Small, Insignificant Things
The knocking woke me up in the middle of the night. It crashed across the sleepy rainfall like thunder. But the thunder had died out hours ago, and the banging continued. I considered staying in, keeping the blankets over my head and not moving. Like the thunder, eventually she’d go away.
I got up. I stepped softly, keeping my footsteps light, like I always did. Force of habit, needless when you live basically alone. It wasn’t like Angel would ask me to keep it down. At the door, I took a deep breath, swept the hair out of my eyes.
She was drenched, shivering, hugging herself and dripping onto the welcome mat. Her hair was a wet mess, like tangled red yarn. She stared at me, silently, and I, equally silent, let her inside.
Questions and questions. I hadn’t seen her in days, I’d stopped counting how many, and this is how she shows up. I bite my tongue. I push her towards the couch, pull the dripping jacket off her back. I toss it into the laundry, for later, and hunt up a towel, some blankets. I dump them into her arms in a pile, then move to the kitchen, questions still chasing. I bite my lip.
Where has she been, what was she doing? Was she with her, again? I fight myself, bite harder. She needs space. I know she needs space. I know.
I find a packet of coffee, lost in the back of a cupboard. The coffee maker gurgles uncertaintly, seeming surprised to be of use again. While it does, instant cocoa and milk go into the microwave. Both mugs are identical. By the time I’m walking back to her, I’ve forgotten which is which.
She’s still sitting exactly where I left her, staring at the carpet. I put the probably coffee in front of her, then bury myself in the easy chair across the table from her. I take a sip of my own, wince, and roll my tongue around my mouth, feeling the numbed edges. I keep drinking, just for something to do. I barely taste it, and it's gone, weighing my stomach down. I fiddle with the empty cup.
Silence. Worries, ones I normally held in, start to fill in the gaps. They build on each other. She shivers. I hesitate, put my cup down, adjust it slowly. Then I approach, carefully. I take the unused towel out of her hands, drape it over her head. She doesn’t respond. I dry her hair, delicately, dragging the water out of each strand, patting them out. I don’t think or ask or wonder. I help.
I pull the towel away, and look at her, trying to see if she’s sick, or hurt. She looks awful.. She’s pale, eyes like dark smudges and running with makeup. Gently, I dry her face with the corner of the towel, try to mop up the black lines and pools.Without thinking about it, I let my fingertips brush her face.
Her hand catches my wrist, and I freeze. My heart pounds, loud, loud. We say nothing. My face is prickling and burning, I want to hide, run away, shout. I tell myself I’m safe. I start deep breathing, something I’ve been practicing. By the time I exhale, she lets go. I step back, quickly, and stare at her. She stares back, then drops her eyes back to the floor. I deep breathe, again. After several minutes I relax. I frown, and watch her hair drip onto her shoulders.
“So.” It’s soft, very soft, but tears at the silence, making me flinch with the violence of it. “I messed up. Again. I’m sorry.” Tears roll past her fingertips as she tries to brush them away.
Something wells up in me, but I ignore it. Something bites, nips at my heart, at the back of my head, prickles the outside of my skull. There’s pressure building there, but I ignore it.
I nod, smile slightly. “Sure. Of course.” I don’t know what to say. “How are you?”
She shrugs, smiles, closes her eyes. “Right as rain, I guess.” My hand finds her cheek, wetting my fingertips, and this time she turns into it. I bring the towel to her head again, scrub gently. My eyes trail down her neck, trace her collarbone. Her clothes cling to her body. I frown again.
“Take off your clothes.”
She jerks, her eyes catching mine. Surprise and then, for a second, a heat that burns me to my core. I look away, and I can feel the red burning across my face, feel my heart skip faster a few steps. I cough, clear my throat. “You’re wet. You’ll get sick.”
I feel her shuffle, grunt. I hold out my hands, still not looking, and soon her clothes are in a soaked bundle, one I carry quickly to the laundry. I throw everything into the dryer with my own forgotten load. While the dryer hummed, I picked her jacket from the floor and hung it up, hoping the rain wouldn’t damage it. I shiver a bit, reminded suddenly of how cold my house is at night. I curl my toes, and dance back to my bedroom. My bed tempts me, in passing, but I leave it behind, pajamas in hand.
When I get back, she’s sipping the coffee I left her. She even smiles, weakly, not quite looking at me, and puts the pajamas on herself. She shivers less. I sit down again, this time next to her. Questions and questions. I’ve run out of things to bite; I dig my nails into my palms instead.
