshop she had just returned from — but sadly couldn't. Her curiosity wouldn't let her. Something had rattled on a nearby dustbin, leaving her no choice but to investigate the noise's source — the girl was bored anyways.

Her friend, Sunset, should've supposedly picked her up by now but was nowhere to be seen, leaving Twilight nothing but disappointing confusion.

Although Twilight didn't want to admit it, she liked not grasping things (just a little) as it always meant for her to be able to learn something new. But from instances like this one, there was nothing to be gathered. Twilight had already intensely studied the human (obviously also the equine) psyche but, as usual, could only wonder what was going on inside Sunset's brain. It was intriguing yet frustrating — a feeling Sunset let Twilight often feel. Alongside waves of heat that is.

Twilight had now many times noticed that Sunset's body temperature drastically increased when being around her. Although, that wasn't the only thing that had let Twilight's interest in the girl's behavior reach new heights.

An unusual increase in Sunset's pupils' radius commonly accompanied by behavioral abnormalities, such as heavy breaths and tendencies towards Pica were quite intriguing. Had her transformation, no matter how long ago it first happened, had any influence on her biological features? Especially the potential hormone-based differences could be of importance.

She had to make a list!:

• investigation of Sunset's physical(/psychological~reconsideration of cancelled experiment 7c; response to consumption of repugnant substances) changes; focus on hormonal differentiations to humans: estrous cycle; menstrual cycle...

After many rearrangements, satisfied with her wording and formatting, Twilight advanced towards the trashcan still in puzzlement as to why Sunset hadn't arrived yet — had she forgotten? Had her alcohol abuse and reckless behavior finally caught up leaving her behind as a brain dead vegetable? Or had she "simply" started life as an ascetic wandering the woods of Kerala in search of god?
All seemed equally possible to the purple teen (she tended to overstate in situations of uncertainty).

The girl looked around, timidly stumbling forward. She moved as if walking across car-clustered streets only waiting for an avalanche of lacquered, polished aluminum to crush down on her. Why? Probably because her past experiences with vehicles had taught her that even a bus standing still could drive fear into the deepest depths of hell — how was that thing still in use?

• research of safety certifications and other laws regarding (public) transportation

Twilight was now about 8.371 feet (a more accurate estimation could not be provided due to optical impairment of the measurement's conductor (=she was blinded by the sun)) away from the trash can.
It was one of many standing periodically alongside the streets of watery snow extending past the girl's horizon — limitless it seemed.

The 'Park Vue Bins', uniformly dark-blue, differed in nothing but the amount of spray paint that had found its way onto their surfaces. Twilight analyzed the graffiti closely only growing further puzzled.
The girl murmured to herself: "Fgt? What does that stand for? F-f-f... hm." Twilight gaped into the distance drawing the startings of potential answers to her self-question into the air.
She somewhat looked like Vicky when her tender hands ceased moving and slowly placed themselves on her nose bridge — resting there awhile.
Twilight began looking silly as she buried her face increasingly deep in her open palms — a porcelain face packed in thin, purple tissue.

It was hard to tell whether the girl was sleeping or eating pocket-ravioli, yet, it somehow worked..:

"Franco-German Treaty! That's it." The ecstasy could be smelled miles away. Twilight Sparkle had once more proven herself to be one of the awesome™ kids (probably spelled with a 'z' although that would simply be ridiculous) as Rainbow Dash always said. Speaking of Rainbow... One of the cylinders had: "Does RD speak good French?" painted (was painted the right term?) over it.

• remedial education on "street painter slang"; in-depth studies later on

As if that wasn't enough, there was something added in another hand-writing just beneath the perplexing statement: "She a dike u dumbass, bitch ass hoes. With that shy bitch." Was that even English? The only thing Twilight could make out from that were several rather… inappropriate words. The rest was undefinable to her: "H.O.E.S? Is that a term ending on 's', an acronym or misuse of the plural form? But what's a hoe... or perhaps ho, then?" Her inability to understand any of what had been written led her to the conclusion that it'd be best to ask an expert on the subject of verbal intercourse among minors|adolescents, who was coincidentally also the matter of the conversation. But that would be for another time.

