Twilight closed her eyes and tried to imagine her.
It was harder than one would think, because Apple Fritter was, by every metric, beautiful.
Her mane, a brilliant shade of green, cascaded around her withers, tied at the ends to make two twin braids. The color was so rich, so vibrant, unlike anything that Twilight had ever seen in her life.
The only thing greener were her eyes, the ones that shone so full and bright that she often wondered if Fritter had stars instead of pupils. Twilight imagined those bright, kind eyes shimmering above her and felt herself melt to their warmth.
All of this accentuated the tones of her coat perfectly. Twilight had briefly studied color theory and knew that yellow and green were two shades that compliment each other wonderfully. To see a living, breathing, beautiful example nearly knocked her off her hooves.
Twilight remembered the first day, all those years ago, when she had first met Apple Fritter.
Her mind was still a mess, reeling from the humiliation of Celestia’s abrupt dismissal, swirling with ancient texts and warnings, and absolutely overwhelmed by the sheer number of ponies rushing towards her. Applejack had shouted out, her voice still unfamiliar and harsh to her ears back then, and an army of ponies stormed towards them, shouting and hollering and whooping.
Twilight had half a mind to teleport herself away from the chaos, but then she had come face to face with Apple Fritter.
Applejack introduced her heartily, giving her a pat on the back and winking at Twilight, saying something about her cousin being “more on the quiet side.”
Fritter had smiled shyly and Twilight’s senses were overloaded. Cadance would later tease her that she had never seen anyone be as instantly smitten with someone as Twilight was that day, and as much as Twilight fought this claim she knew that there had to be some truth to it.
Fritter presented to her a plate of apple fritters (because of course she would), and Twilight vaguely remembered remarking how she had never tasted anything as rich and vibrant in her life.
The pony Fritter had giggled quietly, a light blush tingling her cheeks. But before anything more could be said, she was whisked away in the crowd as Applejack shoved another relative towards her, rambling on and on about traditions and foods.
Twilight took a deep breath and began to assimilate all of this information. She pictured the green tones falling against a yellow base, she drew from her memory that smile draped against a horde of faceless ponies. She remembered how it all felt, and how every fiber of her being became infatuated with this pony that she had just met.
She could picture it so clearly, so vividly in her mind.
When she opened her eyes to see the canvas in front of her, she grimaced and began to cry.
Twilight threw herself onto the table, groaning in frustration. “Ugh! Stupid! Art sucks!”
Before she could incinerate the entire thing with a spell, her ear twitched as hooves clacked on floorboards behind her. Twilight whipped around to see a very real Apple Fritter behind her, staring very curiously in her direction.
Twilight gulped. “O-Oh! Um. Hey.”
Fritter closed the gap between them with quick strides, looking up and down at Twilight with an amused grin the entire time. Once she was in front of her, Fritter reached out and brushed a hoof against Twilight’s cheek. She held it up to show that it had come up with a smudge of brown paint.
Twilight’s cheeks flushed a bright, deep red in humiliation as her ears pressed down against her head. A glance at the mirror nearby showed that she was absolutely covered in splotches of paint, from her mane down to her fetlocks. “I, uh… I’ll clean it up,” she sputtered, overcome with another urge to teleport away.
Apple Fritter laughed in her unique, silent way, pulling Twilight in for a hug and giving her pats on the head. She seemed unbothered by the paint that had transferred itself from Twilight’s coat, which brought some relief to Twilight that was quickly lost when Fritter noticed the canvas.
“D-Don’t!”
But it was too late.
Twilight grimaced, waiting for the inevitable.
Fritter was so beautiful, so perfect in her mind, but that perfection had instantly fallen apart when Twilight had tried to transfer this to the canvas.
The love of her life was represented as a stick-pony with a curved red line across their face meant to represent a smile. Their eyes were two dots set at two different heights, making her stare in two directions at once, and the plate of fritters in her hoof was nothing more than a jumble of vague brown shapes.
“It’s, uh… It’s you! When we met,” Twilight offered weakly. She pointed to the brown lines topped with green blobs. “Those are, um. Trees. Well, they’re meant to be trees anyways.”
Fritter smiled.
“I’m sorry!” Twilight wailed. “I wanted to give you something special and Luna was telling me how paintings were traditional so I thought I’d try, but it’s so hard and I’m absolutely awful at it! I’ll just throw it away–”
Fritter stopped Twilight’s hoof with her own, gently pushing it back to the floor.
She picked up the canvas and balanced it on her back, trotting out of the workshop. Twilight hesitantly followed her into the living room, where she watched as Fritter set the painting on a nail hanging above the couch.
“Y-You don’t want to burn it?”
Fritter shook her head.
“But… But it’s awful!”
Fritter shrugged and pointed at Twilight. But you made it and that’s what matters.
Twilight blushed, rubbing one paint-stained foreleg with another. “I… I guess,” she muttered. Before she could complain any further, Fritter closed the gap between them and kissed her.
Immediately Twilight melted again, losing herself in Fritter’s lips. Huh, she thought to herself. Maybe art isn’t so bad after all!