“Shy?”
I glance at her, tilt my head slightly.
Her hands close around her mug, knuckles going a shade whiter. “Thanks for letting me in. I don’t really know what I might’ve done…” She shrugs. “Thank you.”
The question nips at the end of my tongue, threatens to pour out its bitterness. I don’t have to say anything. But her eyes are still sparkling. I shift closer, put my hand on her leg. I try to say it: that I don’t care where she was, or who she was with. That I don’t care about anything except for her being here. But I don’t know if that’s the truth. Sometimes, I can’t divide kindness from cruelty.
But she’s looking at me, and I’ve been silent for too long. The look in her eyes is familiar. I want to hold back, pull away. Instead I lean closer, and part of me falls away.
My hand finds her cheek, wetting my fingertips and chasing warmth. Her cheeks, her hair, her throat. I start to shiver.
Then her lips are burned in mine. And I drown, again and again. Smelling of salt and wet hair, weighed down by elbows and heat and teeth. My heart echoing in my head, louder and louder.
***
Two hands slam into the locker, one on each side of my head. I squeak, surprise overriding my self control. I shrink backward, trying to burrow into cold metal. I still feel her, burying me in heat, dominating my space. I feel sick, and dizzy.
“Sup Shy?” Sunset Shimmer grins violently, an ugly, twisted thing, a toothy slash across her face. I hide behind my hair, but I can still see it. Even with my eyes closed, I see it. She slams again, one hand this time, and again I cry out, softer. I feel myself go rigid, twisting in on myself. She always drags these things out, paralyzing me bit by bit.
“Little birds have been chirping. Figured you might be interested in what they have to say. Considering your, animal thing.” She poked at the backpack I shielded in my arms, and I crumpled to the ground, twisting away. She folded her arms, starting down at me, still smirking. “One particularly ‘awesome’ bird told me you’ve been hanging around the soccer fields. Wanted me to pass on a message.” She leans in, slashing her teeth at me, clenching one fist so the knuckles crack. “Stay away, I think she said. No one awesome wants to hang out with someone who’s useless. Door mats should know their place, don’t you think Shy? Hm?” Her fingers twisted around my hair, and dragged it out of my face, forcing me to look.
I fall away. Sometimes it’s safer to just… go inside. Even when you’re stuck outside.
With her, it wasn’t always easy to escape, not when she didn’t want you to.
She let go, and I curled up. “Anyway,” she flipped her hair. “Just passing things through, hope you understand. Don’t, how does it go? ‘Shoot the messenger,’ right?” She laughed. “See ya around.” The slamming of her boots faded with her laughter. Parts of that laugh lingered, lodged somewhere in my ears. I let my animals out, widening my arms around them. I held them, laying on the floor, until the bell rang. And after.
***
I didn’t expect to wake up cold. Somehow, even after all these years, I never do. I sit up, wince. Pain scampers up and down my body, around my neck and shoulders. I stretch, feel something pop, and hiss as I pull a muscle too quickly. I freeze, letting my hair fall into my face as I wait for the pain to twist into me. I decide to never sleep on the couch again.
I stand, and shiver. I remember I’m naked, and cover up, instinctively. I tuck my hair behind my ear. I call for her. I know she’s gone. But I call anyway. The clock eats the day away, ticking loudly, and I hear Angel thumping from the other room.
The dryer hangs open, and I pull out the rest of my clothes, folding them carefully. The dryer is fairly loud when it finishes. I’m surprised it didn’t wake me up. I must have been tired. I yawn widely, and realize that I still am.
Angel thumps more loudly. “I’m coming sweetie, I promise.” Gathering the folded clothes in my arms, I drop them onto my bed. Delaying for just a moment more, I open the nightstand drawer. Spare treats, a bottle of ibuprofen, some loose keys, I push them aside. Pushed to the back, I find a tiny black plastic box. Inside that, I know, is a tiny ring of iron. I stopped wearing it everyday, it’s too heavy, and it doesn’t mean anything. But today, I put it on again.
The sound of a rattling cage pierces my thoughts. I slide the drawer shut. “Sorry Angel. I’m here.”
***
Communication has always been a weakness of mine. I don’t say what I feel, or I don’t say what I mean, or how I mean it. I can’t catch attention, I can’t look into someone’s eyes and hold them with me. I’m not sure if it’s possible for me to fully connect to someone else. There’s always some barrier, insurmountable.
