Midnight

This is a very awkward situation.

I really don't want to embarrass Midnight - even though she probably thinks otherwise. But the meeting with Starla a couple of days ago really got my noggin joggin.

For quite possibly the first time, Midnight was interested in her hairstyle. More importantly - the way that she looked.

From someone who has admitted she abhors what she is - that's gotta be a positive step forward.

And I have decided to capitalize on that opportunity and promote it.

Now, it would be nice to have a proper occasion to surprise her, such as Christmas or a birthday. But Christmas is too far away for me to wait, and I have no idea what Midnight's actual birthdate is.

It's likely she doesn't even know that. A hazy memory of times before the experimentation phase combined with relative isolation has made sure of that.

Hell, how old is she? Obviously, she's an adult, just from her size and mannerisms, but...

That really doesn't matter - I realize I'm thinking myself off the rails.

This evening, I decided to make a quick trip to the store to get a mirror for Midnight - one that doesn't require her to head downstairs to the bathroom or use a kitchen appliance.

She really needs to take pride in herself. I feel like it would go a long way toward helping her adapt to a new life and a new outlook. So bashfulness be damned, Midnight is getting a mirror.

It's one of those tall mirrors designed to hang from a door. It limits where it can be placed, but allows a full-body view for whoever is using it.

Of course, the next must-have items would be proper hair bands and a brush or two.

...man, these are some really girly thoughts.

Maybe this is going too far. What if Midnight now thinks I'm belittling her? The last couple of days have been awkward enough. It's been hard to get any sort of conversation going - or argument, for that matter. Despite saying she was prone to overthinking things, she's been lost in thought and quite distracted.

It has gotten to the point I've had to repeat tool requests - which she is usually sharp as a razor to retrieve.

It was obvious this was going to be a long battle. But I didn't expect it to completely fuck everything.

Not that I blame her. It just sucks that after everything got comfortable, the two of us have sort of lost what we had going.

At the very least, I have tried to be mindful of my compliments and other comments, so as to not make her start overthinking those as some sort of come-on.

And now I have bought her a mirror to perfect her looks.

Perhaps this plan wasn't so great after all...

My other concern is Midnight doesn't come off as overly feminine. The thought has occurred that I may have caught her at that one in a million times that she decided to just try something.

But she did say she was considering wearing her hair in a ponytail from time to time...

No, this is the right decision.

Finally coming to a conclusion with my internal debate - despite having already made the purchase - I pull myself out of the Trailduster and grab the box out of the back.

I'm going to assume Middie has herself buried in something on the laptop again - meaning I will get some semblance of a surprise out of her.

Making the trek up the stairs, I balance the present while fiddling with the doorknob before sliding the box through the open doorway.

"Well that didn't take long," I hear Midnight comment.

"I told you I wouldn't be," I answer. I catch sight of her on the couch as I close the door behind me.

I remain mindful enough to turn the box so the side that faces her is the plain, unprinted cardboard facing that offers no clues to Middie.

Regardless of my caution, I don't think Midnight has pried her eyes away from the screen for even a second - she hasn't seen a thing. The TV is on, adding some white noise to my humble abode - but is otherwise of little interest to her, as well.

"You got a minute?"

"If I tell you no, you're going to proceed with whatever it is anyway," she says, looking over into the kitchen. Her eyes instantly spot the plain brown box I'm holding.

"What did you buy?" The tone of her voice is almost scolding as if expecting this to be something expensive and useless.

"Oh, suddenly you're interested?"

I take a few more steps, stopping in the walkway between the kitchen island and the wall.

"What is it?"

"It's for you, I will say that."

"What. Is. It?" she demands impatiently.

"If you're going to have an attitude, never mind," I haughtily threaten, turning up my nose. I give her a second to stew in silence.

"Don't be an asshole, John."

"Alright. But promise me one thing."

"Maybe."

"Don't get all broody and embarrassed."

"What kind of a promise is th-"

As she responds, I spin the box around to cut her off. Midnight's initial reaction is one of confusion - before she actually focuses on the print.

"Are you shitting me?" she laments.

"I said no broodiness or embarrassment, Midnight."

"I - well I never agreed to that," she says.

"It was close enough."