The girl had let herself be distracted for much too long. She even forgot to write down what she wanted to discuss with Rainbow when she regained focus — luckily, she had taken photos of the playfully colored bin. Yet, it would've probably not mattered all that much. Twilight was determined potential knowledge could wait for once. As long as it meant that the turbines roaring in her brain, powered by the mysterious noise, would fall silent and let her concentrate on more important things. Although, that too, had to be explored later on.

Eight feet (three extra digits seemed overly specific and not appropriate for such a non-scientific occasion) were no long interval, yet... nothing. They were no long interval. The girl didn't like embellishing facts. And socially accepted norms indicated that eight feet were, in fact, not considered a 'long interval' although the term 'distance' was probably used more commonly.

Rainbow would've probably agreed with her as she wasn't really fond of that style of writing in some of the earlier works of A.K. Yearling — it was just, so not awesome™. And that was totally not her. She would've probably not understood Twilight's reasoning and called her an 'Egghead'. But that was just Rainbow.

On the other hand, there was at least one person she knew would disagree with her on that matter.

Twilight, with now much quicker pace (however, still quite slow), walked plainly and without hesitation towards the can. Other people might've been afraid and unnerved if they'd heard something rattle in a place where that shouldn't happen, but not Twilight — at least during daytime.

The sun gave Twilight confidence. She had always felt as if it was... guiding her? She couldn't explain why but it had always been there, the feeling of safety and comfort when the brisk light shone onto her. It had always made her happy seeing how thin rays of light managed to dance their way through thick clouds. It seemed so... celestial — the use of that word felt amiss, yet conversely, it felt just... right.

However, there was something she loved more than the sun. Something very contradicting to the feelings of admiration she had shown. It was...

...Sunset.

She loved Sunset so very much because...

N-not her friend of course. That would just be silly.

B-because...

And weird. A-and t-totally inappropriate.

It's not like she didn't like her. Just not in that way.

R-right?

(The) Sunset
~by an amateur poet
[written during a boring German lesson]

Ich liebe ihn;
And I am oh so keen
To tell him
How much he means to me

Doch wie kann ich bloß
'st wahrlich ein schrecklich Los

A fate as grim as it might get
I'm hanging on strings;
will it be my neck?

If only I had wings
I'd fly to her
Fänd ich wohl kein Gehör

The Sunset I may never reach
And yet I beseech;

To be near you
And to hear you

And to smell, to taste
And let nothing go to waste

Oh, Sonnenuntergang,
Es grenzt an Zwang
To love you

For only, you may tell
When it is time to farewell
Yet you never do.

Oh, Sonnenuntergang,
You never do.

That's why I love you.

~

"What do you think girls?"

"I sure hope it'd be your neck."

"That's unrelated to the story and solely because you're a bitch that's pent up over the fact your bedpost is your best friend."

"It is related to the story but I guess you're not smart enough to figure that out, dog. None of them are good. So I guess it's even more than simply shit."

*sigh*

"This is all your fault. She's always been so full of herself and your approval isn't helping."

"I like them. And it's not like she's hurting anyone. And she's so totsies cute when she's so contemplative."

"You don't even know what that means."

"I do!"

*giggle*

*hug*

"Hmph. Stop that."

"Is everything ok?" Sunset wondered. She had prepared herself for Twilight's arrival several minutes ago. And yet, there was nothing to be seen, or heard for that matter.
The worry of finding herself in an embarrassing moment with her friend was squashed under that of the same friend being in danger. It sunk deep down into Sunset's memories to be rediscovered on another, more fitting, day.

The deafening silence was way too reminiscent of a certain night that had unfolded itself not too long ago. Angst sprang aloft clawing itself onto Sunset's ribcage. The girl could feel her heart sink as anxiety and dread entered through her pulmonary veins, swam skywards and crawled up her throat — consuming her brain, and with that, her calm and rationality.