Sunset was different. Even during her worst moments, even when I feared her the most, she was direct, bold. Your attention was her attention, and she could guide it wherever and however she wanted. And when she decided she wanted me, there was little I could do to escape, even if I’d wanted to. She made me feel like I was worth something.
I stood by my locker, and I heard the heavy steps behind me. My heart raced automatically, and I tensed up. I knew it was coming, and still jumped.
“Hey Shy!”
I turned and trying to relax, smiled, dropping my hair in front of me. She waltzed up, leaned up against the lockers, grinned at me. She brushed her fingers through my bangs, pushing them aside. I shivered, and her hand jumped away. Her eyes widened.
“Shit I’m sorry, Shy. You okay?” She started to pull back.
I reached out, dug my nails into her arm. We both tensed, I don’t quite look at her. “Did you need something?” It’s not what I wanted to say. I let go of her, and we stand apart.
She rubs the back of her neck. “Yeah, I guess. Wondered how you did on that Chem exam. It really threw me.”
“Oh. It did? I didn’t think it was that difficult.” I squint at the ground. “But, if you thought it was hard, then maybe I just missed something?” Now I’m nervous again.
“Yeah, or, maybe you’re just better at chemistry than I am.” She punched my arm, very softly. “Give yourself some credit girl.”
I smiled again, was able to meet her eyes. It was like a blast of heat to the face. Heat that spread rapidly. “Okay. Okay. Yeah, you’re right.” I take a deep breath, exhale. I take a step closer to her, and push my hand into hers, clumsily. Her thumb makes circles up my wrist, and I wriggle, excited, nervous, warm. “Uhm.” I step closer, trying to squeeze into her warmth without getting too close. “Which question did you have trouble with specifically?”
“Well, I always have a bit of trouble with the oxidation formulas...”
I watched her eyes, and she watched mine. We connected.
***
I’m playing with Angel when the doorbell rings. Twice, rapidly. Then twice again. Then the door swings open. I rub Angel’s ears once more, then he hops away, searching for a less noisy part of the house. Rainbow Dash stands in the doorway. She doesn’t look happy. Still, she sweeps me into a hug, which I return, fiercely. We pull apart, and I notice she’s dressed up. An evening gown, stopping above her knees, black slashed through with blue and green. A bit too dressed up just to visit me. But looking again, I see the wrinkles, the worn in look. Like she slept in it.
I frowned. “Good to see you. But, what are you doing here?”
She scratched her nose. “Visiting?” She ventured.
I crossed my arms, and deepened my frown.
She chuckled. It had a hollow sound. “Fine. I’m visiting and.” She waved her hand vaguely, squinting around my house.
“And what? And what?”
She clenched her jaw, forced another laugh. “And, I think you know why I’m here.”
“Search the place if you want. She isn’t here.”
“But she was here.”
I stamped my foot. It was childish. “Who cares? You haven’t spoken in forever. Why the sudden interest?” My heart beat faster. Because I knew why. Because she was nothing if not predictable.
Dash sighed, rubbed a hand over her eyes. She looked tired. Extremely tired. “Actually, we spoke just last night. It went about as well as you’d imagine.” She leaned against the wall, then slid down it, sitting on the floor. “Rarity is pissed. Really pissed.”
***
Sunset decided to wrap her arm around me. Right here, in the cafeteria, in front of everybody. I blush and squirm, and try to push her away. But not very hard.
“Stop, she’ll see us.”
Sunset shrugged. I wriggled, but didn’t put up much of a fight. Parts of me wanted to be seen, and being with Sunset made it easier to indulge those parts.
I heard the scraping of chairs, muttering. There was Rainbow Dash, of course, arms crossed, foot tapping angrily. Beside her, unexpectedly, was Pinkie Pie. I could see Twilight and Applejack back at their table, backs to us, talking to Rarity.
“Not cool guys.” Dash shook her head. “You really need to cut it out.”
“Cut what out? I’m just trying to eat.” Sunset’s voice was cold, but it had some sneering edge to it.
“I really really reeaally don’t want to be mean about this, but Dashie is right. You shouldn’t be doing this here.” Pinkie clasped her hands behind her back, a small smile on her face. “You aren’t being very nice.”
A tiny part of me, a guilty part, a part that remembered kindness, prodded me. The greater part of me warmed in Sunset’s arms, and said nothing.
“We aren’t being mean. Girls, come on. What are we supposed to do? Hide?”
“I don’t know what you should do, just do it away from us!”
“Us?” Sunset stood up, and I slipped out of her hands. “So, what, are we exiled or something?”
