Getting Rest Is Hard Work
“Rarity, please.”
“Hush, darling. I’ll only be a moment.”
You blink before doing your best to withhold a sigh. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you resign yourself to your inevitable fate of not actually getting to sleep any time soon. With a slight shuffle, you decide to sit up from your comfortable position in the grand canopy bed positioned in the center of Rarity’s bedroom.
The two of you have been dating for a few years now, and it was about a year ago that you officially moved into Rarity’s home above Carousel Boutique. It would be a lie to say that the transition was easy. Your lovely marefriend is quite particular about the way she lives, and she expects you to follow her strict guidelines to perfection every single day. That’s not to say she’s overly controlling or anything; far from it. Your free-spirited attitude is a part of why she cares so deeply for you.
At least, so she says.
Still, she has a very specific manner in which she likes to live, and you just have to respect that. It was an adjustment, sure, but nothing you’re not capable of handling. You don’t have a lot of space for your belongings, but you didn’t own much to begin with. She expects you to be perfectly tidy and not leave so much as a toothbrush out of place (despite being quite lax with that rule when it comes to her own conduct). You can’t make too much noise, especially during business hours or when she’s having one of her… what does she call them? “Inspiration workshops?” Regardless, it’s not like you’re a loud individual. If anything, she does most of the talking between the two of you, and you’re perfectly content with that.
Oh, and you have to do most of the manual labor in and around the boutique, but that’s barely an issue for someone of your stature. Besides, you like to feel important.
With your back against the bed’s headboard, you fold your hands behind your head and watch Rarity carry out her typical routine. While you had to do little besides undress, brush your teeth, and briefly wash off your face, the ever-proper Rarity has a much more lengthy and methodical process when it comes to getting ready for bed.
First, her face mask. Thankfully, she already took care of that during the uneventful evening, otherwise you’d be waiting a lot longer to actually get to sleep. Following that is the application of her mane curlers, which are already in place. She will, of course, remove them before actually falling asleep, but you’re not quite there yet.
Right now, she’s going through the process of carefully removing her makeup. Admittedly, you never quite understood the obsession with such cosmetics, but you know better than to say as much aloud. At the moment, she’s standing in the attached bathroom, carefully eyeing her own features in the mirror as her horn glows blue. With a wince, she removes one false eyelash. A moment later, the other peels right off as well. That… doesn't look pleasant, but she’s surely used to it. With the eyelashes off, she gingerly begins removing her ever-popular blue eyeshadow. With a smile and a roll of your eyes, you turn around and place your head back on your pillow, doing your best to shield yourself from the light pouring in from both the bathroom and the bedside lamp beside you.
From the bathroom, you can hear Rarity turning on the faucet. Water gently splashes against what you can only assume to be her face. You deprived yourself of the opportunity to watch that beautiful face of hers get a little wet by looking away, but hey, there’s always tomorrow. The mental image of Rarity’s snow-white coat getting unflatteringly soaked is both humorous and adorable, but for the sake of your health, you probably shouldn’t let her know that.
A few minutes later, the sound of running water comes to a stop. From your peripheral vision, you can see the light from the bathroom finally going out with a click of the lightswitch. Your lovely marefriend quietly hums to herself as she saunters over to a nearby drawer. You still aren’t facing her, but you know full well that she’s retrieving a small amount of incense. Sure enough, you hear the familiar sound of magic followed by the pleasant, relaxing aroma of… well, you have no idea. She imports that stuff from Celestia-knows-where, and any guess you could possibly come up with would most assuredly be wrong.
You feel a tug on the comforter above you as the sound of magic continues to permeate through the room. She’s straightening the bed out, even with you underneath it. It appears that the verdict of her daily on-again off-again relationship with tidiness has landed on the former outcome. She lets out a quiet, satisfied “mm-hmm!” before making her way over to her vanity. The sound of magic picks up one last time as she removes her mane curlers.
Finally, you hear her gentle hooves make their way across the bedroom and turn off the bedside lamp, finally bathing the room in complete darkness. There’s a relative silence in the bedroom, bar the shuffling of the marshmallow mare creeping into bed alongside you. You hear her let out a quiet whinny as she makes herself comfortable, and you can’t stop a smile from spreading across your face.
“Finally got everything in order?” you whisper.
“Yes, yes I have. You mustn't question a lady’s methods, darling. A mare’s nighttime routine is sacred, and to interrupt it is tantamount to… to… a personal affront!”
“Am I ‘interrupting’ you by being in bed before you’re ready?”
“Not at all, dear.” She giggles sweetly in the darkness before gently booping your nose with her soft hoof. Oh how the tables have turned. “If anything, you make for quite the handsome centerpiece.”
“Well, this ‘centerpiece’ is ready to get some shut-eye.”
“As am I. We have a very important order to fulfill tomorrow, and we’re going to need all the rest we can get.”
“We?”
“I will need your help with some of the more menial labor due to the sheer quantity of work being asked of me. That’s… not going to be a problem, is it?”
Despite the room being completely dark, you can tell she’s batting her (now much less prominent) eyelashes at you. You let out a single, quiet chuckle.
“Nah, I’m happy to help.”
“Thank you, love. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
You feel the bed shuffling beneath you as Rarity turns away, making a concentrated effort to get comfortable on her half of the bed. It only takes a few seconds for her to fall completely still, her quiet, controlled breathing the only sound in the otherwise silent room. Finally, Carousel Boutique is at rest. It’s dark, it’s quiet, it’s peaceful, and it’s the perfect environment to get some well-deserved sleep.
…Well, for her, at least. You still have to finish your nightly routine.
A mischievous smile creeps across your lips as you reach your arms out in front of you. A gasp escapes Rarity as you yank her out of her comfortable sleeping position and into your grasp. Your comparably large form practically envelops the mare, your gentle-yet-firm grip on her ensuring that she can’t escape the warm embrace of your chest and arms.
“Wh-what do you think you’re doing?!”
“Getting comfortable.”
“Darling, you’re going to mess up my maaaaaaane!” she whines.
Despite her protest, there’s a clear sense of humor in her voice. Were the lights on, you’d surely catch her stifling a smile.
“I don’t think you have to worry about that. As if anything could make you any less perfect.”
Holding her close, you bury your face in her mane. The faint scent of perfume is barely noticeable above the nearby incense, but it’s there all the same. It’s the familiar, cozy smell you’ve learned to associate with her, and you quickly find whatever tension you had left in your body slowly melting away. From head to hoof, Rarity is nothing if not soft. The smile never leaving your face, you plant a smooch right above her horn.
With one more pleased sigh, Rarity pushes her back closer against you. She’s always loved being the little spoon.
“Flattery will get you everywhere, love. It helps that you’re so warm.”
“I take it you’re comfortable, then?”
“Please, never let me go.”
“Hmhm. Of course, Rarity. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, darling.”
It barely takes a minute for the faint sound of Rarity’s gentle breathing to turn into nearly inaudible snores. You, too, feel consciousness beginning to drift away. After all, being in such a comfortable bed, in such a comfortable place, with such a comfortable mare in your arms is the perfect recipe for a good night’s sleep. The routine necessary to reach this point is difficult, sure.
But you can’t wait to do it again tomorrow.
Author's Note
The result of a sleep-deprived brain in the middle of the night. 