There was no tapping of heels, no more cackling, hell, not even breathing. And Sunset didn't have the perseverance to idly sit and wait for something to happen.

She had to act. She couldn't be late a second time.

Sunset rapidly jumped up from her squatting position, starting not only her motion but the performance of an orchestra — an orchestra of bones. Not a good one, though. The music was clamorous at best. Especially her spine made noise as if being used as an accordion — usage as a flute would've been more fitting (obviously).

The following turn was slow, the instinct realization wasn't.

A warm breath, a sudden gasp, and a streak of hair.

Umpf

"Wh-what?" stammered Sunset. The girl's head was practically vibrating from the collision it had just witnessed — her ears were no better: Sound was choked until suffocation, before even being able to be processed.

"Ughn-n," came in response accompanied by a breath of... cinnamon?

Sunset slowly opened her eyes only to be greeted by a flickering, shaky image of... pink, or perhaps purple? Things slowly dawned on her — but cinnamon?

The girl carefully extended her left foot in search of the shoe which ought to have supposedly sat atop of the same. She felt a piece of firm cloth caressing first her hallux, and then its friends — It had to be near!

"H-Hello?" was asked feebly from opposite the girl — the voice felt distant and hollow. "I-I'm terribly sorry for running into you b-but I heard something a-and..." The rest was inaudible — too faint and carried away by the ever so slight breeze hushing past.

Dawn gave way too dusk. Her assumption of whom she had run into had been terribly false. Twilight was occasionally quite shy, but never to that extent. There was only one girl she knew who became anxious even when talking to herself.

"Fluttershy? What are you doing here? Weren't you supposed to be staying at Rainbow's or something?"

"Fl-Fluttershy? I'm—" The questioning intent and audible confusion rushed directly past Sunset (as well as the content of the answer), as she jumped in to interrupt the baffled girl.

"Ah, was she so pushy again? I really need to talk to her about that." Sunset realized her indecency, or at least what she thought to be indecent — the pure innocence lying partly beneath her had no idea what was going on.

"Oh, perhaps a bit too direct. Ehehe, sorry. I'll be a bit more... discrete. But remember: You can always talk to me when you got something on your mind."

"A-actually, I'm not—"

"Just not now," interfered Sunset once more. "I kinda... bucked up and now I need your help. You don't happen to have seen Twilight anywhere near, have you? Because it might be that I've... lost her."

Hhm?

"Lost me?" Twilight wondered. Was she spying on me? The girl would've very much liked to hear what Sunset was on about but couldn't bring herself to play along. After all, honesty was one of the virtues one should follow when aiming to establish... and maintain a healthy relationship|friendship.

Twilight once more tried to stop Sunset from rambling about things she didn't want to hear and desperately tried to ignore. "S-Sunset?"

Still something about falling asleep and mistaking her or something like that.

"Sunset." This time more urgent.

Nothing.

"Snap out of Sunset!" the girl shouted, louder than intended making her frantically shut her mouth.

Sunset finally looked up, meeting Twilight's gaze before freezing mid-sentence.

Oh.

"Oh, Celestia," the girl thought, "how could I mistake her for Fluttershy? I knew it was her, I knew it. If only it hadn't been for that damn cinnamon. Twilight hates cinnamon, so why'd she— Argh, stupid spice!"

The girl would've strangled herself right there if the embarrassment from earlier hadn't risen and crushed into her skull, carried by tons of water. Sunset sadly got no fracture —it would have certainly helped avoid the situation— but instead was only given blushes making even the reddest roses seem pale.

"H-hey Twilight," Sunset sounded like a nervous 5th-grader wanting to ask out her crush, but quickly pushed that pussy in a ditch and shielded herself with false-confidence, "so, ehm, how ya doin'?"

Twilight gave Sunset a stern look but couldn't help herself but lift her lips a little — a minor detail Sunset failed to catch.

The shield broke immediately.