Pinkie stepped between the two, trying to stop whatever was starting. “Please, stop. What Dashie means, is that things are fresh for Rarity right now. Try and-”
Dash pushed her aside, got into Sunset’s face. “Fresh, yeah. You two were together for what, all of two weeks before you dropped her?” Closer to three months. “What a true friend you turned out to be.”
“Fuck you. You don’t know anything so why don’t you shove off?”
“Girls-”
“How long before you drop Fluttershy too?” Sunset’s arm reaches, not finding me. Dash notices, sneers. She talks past Sunset, directly to me. “You know you can’t trust her, right?”
“She can make her own choices.” I surged at that, the trust Sunset had in me, the acknowledgement of my independence.
“I know she can. I also know you. You can twist words and be, be all you about everything.”
“So I’m a monster and she’s the dumb damsel, waiting to be eaten?”
“That’s not what I said! Fluttershy, just, you can be, you know. You can be quiet about things.”
“Stop.” I was done with this, being talked over and around. I felt, suddenly, very tired. The stress that had been building in me didn’t go away so much as I became distant to it. It lost its weight.
“I’m not a prisoner.”
Dash steps closer. “Huh?”
“I said, I’m not a prisoner!” My voice changes pitch, annoyingly. I frown. “You can stop.”
“Come on! I just want to help.”
“Then help someone who needs you. Because I don’t.” I don’t bother to look, to see the hurt on her face. I can feel it, even as I march to the exit.
***
“She showed up out of nowhere, like a ghost. Just popped in right in the middle of things. Still acting like she owned the place. Like she owned even me and Rarity. You know what the first thing she said was? The very first words she said to us in years? ‘You’re welcome.’”
I felt like laughing. Yeah, that sounded right. The laughter drowned in me when I saw the look on Dash’s face. The anger.
“‘You’re welcome.’ Like it was her that got us married, kept us together. Like it was her that had to piece Rarity back together after everything she’d done. ‘You’re welcome.’ Rarity just about gouged her eyes out. I almost let her.”
Anger flashed up. I ignored it. “Then what?”
“Then she knocked over a table, stole a bottle of wine, and crashed her way out the way she’d come in. Screaming and cursing. I stayed with Rarity, so I don’t know where she went after that.” Dash stared me down. I looked at my hands. “You know what that did to her, right? To Rarity? Our anniversary party, us celebrating us. And Sunset Shimmer comes to put a bow on it.” She snorts, puts her hands over her face. She peeks between her fingers. “You didn’t come. I invited you.”
I shook my head. “I couldn’t. I can’t.”
“Rarity wanted to see you. Wants to see you. She, dammit. She misses you.”
I miss her too. I miss everybody. I shrug helplessly. Silence falls.
“I’m sure she…” I hesitate. “I’m sure she didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Dash’s eyes flash as she slams her hands on the ground. “Then what did she want? What the hell did she want?” She shakes her head. “All she ever thinks about is herself. It doesn’t matter if she wanted to hurt us. She did, and that’s that.”
She’s shouting at me, I feel myself clenching up, shutting down.
“She’s using you, like she used everyone else. How often do you even see her anymore? Do you even know where she is, where she goes? Who she is? How can you still defend her? How can you even stand being around her?”
My hair falls into my face, and I wind, and wind and wind.
And explode. I scream, wordlessly. Dash falls back, surprised. My face is rigid, my teeth are clenched. “Shut up and get out.”
“Shy, wait.”
“Shut up!” I put my hands on her shoulders and push. She stumbles, catches herself. “Get out!” I push her to the door, push and push, until she’s out. “Shut up!”
***
The banging on the door intensifies, gets louder. “Let me in Fluttershy. Let me in.”
“No.”
“Shy!” Her boot cracks the frame. She curses. Silence.
“Where were you?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Where were you?”
Silence.
“I know you were with her.”
“Shy, it’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like?”
“It’s like it’s complicated, okay? Very fucking complicated. Open the door!” Her fist this time.
“No.” I lean my forehead against the doorway. I can hear her out there, faintly. “What am I to you?” I don’t think she hears me.
“Shy listen to me. Shy? Are you listening?”
“I’m here.”
“You’re right, I was with her. And I’m sorry, and I know I screwed up. But I need you, okay? I need you, just you, right now. So please, please let me in.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “No.”
“Shy-”
I slap my own hands against the wood, stinging my palms. I don’t shout, but I want to.
My house is pretty rural, far from the city. Closer to Applejack and her farm than any civilization. We could make as much noise as we wanted, no one there to stop us, shut us up.
