This is what happens when you save things for the last minute, dummy.
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This is what happens when you save things for the last minute, dummy.
"Sweetie Belle, darling! Are you ready yet?"
"Coming, Rarity!"
It was an early frosty morning in Ponyville, the sun just starting to peek over the horizon and casting a warm glow over Carousel Boutique. Rarity's hurried hoofsteps could be heard semi-patiently treading through the entrance, and Sweetie Belle finally came close behind, shutting the door behind them with a DING coming from the bell above.
Hearthswarming Eve was just a few days away, and the sisters were prepared to do their annual last-minute shopping spree in town center. It would be mania, they knew, but that's what made it their tradition! (Ergo, Sweetie Belle was always still inclined to save things for later, and Rarity continued to instill time management skills without prevail.)
As they hurried towards the town center, the sweet aroma of freshly baked treats wafted through the air, and the sight of knick knacks and passion projects filled Sweetie Belle with excitement. The town market was always lined with all sorts of delightful goodies, from gourmet delicacies to homemade accessories, but the bustle of the holidays made things more packed than ever.
"Alright, here are some bits..." Rarity said with a smile, looking down at her sister. "We'll meet back at half past noon. Are you sure you don't need help with finding anything? Or any ideas?"
Sweetie Belle shook her head emphatically. She knew exactly what she needed. She had already gotten gifts for the other Crusaders, and Rarity's gift was already bought a month in advance--way too early by Sweetie Belle's standard, in all honesty. But she had one more gift on her list, and she didn't care if it took her all night to finish it.
"Don't worry. I've got it all under control!"
"That's what I'm worried about," Sweetie Belle thought she heard her sister mutter, but her sister cleared her throat to continue. "Never mind, then. I'll see you in a couple of hours."
Sweetie Belle beamed as her sister began to saunter off, making her way towards the opposite stalls.
She knew what she wanted to get; most of the supplies needed for her craft were at home. There was just one final element needed, and she knew exactly where to retrieve it. However...
"No!" Sweetie Belle let out a groan at the sudden sight of the curving line. The stall before her sold windchimes made of gem, cut so intricately and thinly that it still whistled when air blew through it. Its popularity made sense, but she didn't realize it would be this popular. She sighed as she reached the queue's tail, plopping into place to wait for her turn.
The line snaked in a way that she didn't know was possible, and every time she thought she was closer to the front, the line continued to wrap around the stand. With each passing minute she carried on looking at the clock on Ponyville's tower. It's ticking swirled in the back of her mind, causing her to frown every time its hands drew closer to 12:30.
Sweetie Belle could feel her heart sink slowly with disappointment. She had already been waiting for over an hour now, and her turn did not appear to draw any. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her agitation. But she groaned again.
She was desperate. She needed this! It was the best gift to get her point across; it had to be!
So she still waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.
Until, finally...
"Next!"
Sweetie Belle's ears perked up at the sight, and she happily trotted to the salesmare, bits at the ready.
"Phew!" And the salesmare wiped sweat off her brow, pulling out two wind chimes straight after. "You're in luck! These have been selling like hotcakes!" And she paused, the filly's eagerness being more than apparent. "Last two! Take your pick!"
Both were beautiful--and even Sweetie Belle felt that was an understatement. But that red one, shining brilliantly. Red. The color of affection and intoxication and adoration.
He'd love it...
"I'll take that red one please!"
"Perfect!" the salesmare mused, preparing to wrap up the gift. "That will be 1,000 bits."
Sweetie Belle's jaw dropped. "WHAT?!"
"Well, it's hoofmade! I carved these all myself!"
"B-but," and Sweetie Belle choked down a protest. All of Rarity's works were custom made; those too were pricy for the work and effort. So she sighed. "Do you... happen to have anything cheaper?"
The salesmare tilted her head. Sweetie Belle hoped she pitied foals. "Tell ya what: I have some unfinished and broken ones in the back. I'll sell it to you for 100. Deal or no deal?"
Still somewhat dejected, the filly shrugged. It was better than nothing. And as the clock struck 12:30, she found herself 100 bits poorer and with more work to complete.
When it finally came time to put the gift together, Sweetie Belle was at a dead end. She had rehearsed what to write on the card many times in her head, but as soon the pen hit the paper, she would stop herself.
This is so embarrassing!
"Sweetie Belle?" And suddenly Rarity was at the door. "Are you almost done? I'm going to wrap all the presents soon."
"It's fine!" Sweetie Belle chimed. "I can wrap this myself!"
She thought she saw Rarity grimace. "No, darling. I insist. Just let me know when you're finishing up."