"About that whole, you know... spying thing. I-I just wanted to make sure that you're safe and stuff. Not that you can't take care of yourself. I meant that—"

Twilight leaned forward embracing Sunset. A shiver of warm, vivid joy shot throughout Sunset's insides letting massive chunks of anxiety and uneasiness melt into sticky, viscous euphoria.

"I missed you too Sunset," the girl whispered. Had she just winked at her?
No, she hadn’t. The only winking happening was buried deep beneath Sunset's shorts.

The two girls sat, legs spread apart but torsos tightly rubbing against each other, on the ground — deeply entwined and damp from the stifling odor of cinnamon.

The physical affection Sunset experienced in that moment was nothing short of heavenly.
Her delicate hands felt every inch of Twilight's back: The tiny spinous processes, her scapula, and sadly, every wound. They were engraved into the girls back paining her... and Sunset — a map of cuts and scars lay itself over the beautiful image of Twilight's body, tainting it in blood. Blood threatening to suffocate Sunset if she didn't wake from the trance of bliss and glee she had cocooned herself in.

Sunset realized that she still hadn't found her shoe and extended her foot.

Twilight apparently noticed Sunset's increase in leg activity: "Should we get up?"

"Yeah, I guess we'll get too wet otherwise." Thankfully, Twilight didn't understand sexual euphemisms (even if unintended). "But let me get my shoe real quick. It should be somewhere..." the girl abandoned her sentence and stretched her lower body.

There it was! Sunset's sole found a piece of tender viscose, or at least that was what she believed the material to be. It seemed to deviate from what her feet were normally used to being garmented in, but it was close enough — probably just the snow that made it feel different.

Sunset got to the edge of the fabric and felt something else. But she couldn't quite put her toe on it. At least, until Twilight involuntarily assisted her in identifying the material: "S-Sunset. I really don't think that your shoe is somewhere around there. And I would be really glad if you could st-stop," she sounded breathy.

Skin,

Oh no.

Sunset looked up from her lap and died of embarrassment — or at least wished to do so. If only she'd be able to form a noose with her hair and hang herself.

The epiphany had hit her too late — way too late. Yet, still not to the degree she deserved — it should've blown her brains out.

Sunset was staring at Twilight's fully exposed underwear. And her foot was almost beneath it.
Despite the situation, Sunset couldn't resist but scrutinize the lingerie:
A white pair of Hipsters with the cutie mark of her counterpart embedded in the front. Simple but effective; a clothing-habit Twilight had developed over the years to save time for her studies. That's why the absence of a school uniform at Canterlot High was still something she had to adjust to.

Sunset pulled her heel away and was about to apologize when Twilight herself jumped in and helped her. Kinda...?

"Look Sunset." The girl sounded exhausted. "I don't want to know what happened yesterday night..." A long pause put unintended empathize on the second part of the sentence making it seem somewhat snooty, "or this morning by the way it looks."

"Ouch," thought the former horse surprised by her friend's harshness. She was desperately waiting for her friend to say: "Er, no offense." to find herself on top of the situation but was brutally disappointed when Twilight simply continued talking.

"I want to talk about this as little as you, trust me. I could pretend that everything is alright. Just like you have been." Twilight was staring deeply into Sunset's eyes.
It was apparent to Sunset that she wasn't facing an angry Twilight. Instead, there was something in the girl's eyes which, normally, was exclusively reserved for her in their relationship. Concern.

"And I've partly done that. Making me just as, if not more, responsible."

"What was she one about?" echoed through Sunset's brain. If only she could read minds and page the girl's thoughts.

"Sunset..." A long sigh one would usually find at the start of a YouTuber's apologie broke the sentence weighing heavily on Twilight and wanting to escape. Letting it do so in smaller parts was the easiest for her but made it oh so much harder for Sunset to process the halting flow of information.

"We really need to talk about your drinking problem."

Sunset's face was blank of emotion. A pale orange mask was hiding entrance to a circus.
The girl would've broken out into laughter if it hadn't been for the dire situation and the obvious concern of her friend. She decided to play along — for Twilight's sake.