"Did you seriously go out and buy this tonight?"

"Yep."

"...all because of what you witnessed Starla and I doing?"

"Yep."

Midnight purses her lips, trying to come up with something else to say.

A drawn-out silence allows me to actually enter the living room and open the box.

"It hangs up on a door, so I figure you can decide whether the inside of the door in the kitchen is best, or either side of my bedroom door. I'll leave it up to you."

"And you bought this just for me?"

I shrug. "I mean, I guess I can use it, too. It really wasn't expensive, Middie."

"I - just... why?"

"Because for the first time, you were looking at yourself in a way that wasn't just negativity. You should be happy with who you are, and maybe exploring different looks will help with that," I explain, holding the mirror out so she can view her reflection. "It seemed like you and Starla at least had some amusement out of the experience - the least I can do is try to stoke that ember, yeah?"

"You pick the weirdest damn things to focus on, John," she remarks.

"You might have a point - but I'm really just trying to help you find your place in the world. That's all."

"So it isn't for you?"

"I already said that it-"

"I mean it isn't for you - as in, to enjoy the results?" she suggests.

"Stop concerning yourself with me - I said I wasn't going to make things weird."

Midnight doesn't seem convinced, giving me an accusatory glare.

Okay, so this wasn't the right idea after all.

"Midnight - I was trying to be nice, I saw an opportunity to get you something to help you out. I'm sorry if you think there are additional connotations to this gift but... well, should I just take it back?"

It really didn't cost me that much. But I will not keep something that Midnight thinks is a ploy to get me closer to her.

"...no."

Midnight slides off the couch, approaching me and her gift with uncertainty. She spreads out her wings, glancing at herself at different angles.

"I still can't help but find it a little weird you bought this."

"And you're free to feel that way - but it isn't a gift in the way you dread it is."

"I never said I dreaded that," she replies, almost instantly grimacing at her choice of words. "I just don't know how I should feel about this. It's just... odd."

"We're in an odd situation now. Partly because of me, and partly due to other factors. All I can say is stop thinking about it - as you told me you were going to try to do. Go with the flow, Midnight."

"I guess..."

"Would it have been less embarrassing if I had asked first? Or brought it up in the store the next time we went together?"

Midnight doesn't say anything. She just continues to look at herself in the mirror.

"Midnight."

"You know, maybe braids wouldn't look so bad. I feel like I'd just be copying Starla's style, though," she muses, acting as if she did not hear anything I said.

Rather than overthink it, I take my own advice.

"If you think about it, that would be a lot nicer to deal with on windy days when we're working outside. Maybe it's just an idea to keep around in the back of your head - assuming you can do it. I sure as hell don't know anything about hair."

"Well thank goodness for small favors. I would expect you to know jack shit about hair."

"Because I'm a guy, or because I don't have long hair?"

"Bit of both."

"What if I had long hair at one point?"

"Did you?"

"No."

"Then what the hell was the point of that question?"

"I dunno. I felt like it was a question needing to be asked."

Midnight rolls her eyes in response, spinning around and hopping back up on the couch.

"Any idea where you want to put this, or is that a decision for later?"

"Later. Probably on your bedroom door - back of the kitchen door, there's a bigger risk of getting smacked in the face if someone opens it - since that is purely an entrance door."

Satisfied with that answer, I lean the mirror up against the far wall for now.

"Hadn't thought of that," I admit, taking a seat in my normal spot on the end. "Honestly, I wish you hadn't, either."

"...what?"

"It would have been good for a laugh the first time it happened."

Midnight goes from an expression of confusion to 'Are you kidding me' in the blink of an eye.

"I never specified a person or pony that had to be on the receiving end. Don't look at me in that tone of voice."

"There's one particular individual that would be more likely to suffer being the butt of the joke."

"Well, shit happens," I say with a shrug.

Midnight turns her head away from me, levitating her laptop over.

Without warning, she flops over, her head resting on my leg and her mane virtually burying it.

Um... What.

"You know I'm not a pillow, right?"

"I'm not going to go searching for one. Blame yourself for not buying any - though the mirror is nice."

I cast a glance over to the other end of the couch. Where a small pillow lies unused.

"I'll put it on my list of shit I habitually forget to buy."