Burning Passion was, ironically, rather chilly.
She could largely blame the cold winter weather. Winter Ramp Up was only a few weeks prior, and the snow and icy winds got under her lilac coat and in her short, pastel pink mane. It marked less sunlight, which itself made her days feel even shorter given how her work typically carried her into the evenings. It also meant more work for her, as more ponies sought her out for warmth and comfort. She couldn’t complain most of the time.
However, the current chill came from a different source, one inside of her. It brought with it a shortness of breath, a tingling in her hooves, and a desire to move and shake herself out every few seconds. She hated it, and what it might mean.
Before she spent too long pacing before the door in the dim evening light, Burning made herself stop and take a deep breath. She faced toward the door and knocked, while trying to tell herself she only needed to bare with the chill for a few more moments. Just a few.
But what if it wasn’t just a few moments?
Burning didn’t have time to let her mind wander down that question’s path, as the door opened up to a familiar mare of pink and blonde. For a moment, confusion spread across her face in a half-blank stare, but it was quickly erased with a bright and delightful grin.
She wasn’t inside yet, but Burning felt most of the cold in her melt away.
“Burning!” the mare exclaimed, as she threw her forelegs around Burning’s neck and shoulders. She put one leg over her marefriend in return. “I wasn’t expecting you over tonight, not that I’m not happy to see you. Is everything okay?” The mare in the doorway chuckled and the two parted, though she left one hoof on Burning’s foreleg.
“Everything’s fine, Millie,” Burning replied. “There was just a... pony.” Millie cocked her head, and she leaned forward, glancing down the street behind Burning. She chuckled and pushed Millie back indoors with a kiss to the nose. “I told you, it’s fine. I’m just being extra careful and using it as an excuse to come over. That is, if you’re okay with that.” Burning bashfully brushed a hoof over her left foreleg and smiled ruefully.
Millie looked at her nose and Burning’s lips with her emerald eyes crossed, then let them pop back forward a second later. “Of course it is!” She gestured Burning in, and gently removed her spotted scarf and hung it on a nearby hook beside another solid purple one. “I’ll go get us something warm to drink. Do you want anything to eat?”
“Have you got any of those marshmallows?” Burning asked.
Millie nodded and winked back. “Only if you’ve got some marshmallow for me.” Burning rolled her eyes as Millie giggled and vanished into a door deeper inside.
Some of the chill from before returned to Burning as she was left alone, though there was a lingering ember inside of her that pulled vaguely in Millie’s direction. She caught herself lifting a hoof to shake it, and instead forced herself to shut the front door behind her, walk to the sofa in the middle of the room and lay down across it. The sounds of a kettle placed on a stove and mugs on a countertop came from the door to the kitchen.
Millie’s living room always helped ease some of Burning’s tension and discomfort, though she supposed that the decor came with her profession. Bright, clean walls with inoffensive photographs and paintings hung on them, while opposite Burning’s sofa were two armchairs, and a long table set between all three seats. There were a few magazines on the table, mostly focusing on mental health, as well as a carefully ripped out page from a colouring book. It was largely uncoloured, save for some yellow and orange scribbling that was mostly, though not entirely, inside of a campfire. Burning pulled one of the magazines closer, and idly flicked through the pages as she waited.
A few minutes later, after some light reading of an article Burning only partly understood, Millie came back out with a tray held in one hoof, and a blanket over her back. Burning tried to sit up, pushing herself up on her forelegs, but Millie eased her back down with a kiss to her crown, and at the same time deftly put the tray on the table. On the tray were two mugs, one a soft yellow, and the other a pale pink, as well as a packet of marshmallows. The yellow mug was placed between Burning’s hooves, and the warm, bittersweet smell of the foamy, steaming drink filled her nostrils.
Burning shut her eyes and smiled as Mille joined her on the sofa, laying next to her with one foreleg over Burning’s shoulders. A soothing, electric feeling filled Burning’s flank and barrel, and it made the fur on her back and just behind her mane stand on end.
It wasn’t an unusual feeling. Burning had felt it so many times before from a myriad of ponies, but there was something about the specific buzz she felt from Millie that she was never entirely sure how to define.
She supposed it was the fact Millie didn’t expect anything of her. If she were to just lay there for hours doing nothing more than exist in contact with her marefriend, she too would be happy with it.
Burning sighed and sipped at her drink. A question was floating up in her mind, but the silky smooth love that coated her tongue and throat pressed it back down for at least a little longer.
“What sort of pony are they?” Millie asked. Her voice was always light and gentle, and against her ear, it was like the softest breeze.
Burning wanted to hear it again, and she hummed. “What pony?” she asked, though she knew full well who Millie meant.
Millie, ever patient, just barely brushed her muzzle against Burning’s ear. “The pony outside of your place. Are they a client, or somepony else?”
“Just a pony,” said Burning simply. “Looked a little too curious, saw him lurking around a little too long but something about him made me feel uncomfortable.”
Millie brushed her nose and lips down Burning’s cheek. “Should I be worried?”