Sunset used to sit outside my house for hours and hours, begging me to let her in.
Jealousy is a nasty thing. It eats you up inside, eats away at your choices and decisions until the only ones remaining are poison. It’s like a weight that you drag with you everywhere, until eventually you just get used to it. And you forget to watch out. Forget to ignore what it says to you. Forget to let go.
***
I’m curled up on the couch again. I feel dizzy, disoriented, and tired. Extremely tired. I fell asleep again, just for a moment. But I can’t sleep anymore, now that I’m awake, thinking, carrying the weight of my thoughts in my chest. It's hard to breathe, suddenly. I sit up, scared that I'm about to die. I breathe, but I can’t feel my lungs anymore.
I stand up, start pacing, trying to ignore my panic. The house is dark. It's getting late. The whole day, laying on my couch, or standing around, doing nothing. I can’t stay still, and I can’t stay here. So I leave.
Determination overrides my fear. I’m sick of waiting for her to come to me. I’m going to find her. There are only a few places she could be. I’ll check them all. But I think I know where she’ll be, where we went when we didn’t want to be found.
***
“They’re just so frustrating sometimes.”
“Yeah, they really are.”
“They treat me like I’m a, a doll, like I can’t do anything without someone holding me.”
“They are trying to look out for you.”
“But I don’t need them to. I love them, but sometimes I need them to stay away.”
“Well, they’re away now. We’ll make it work.”
“Yeah. I just… I wish it was easy.”
“Nothing ever is.”
“I know.”
“Shy…”
“Uh huh?”
“Did we, did I, did… was this a mistake?”
“What are you saying?”
“Just, what Rainbow said… Did I? Did I force you?”
“No.”
“But the party, I mean, I-”
“No. We both made our choices.”
“...”
“You don’t always have to be the bad guy.”
“I am the bad guy.”
“Sunset…”
“I am.”
“...”
“...”
“I’ve got you, you’re okay. Just breathe, breathe. It’s okay to cry. Breathe. Breathe.”
***
Her apartment is as messy as ever. I step carefully over clothes, books, even buried houseplants. I call for her. She doesn’t respond, and I didn’t expect her to. But I call anyway.
Thinking back, I never really came here as often as I could have. For being in a relationship, we didn’t seem to bring it home very often. We met mostly outside, neutral ground. But when I did come over, it was always a mess. She’d always apologize, “Sorry, I need to clean up, I know.” I’d laugh and tell her it was okay. I’m not really bothered by messes. Not at all actually. Sunset reminded me of some nesting bird, some falcon or raven, dragging all the bits and pieces of the world into her home, building up the walls. We mostly just ended up in the bedroom anyway.
I pass the narrow strip of tile that makes up her kitchen, glance at the sink. A pile of dishes, probably days old, greet me. I wrinkle my nose at the smell. There are rubber gloves and soap under the sink. I take my time, going over each dish with care, wasting the minutes away. Too quickly, they’re piled on the counter, drying.
I pass “The Library” next. Two full bookshelves, one sagging in the middle, and several freestanding book towers are pressed into a corner, overshadowing a dying plant. Sunset was most protective of this area. Every book she owned was dear to her; she was selective about what she kept and what she didn’t. She used to find it amusing to compare her collection to Twilight’s. There were one or two books here that couldn’t be found anywhere else. I run a finger across their spines, leaving a horizontal line through the dust.
I pause in front of the bedroom. I’m tense and jittery, even though there’s no reason to be. I feel like she’s in there, waiting for me. Waiting to jump out, to scare me. To laugh and hold me, tell me it’s alright. To pull me into bed. I push the door with my foot.
The first thing I see is the window, nothing but darkness outside. I flick on the lights, the corner lamp muffled by misplaced clothing and more piles of books. Sunset isn’t there.
The bed sits right in the middle of the back wall, unmade, also covered in clothes. But as I got closer, I realized these were more organized. A series of rejected outfits, carefully laid out. Her indecision made sense, knowing what she was dressing up for. Who she was dressing up for. The outfits landed on the ground with the rest, the coordinated matches lost in the scramble of cloth.
I sat on the bed, drew my knees up and hugged them to me. The room is silent, and answers none of my questions.
***
“Sports? I mean… Rainbow makes soccer look pretty okay, I guess. It’s all pretty strange to me.”
“I guess it would be.”
“...”
“I’m trying to imagine a bunch of little ponies chasing a ball around.”
“Stop laughing! Stop it, jeez.”