The filly knew not to protest, and holding back a moan of annoyance, she plainly said, "Okay."
Instantly, she turned back to her card, the only thing written at the top being "Dear Spike". She flushed at the sight, burying her head in her hooves.
Why did writing love notes have to be so difficult?
Eventually, she took a deep breath. No. She had to tell him how she felt. And this Hearthswarming would be the proper day to do it!
In a flash, she wrote her feelings down.
"Dear Spike,
"These past few years, I have admired you from afar. I know you understand what it's like, having to harbor your feelings for somepony, but I wanted to let you know that I think you are wonderful and one of a kind. It always makes me happy to see you sometimes helping out at the Boutique. You're so thoughtful to everypony too. So this year, I wanted to share my true feelings. Please let me know if you feel the same."
And before she could sign her name, Rarity was back in the doorway.
"Are you done yet, darling?"
Sweetie Belle couldn't hold back her groan this time. "Yes, Rarity! I'm finished."
"Good," and with her magic, Rarity enveloped the card. "I'll wrap our gifts then. Now, you. Get rest! Big day tomorrow!"
The filly swallowed. Everypony would be gathering to open all the presents tomorrow--a newfound tradition now that the Crusaders were just a bit older. She could only hope that things would turn out well, but everything thus far had been a disaster otherwise!
The wind chime, as the salemare said, was faulty. It was quite difficult to work around it and make it look nice, and to follow, the macaroni project failed as a backup plan. That in itself had taken her hours and hours and days, so now?
Deep breaths.
Things will be okay.
Things were not okay.
"Okay, let's see who's next!" The Princess of Friendship scanned the pile of presents under her tree, grinning from ear to ear. She picked the one farthest from her, bringing it over to read the tag. Upon finding none, she squinted at the attached envelope. "Oh! This one's for Spike!"
This is it, Sweetie Belle thought, rocking lightly in place. No turning back.
His reaction towards the wind chime was exactly as she thought--stunned and appreciative. Sure, it wasn't the best work, but it was well enough with what she got: a mini mobile made out of gem shards. She was proud of her creativity in that regard.
Then it was time for the card. And Spike read it out loud.
But no reaction came.
"It isn't signed," he said finally.
And a series of "Ooh"s filled the room.
"A secret admirer!" Sweetie Belle felt Applebloom jump at her side. "This is so excitin'!"
"No, wait!" And now Pinkie Pie seemed to chime in. (Sweetie Belle knew she was in trouble now.) "It says Boutique! Maybe like Rarity's place!"
And instead of considering the anxious filly, all heads turned to Rarity.
"What? That's not..." Sweetie Belle watched Rarity glance at her for a moment. Was it with sympathy? Concern? Annoyance? She wasn't sure. But before she could determine it, she hastily excused herself before rushing out the castle door.
It was cold out on the palace steps. She didn't want to travel too far; she still had gifts to retrieve.
Sweetie Belle wasn't sure she wanted to face Spike again after that, though. She rested her head against the stair railing, looking up at the stars.
I'm so stupid...
"Sweetie Belle?"
A voice. It made her jump.
No, not a voice. Hisvoice.
"Oh," she began shakily. "Hey, Spike."
"Is everything okay?"
She was tempted to lie. 'Everything is great' is what she wanted to say, but the words never left her lips.
"I really liked your gift," he said finally.
So he knows.
"Do you really feel that way?" he asked. "About, you know, liking me? And stuff?"
Sweetie Belle had to giggle at his awkwardly phrased bluntness. "Yeah," she uttered. "It was supposed to be more special, but..."
"It was special!" He exclaimed. "I really liked it."
Sweetie Belle sent him a quick look before looking back down to the ground with a small smile. "I'm glad."
The two were silent for a moment. And then--
"You know, Rarity's--"
Sweetie Belle cut him off, "Let me guess: you still like her, don't you?" And before he could respond, she continued, "I knew this was a bad idea!"
"No!" He started. "Actually, the opposite. I..." And he paused, seeming to try to find the right words. He pulled out a box of his own, quite small with Sweetie Belle's name on it. "This is for you."
Curiously, the filly took the gift, and slowly but surely, she opened it.
"Oh, Spike!" She was beaming. It was a small pendant necklace made from a strip of red gem--nearly identical to the preferred wind chime. "This is beautiful!"
"I was going to give it to you later and away from everyone regardless," and she swore she saw his cheeks turn pink for a moment. "If you want, would you like to... Maybe..."
And in her excitement, she exploded. "Spike! Do you want to go out sometime?"
And he smiled, nodding his head.