The studio apartment was cold and silent, except for one room. Slight moans and gasps could be heard through the door, heat centralizing from a certain spot in the room, the creaking of a wooden bedframe sounded against the walls. The collective moans of two ponies sounded through that room on cue with a passionate, sweet release.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I awoke in my bedroom. How I ever managed to get here whilst being intoxicated, I have no clue. The soft material of my pillowcase was a welcoming feeling. I tried to sit up, but felt a weight on my chest. I looked down and saw Redheart, still fast asleep. I barely remembered what happened after our kiss, so I can only assume that we did have sex. I could smell musk and sweat on the bed fabrics, confirming my guess.

I sighed quietly and gently pushed Redheart to my side. She stirred a bit, but stayed asleep. I could hear the pitter-patter of a gentle rain on the windows. I looked around my bedroom; it was quite dark. There were no lamps, just this bed and a dresser for my clothes. The only light source came from the Sun through the smaller window, though I enjoyed writing by the moonlight.

I got out of my bed and walked back to my large office space, where Redheart and I had conversed about a few hours ago. I looked out the large, rain covered windows at the distorted view of the Twin Tails River and the gray sky that loomed above everything. I walked over to my desk and sat in front of my typewriter.

I let my magic take hold of my years-old companion and began to type. I don't know what I was doing; I just let my mind and magic flow together and let the ink make sense of itself. I thought of what was going on, how my past was finally catching up to me, and of Redheart. I sighed and paused at the thought of her being used by them. I began to grind my jaw a bit out of anger, before closing my eyes and letting my magic take hold of my mind completely.

I felt my magic tapping away at each metal key on the board. I was a musician, and the typewriter was my piano. My imagination was locked, this device was the key. My past eats at my soul constantly, this is my way to heal. I type and I type, letting it all go into my story. I don't care if ponies find me anymore. If this is where I die, then so be it. I think I've done enough to say I deserve it.

"I figured this is where you'd walked off to." Redheart's voice cut through the background of my mind. I acknowledged it, but kept my silence and kept typing. I heard her hoofsteps in the background, a hoof on my shoulder, but still I typed. I figured that she would only bother me until I actually responded. I sighed and let go of the typewriter.

"Yes?" I turned to her, a bit irritated.

"What are you writing?" She queried, she was reading the paper the was coming out of my device. "Another story?"

I shook my head. "I'm just letting out some angst."

"Really?" She said. "Because it looks like somepony needs some way to relax. And right now, that pony needs to get out of the house. NOW." She was completely serious, and kept a serious face as she trotted towards the door. I was about to question it when I felt a very cold feeling crawling up my spine. I went back to my room to get a sweater, and returned to her by the door.

"Is there anywhere we can go for a little while?" She asked.

"The little cafe on the corner. You don't have to explain, I think I know what's going on." She nodded, waiting for me to lead her out.

It had stopped raining, but the sky was still gray and dark. I had no watch, and the Sun was obviously blocked from view, so I had no idea what time it would be. Red stayed by my side silently as we walked to the cafe. There wasn't anyone walking at this time, so I'd have to guess it was still early.

Redheart kept looking around, a look of fear on her face. I was also paranoid, but could not feel any eyes on us. We made it to the little corner shop, which was thankfully open. I payed for two coffees and gave the other one to Red. The mare didn't really drink it, just pushed the foam cup around her side of the table we sat at. I took a sip of the coffee, welcoming the warm liquid to give some comfort.

"Do you remember anything from Manehatten?" She asked, breaking the silence and finally taking a sip of coffee.

"Like what?" I asked back. She looked into my eyes with her pleading stare.

"Please Ink, I don't want to die like this, we can't just run away from them like you always have." She pushed.

I accepted. "Exactly. I'm tired of running. They want my life, they'll have it." Redheart gasped at this, great concern on her face.

I continued, "But that doesn't mean that they won't be having problems as well. We can still fight. They haven't followed us, and I can only assume that they're meddling at my apartment. We can only expect some kind of trap or something of the like."

Redheart looked at the window, as rain once again started to strike the glass with an uneven rhythm. "Why?" She asked after a short silence.

I raised my eyebrow and replied, "Why, what?" There was so much going on, what could she possibly want to know now?

"Why do you write? I recognize the stories; we lived through each of them." Her sad, gray-blue eyes looked straight at me, trying to read my soul. I took another sip of my coffee and thought a bit before responding.

"Ever since Manehatten, I've been having nightmares. Every night, tormenting me with my past, leaving me distraught and weak." I looked straight back at her. "I had to find a way to let it all out. So I wrote it all out. All I could remember from my first run, how we were almost nearly killed. How I felt, and what I had to do in order to escape everything. It hurt to recall the events, and I hated having to do so. But it was the onyl way to bring my nightmares to an end. Until lately, at least."

Now Redheart's eyebrow was raised. I continued, "I had a bad feeling about moving here, I could tell that this town wouldn't bear me well. And look where we are now: In a little coffee shop, hiding from the very people trying to kill us since our youth."

I looked down at my coffee, my demeanor a bit sullen. "I wish I could have taken a better path, maybe even ended it all when I had the chance. Anything but this life, I'd take it." I looked to her, and put my hoof to her cheek. "And I would have killed myself before letting you get involved with all of this crap."

Her eyes were rimmed with tears, but she wore a small smile. "We've given them enough, I think. We should see what they've done." She proposed, before trotting to the door and throwing away her coffee. I followed her actions and continued by her side back to my apartment.

We reached the stoop when a faint click sounded. Suddenly, BOOOOOM!!! a large explosion erupted from my door. The next thing I knew, I was staring up at the sky, my body numb from the pain. I could hear the sound of talons against the wet cement. "Ink Flow, you talented, cowardly bastard." I heard a gruff voice near me. The face of the speaker came into view: it was a grey plumed griffon, with a long scar that ran down the left side of his face, crossing over his eye. "We finally found you. It's about time you paid back for your little parting gift from Manehatten." He pointed to the scar.

"Fuck you too, Grissom." I replied, spitting blood at his face with the small amount of strength I had. He wiped it off before turning to speak to someone behind him.

"Take the whore nurse as well. That'll be enough torture for him." I wish I could punch him, but my body was still numb in shock from the pain. Grissom then put a small handkerchief to my mouth. After a few seconds, I saw nothing but black.

Author's Note

Hey, update on Ink Flow! I'm on writer's block for Three Best Friends right now, so I'll try to work on this one.