“Acting tough, getting up in the little pony referee's face.”
“Hey, ponies can be tough. Stop laughing, we can.”
“I believe you. Very tough. And very cute.”
“Someone can be both tough and cute.”
“Don’t pout. You’re tough. Tougher than me.”
“Stop laughing!”
“I’m not laughing. You’re cute too.”
“Prove it?”
“Gladly.”
“Mm.”
“Mm.”
“Shy?”
“Yes?”
“Nothing."
“...”
“Hey.”
“Hm?”
“What kind of bird is that?”
“Um. It’s kind of hard to tell from here. A thrush? I think?”
“I thought you were the animal expert?”
“I haven’t memorized every animal that’s ever lived. Just because I love them all doesn’t mean I know them all.”
“Huh.”
“What?”
“It’s staring at me.”
“You’re staring at him too.”
“I don’t know about birds. They weird me out. Why’s it walking around?”
“Maybe he has a nest nearby. Don’t be mean.”
“I’m not. I’m incapable of being mean.”
"Mhm."
"Birds mate for life, right?"
"Some. Most stay together to raise the nest, then split after that."
"Hm. Not very romantic of them."
"Birds are very practical. Survival before love. Sometimes, when everything is said and done, it's safer just to fly away."
"..."
"..."
"It would be nice to have wings."
"Yeah, it would."
***
Everything looks different in the dark. Even familiar streets become frightening. It's hard to define, the difference between a dark place and a light one. It's not the unknown, I know what's there. It's not the constant sense of anxiety, panic; that's familiar to me too. For me its… a feeling, a horrible feeling, that things have changed without me knowing. That even though I know a place so well I could walk it with my eyes closed, I'll open my eyes and be somewhere I shouldn't. The road twisted, the street signs changed, the houses gone. I'll be lost, in the dark, in a place I don't know anymore.
There's a crash from up the street. I clasp my hands to my chest, debate turning back. But the distance behind me is just as long and dark as whatever's ahead. Something sprints at me, I open my mouth to scream, but I stop. And it stops. And it tilts its head at me.
It's a raccoon. I sink to my knees, and I laugh. I reach into my pocket, find the little bits of rabbit food I always keep there. I hold out my hand, let the raccoon approach.
“Here you go. Sorry if I scared you.” He sniffed at my hand, cautiously, then dug in, ignoring me in favor of the food. I scratched his ears. “I’ve never pet a raccoon before. You’re usually too afraid of me.” And I’m usually too afraid of the dark.
The raccoon ate up the last of my snacks, then sat back, tilting his head at me. “Sorry. I don’t have any more.” He stared at me for another second, then scampered off. I sighed. “See you later.”
***
Initially, I wasn’t planning on going to Flitter’s party. Usually I won’t go to a house party unless Pinkie is throwing it, and when Pinkie throws a party, its at Pinkie’s house. But Rarity insisted.
As usual, I lost sight of her and everyone else I knew within 5 minutes. I wound up in a guest room, sitting on the bed, humming to myself. Eventually things would calm down, and I could rejoin my friends. Time passed. The door banged open, and I jumped to my feet, apology scrambling to my lips.
But it wasn’t Flitter there to yell at me, or worse, a complete stranger. It was Sunset. Barely on her feet, wiping at her eyes. The door slams shut. She notices me a few steps in, and jumps. I swallow, smile nervously.
“Oh, Shy. It’s you.” Sunset sniffs loudly, and wipes her eyes more ferociously. She coughs. “What’s up?”
I clear my throat. “Just, um, taking a break.” I tug at my hair. “Keep me company?”
Sunset pauses, then laughs shortly. “Sure. Why not?” She sits on the bed next to me, and we sit in silence, broken only by Sunset’s sniffles and muffled tears. I’m not sure what to do. I want to comfort her, but, sometimes people need to be left alone. Dash and Sunset were very similar in that regard.
While I worried, Sunset spoke first. “So you hiding up here, or what?”
“I don’t really like crowds. I prefer to wait until things calm down. Um, so I find quiet places, and wait.”
“Lonely?” Sunset’s voice quavered a bit.
I shook my head. “I like being a part, listening to the noise, like it's far away. I wish that everywhere there was a quiet place, where I could slip away and just, be on my own. Um.” I fall silent. When I talk too much, it’s usually best to just stop wherever I am, before I make it worse.
“I get that.”
“You do?”
“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Wanting to get away, recharge, I get that. I’ve always been a bit of a lone wolf. The friends thing can be… overwhelming. It’s easier alone. Especially if you have someone to be alone with.” Without warning, she pushed her head into my shoulder.