"My what now?" retorted Sunset decked with a hint of artificial outrage.

"Have you heard the term 'alcohol flush reaction' before, Sunset?" The window of time Twilight gave Sunset was too short to be noticeable, let alone, for an answer to climb through. It appeared to simply be a normal pause in the girl's flow of speech. "It basically describes the inability of a person to correctly digest alcohol, or rather, acetaldehyde. The reaction is usually caused due to a faulty enzyme; the aldehyde dehydrogenase 2 gene. That, on its own, is nothing one has to worry about. However..."

Sunset stopped listening and plunged into sea. She knew Twilight would soon —after she had finished her monologue— get to the point and give her an absurd (yet somehow plausible) explanation for her misbelief.

So why not dive into your memories and try to find out yourself? The water was comfortably vibrating on beat with Twilight's damped voice. Sunset swam further downwards. When hitting seafloor the girl stirred up some silt, hoping to discover something that could help her.
Sunset was about to revisit some of the moments she had spent time alone with Twilight (her favorite memories), but was harshly yanked out of the water and flew headfirst onto the shore. It was rocky and Sunset couldn't be bothered with also coming up with what kind of stone it consisted of. It was white.

There she was. Stranded on an island she herself had created. Helpless and fully exposed to Twilights' unfiltered voice. The roaringly loud noise made the water retract and, with that, brought ebb. All thoughts were gone leaving her no choice but to focus on the moment.
She prematurely got back from her vacation just in time to witness Twilight's conclusion.

"...one of many symptoms are erythema. Most commonly in the neck, upper body and... face. Especially the cheeks of a person with ALDH2" — using the abbreviation sounded weird — "deficiency will become red, or rather flushed."

Sunset was still oblivious as to where Twilight was heading.

"She can't be that stupid?!"

"And you, Sunset, have not had a non-flushed (the usage of a double negative seemed uncharacteristic for Twilight) face in the last four months or so. Perhaps even longer. There are of course other possibilities as to why that is the case but tachycardia, your increased heart rate, supports my thesis."

Had she been blushing around Twilight?

"Don't get us started on that shit again."

"Giver her a minute. She'll figure it out."

"Other causes may be diseases you are unlikely to, and hopefully don't have. Face blushing also seems strange hence I see no reason for you to be nervous or something of that sort, which would explain a release of adrenalin."

Or had she really been drinking too much?

"No, you haven't ."

N-No, she hadn't. She... she... she...

"And by the way you are looking at me," interjected Twilight stopping the forced epiphany, "I can tell that you are clearly in no position to talk right now."
Twilight stepped forward, pulled out a silken handkerchief and carefully wiped away some of the slobber around Sunset's mouth. Apparently, her ocean of thoughts had been leaking.

The way back to Sunset’s apartment was toilsome... and adorable.

"Let's get you home and into your bed. What do you think about that? You look like you could need some sleep." She sounded like a social worker talking to a troubled child that had just thrown a fit — calm and assuring. "And later we'll talk about everything. No pressure. Just you and me."

Sunset only nodded. She was far too gone for her to respond.

Twilight smiled brightly: "Great. Then let's get going." She helped the girl stand up, made sure no belongings were left behind and tightly held Sunset's hand. She made sure it wouldn't stay lonely. Not for a single second.

With quick pace —but not too pushy— Twilight led the girl towards her apartment. Sunset, as if being on autopilot, silently walked next to her. It made the purple girl periodically look back to make sure her friend didn't get lost on the way home.

After having clumsily entered the apartment, Twilight carefully, and without any intent besides aiding, helped Sunset undress (not that there was much clothing on her in the first place).

Baconhair was laid sidewards onto her bed and soon fell asleep. Twilight very much needed to do so too, but didn't care. She got a chair, placed it next to the sleeping girl, and sat down. One hand guarding that of her friend, the other holding a book under the dimmed light barely reaching from a lamp across the room.

"Everything is going to be fine, Sunset...

...I promise."

Author's Note

See ya soon,
Shim <3