Burning leaned her head into Millie’s, and gave the slightest hint of a shake. “I don’t think so. You know I’ve got a good intuition over these things. He’s probably just doing his job.”
Millie sighed, and she leaned her head a small distance away from Burning. “Well that just makes me a little worried,” she said a little dryly. Millie cupped Burning’s chin in her other hoof, turning her head just enough to peck at the corner of her mouth. “But if you think it’s fine, I trust you.”
Burning fell silent and still as those words flowed like butter from Millie’s mouth, and something clicked in her mind. Burning understood what it was that was nagging at her tonight, and what had been nagging at her for the months prior.
Just a simple word put it all into perspective.
Burning laughed, her voice cracking a little as it deepened. This got a confused tilt of the head from Millie.
“What’s so funny?” asked Millie.
Burning didn’t take long to reel in her mirth, and she kissed Millie again before swallowing down a mouthful of her hot chocolate. She knew which tasted sweeter.
“Just how much I love you.” Burning beamed, grinning from ear to ear. “You are very special to me, and I really, really love you a lot.” She giggled again. “I just get worried about us, for silly reasons, but hearing you say you trust me means so, so much…” Her smile flattened out, and she looked down at the mug, now halfway empty.
Mille gently nudged at Burning’s cheek with her nose, then gave her a little space. “Can you tell me what’s bothering you?”
Burning nodded. There wasn’t much sense keeping that from a mare trained to suss out these feelings on a professional level.
“I just…” Burning trailed off and shut her eyes again. “I just think I’m not quite enough for you sometimes. You’re so kind and noble and I’m… I’m just good in bed.” She lifted her head, keeping her eyes closed, and imagining the impassive, attentive look on Millie’s face when she worked with her clients. It was easier to speak to that than whatever her expression might be now.
“But then you do little things that remind me why I love you,” Burning continued. “You’re dorky, you’re adorable, and you have far too much patience for my garbage.” Burning couldn’t help but laugh at herself. She stopped when one of Millie’s forelegs wrapped around her own.
“Your thoughts and worries aren’t garbage, Burn.” Millie’s voice was louder, more authoritative, but also gentle, and caring. Burning understood why. It was close to her therapist voice, almost detached, almost reserved, and designed to invoke so much understanding and comfort. “I love you, I really do.”
Burning’s eyes stung as the prelude to tears built in them. “Even though I cuddle other ponies?”
This time, Millie laughed. Burning opened her eyes and looked to Millie, expecting condescension and scorn, but she was greeted by the gentlest, sweetest smile.
“That doesn’t bother me, Burn. It’s your job.” Just like that, the quiet, marshmallow soft voice was back. Millie removed Burning’s mug, placing it onto the table. Somewhere, some of the froth had spilled over the edge, leaving a damp ring on the sofa and a soon-to-be-stain on the wood. A second later, and Burning was lifted up as Millie rolled onto her back, quickly finding her head tucked against the pink pony’s chest. Some of her blonde curls tickled at Burning’s nose.
Burning stared into the middle distance as she listened to her marefriend’s heartbeat, to the sounds of her breathing. She had been in this position uncountable times before with just as many ponies, but this was different. This time the intimacy wasn’t exciting. This time it wasn’t an obligation. On top of being comforting and soothing, it felt, most of all, refreshing and safe.
“Do you hate your job?” Millie asked.
Burning shook her head and made a small noise. “No.”
“Do you think you’re cheating on me?”
That was a more difficult question. “Maybe?” she said after a few moments of consideration. “I don’t… I don’t really do anything my clients don't agree to, and then they’re out and gone when we’re done.” One of Millie’s hooves pressed at the back of her head, pushing up her short crop of hair, presumably against the mare’s nose.
“I don’t think you are cheating on me,” said Millie. “I knew what to expect when we started dating.” Another hoof wrapped itself under Burning’s forelegs, squeezing her and dragging her up Millie’s torso, and the mare’s nose tickled Burning’s ear. “I was definitely a little worried at first, but you’ve done nothing but reassure me in your own ways. Lots of little gifts, always so helpful when you’re around. Gosh, you think of me when you’re worried and need somewhere to go.” There was another tug, another kiss to Burning’s crown. “I’m not really sure you know how much that all means to me, which makes those gestures even more important.”
Burning twisted herself, resting her chin flat against Millie’s chest. The way they were laying down, Millie’s head was propped against the armrest allowing them to look at each other. It probably wasn’t the most comfortable position for Millie, so Burning eased herself up, instead partly straddling her. Mille took the opportunity to wriggle down more comfortably, looking straight up.
“And it’s not that you get to cuddle with me for free every day, right?” asked Burning with a cheeky smirk.
Millie chuckled and pulled Burning back down against her, and the two fell side by side, face to face. When they relaxed, all of their limbs were now tangled together, thighs against hips and elbows under forelegs. “I suppose that is a nice little bonus,” Millie admitted, “but I don’t need it. I love you as you are.” She then pressed in and kissed Burning.
With those words in her ears and that sweet taste on her lips, Burning melted into Millie, and all her anxieties and concerns evaporated away.