It became warm, and wet, rapidly. I feel myself go stiff, not sure what to do with myself. I didn’t want to move at all, in case I shifted her, didn’t want to breathe too much in case it made her uncomfortable. I breathed shallowly. Then, slowly, I put an arm to her back, rubbing slow, soothing circles.
She snuggled into me, and I was too stiff to readjust. I fell backwards onto the bed, and found myself pinned beneath her, unable to scramble free. It wasn’t unpleasant.
“So. What happened?” I talk, just to fill the space.
“Nothing, really. Just, fought with Rarity.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“Are you girls… okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah of course. These things happen right? We always bounce back. Tomorrow we’ll make up and... It’ll be fine.”
“Tomorrow is a long way off.”
“What?”
“I mean, I’m not trying to say anything I just...”
“It’s cool Shy. You can say whatever. I’m good.”
“It’s not fair for you to have to spend the night upset. Waiting for tomorrow.”
She didn’t answer, but pressed her face more firmly to my shoulder. Nervousness bloomed like infection, coming from all directions. Somehow, her hand met mine, our fingers twisting together.
She started to move, and her other hand found the belly of my shirt. Then slipped beneath it. I gasped, and felt a spike of fear in my chest, and of something else below. I wriggled again, but she placed herself more firmly above me. A battle began, between fear, and excitement. Both pounded my heart equally fast.
Things became confusing. Hands and touches, violent sparks both uncomfortable and pleasurable. I didn’t like it, but I found I didn’t dislike it either. I was rising above myself, connected but distant. I watched, dispassionately, as my body responded more and more heatedly.
I wasn’t moving. Teeth, lips, nails, hands, a confusion of motion. My eyes were closed, but still I saw what was happening, a birds eye view. I don’t know how long before she stopped, moved away. How long before I settled back into my own body, saw with my own eyes.
She sat on the end of the bed, staring at the wall. Music pulsed behind it. I sat up. Our clothes were still on. I shivered, uncontrollably. My jaw hurts. The shivering built, rocked, went away, waves and waves, like I was naked in a blizzard. I felt strange, everything concentrated in the bottom of my belly.
I crawled to her, shaking, and wrapped my arms around her waist, rested my head on her shoulder. I shook, and shook. And she did too. She spun around, wrapped her arms around me. We embraced.
“I’m sorry.”
We pulled apart. The world was bleary. My hand shivered as I dragged away the tears that I didn’t remember crying. She stared at me with shining eyes. We kissed. Echoes of pain shuddered through me, I felt the shaking in my bones. She pushed. I pushed back.
***
The outskirts of the Everfree are barely thinner than the depths. The forest is dense, unpredictably vast and wild. The only hope you have are the paths, the well worn, maintained ones that everyone knows. But there were smaller paths too, ones you had to find and forge for yourself. Down one of them, I know, is Sunset, in our spot in the woods. Hidden from the world, where no one could find us. Off the path, a wild tangle of unknown danger. I don’t hesitate. I’d been down this path, dozens of times. Even now, in the unfamiliar dark, I know how to find her.
We came here, again and again, to talk, to laugh, to feel safe. To just be together. Hiding from the world, hoarding time. Ahead was the break in the brush, easy to miss. I stepped out, and into the clearing, empty save for the tree at the top of the hill.
She was sitting, curled up in the tree hollow. I could just barely make out her profile, but she couldn’t have been anywhere else, even in pitch black. I glanced at the horizon, where the sky was starting to brighten. The sun wasn’t up yet.
I intentionally made more noise as I approached, and she turned. I couldn’t make out her expression.
“You found me.”
I stopped by the tree, leaning against it, digging my shoulder into the bark. “Yeah. I found you.” We both stared out at the horizon.
“I’m sorry.” I’m sick of hearing her apologize. Sometimes it feels like everything we are is just one long apology. “It was her anniversary yesterday.”
“I know.” I want to remind her of our own anniversary, of my birthday, of all the other days, of no consequence, that she hadn’t been around for. I sit beside her, let her wrap an arm around me. I snuggle into her.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Her voice is muffled, her lips vibrate my hair. I wonder if she’s really glad.
“Me too.” I want to ask.
We watch the stars wink out, slowly, under the weight of the light. The sun is rising, but taking its time. I’m starting to feel buried by the things I’m not saying.
I want to shout, to tell her to change, to tell her all the things I have to say. All the ways I’m suffocating, all the things I can’t remember liking anymore. I want her to apologize, to promise to do better, to be better. I want to fight, be fought.
What would I say to her, if I could?
***
Lately I’ve been thinking about everything I remember about you. The big moments, the good and the bad. The little moments. The tiny parts of you that stuck to me, parts you probably don’t even think about. I can see myself in pieces of you. I wonder if I’ll still exist, if I pull them all out.
Some injuries don’t go away, no matter how much time passes. You feel them, when its about to rain, when the cold starts to bite. Scars scatter across your heart, create places you learn to avoid. But they never go away.
I’m making it seem like things were bad. They weren’t. Like I said, I’m my own person. I wanted this, as much as you did. As much as I thought you did. But that didn’t stop the pain. A glance, a touch, and they flare up again, closer to the surface than I thought.
Small and insignificant things. Things that won’t let me forget.
The restaurant you chose that night was expensive, but not so much that it would bankrupt anyone. Just enough to take notice. You sat right across from me, and smiled. “How’s the food?”
“Delicious, really. It’s hard to find good vegetarian stuff around here.”
“It is pretty much the only place in town. Makes it kind of predictable, huh?”
I giggled. “Not at all.”
“So.” You seemed nervous, tucking your hair behind one ear.
“So?” I took another bite, watching you closely.
“Uh, I don’t know how to say this.”
That gets me worried. “That’s kind of not like you. Um, is something wrong?”
“No!” You blurted, unconvincingly. “No, not wrong just, uh.” You start to fidget.
“Okay. Can I help or...”
“Just hold on. I need a minute.” You stood up, abruptly, pacing towards the back of the restaurant.
“Okay…” Eating pushed out of my mind, I put my fork down, and waited.
When you came back, you were deep breathing, running through calming exercises. Then, you kneeled. “Hey, uh. I’ve never done this before. Fluttershy?”
I gulped, and now it was me deep breathing.
“Fluttershy, I know things haven’t always been perfect between us. I know that we fight, and we cry, and we make mistakes. But I love you. I want things to work, I want to be there for you, whenever you need me.” You brought out the ring, the iron ring in the black plastic box. “I want things to work, and I hope this will help. Shy, will you marry me?”
I looked into your eyes, and saw myself, chained to you by bands of impossibly thin iron. “Yes.” One word, in it happiness and fear entwined, until I couldn’t tell where the love ended and the pain began. Even back then, I couldn’t help but think it, that cruel thought.
Liar.
***
I woke up warm. The sun grazed my eyelids, causing me to roll and squeeze them shut. Morning birds sing from the trees, telling me to wake up. Wake up.
So I did. Sunset is still there, asleep. Curled up, deeper in the hollow, the sun hasn’t reached her face just yet. She’s beautiful. Every time I look at her, I’m reminded of it. The beauty and joy of her. It hurts.
Gently, I brush a bit of hair from her face. I kiss her temple, her cheek, careful not to wake her. I pull the ring, my ring, our ring, from my finger. I slip it into her jacket pocket, where she’s sure to find it. I consider, again, waking her. Talking, saying everything that I want to say.
I’ve never been good at communicating. I know that, have always known that. But I thought that, when it was important, when it really mattered, I’d be able to say it. Whatever it was, I’d say it without regret, without hesitation. I’d say it. I was wrong.
I leave her, sleeping in the hollow, letting her wake up alone and cold. She’ll reach into her pocket and learn just how alone, just how cold, she is. I wonder if she’ll come to me again, and I wonder what I’ll say.
This is the best I can do. I can’t communicate. I can’t tell the difference between kindness and cruelty. But I can let go of one small, insignificant thing.
***
“Sunset?”
“Mm?”
“Do you ever think about the future?”
“The future as in before, or after we make out?”
“I’m being serious.”
“Alright alright, no pushing.”
“...”
“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it much. Where I’ll be, where we’ll be. I don’t know.”
“But?”
“But, I know that right now, you’re in my arms. I know that I’m happy to sit here beside you, to let today go on forever. Tomorrow, anything could happen. But today, we’re here, and we’re together, and as far as I’m concerned, we always will be.”
“Hm.”
“Did that answer your question?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry. I guess I get too wrapped up in worrying about what’s going to happen next. It’s silly but, I just feel nervous, not knowing.”
“Whatever happens, I’ll walk you through it. I promised, remember?”
I roll the ring around my finger, watching it catch the last bits of sun dipping below the horizon. “Yeah, I remember.”
