Going to The Dentist [Minuette]

>It's been roughly a month since your unceremonious arrival in Equestria
>a late night drive home
>from work, you think
>It was pretty foggy
>anyway, that was your last memory of earth, followed by your first memory of Equestria
>falling into a tree in the Everfree forest
>You'd tumbled out, and wandered in a rural city of talking ponies
>You then ran out screaming, because it was a rural city of talking ponies
>Afterward, you had heard a voice claiming to be a princess, and not a threat
>She seemed kind enough, and her words, along with the strong possibility of starving in the woods, convinced you to trust here.
>You'd stayed in a spare room of some sort of castle, writing out everything about Earth that you could remember
>You could not remember much
>Anyway, Twilight was interested, and you figured this secured your living quarters for the time being
>Not to mention, you didn't want to forget about your home, in case you never got back
>The room was cozy, the six people
>ahem
>the six horses that visited you were kind (and easy enough to socialize with), and things were going about as well as could be expected
>Until you woke up with a toothache
"Oh fuck that hurts!"
>you contort your face in pain and spit out the candy you'd been stuffing yourself with
>pretty much your main source of food, actually
>you'd given it nothing but affection and attention, and this is how it repays you
>you rush down to twilight, wincing at the pulsing pain coming from your tooth
>with the social and linguistic grace that can be expected of you, you casually inform Twilight of your predicament by shouting ow over and over and pointing towards your mouth
>she gives you a confused look, which is pretty much the standard
"Tooth hurts"
>you moan, heroically combating the agony of your mouth in order to pronounce the sentence properly
>she gives you an understanding look, and an "ah!" and directs your to a nearby stool
>"Spike! magnifying glass!"
>The little, almost-dragon thing stumbles into a drawer in its haste, and nearly knocks over Twilight in its eagerness to hand it to her
>Weird little guy
>"Open your mouth and point to where it hurts, Anon"
>she takes a look around your mouth, and quickly spots your swollen gums
>"Okay, I think I found the problem."
>Thank goodness
>"Now let's see if I can remember the spell..."
>Her unsure tone worries you, but this is the princess of magic after all.
>If you can't trust her, then who can you-
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHH!"
>The pain that was committed to a single tooth has spread to your whole mouth now
>Every brush of your tongue sent new flames of anguish into your teeth
>You informed Twilight of her failure through a serious of shrieks and gasps
>"Oh no, oh no! I think I used the wrong spell!"
>You agree
>Spike stands to the side, nodding his head with the impartiality of a scientist
>With the three parties in agreement, the two non-wizards stare at Twilight, waiting for the next plan of action
>"Ok, I think I know what to do-"
>The purple glows encircles her horn again, and you feel the pain mostly fade
>Along with most of your other feelings
>Except for a dull ache in your teeth, you can't feel anything
"What'd you do?"
>"I used an old military spell to block your pain"
>"The problem is that it won't last, and I haven't the first clue as to how to fix your toothache"
>A look of horror dawns on your face as you reach the conclusion she's coming to
>"Anon, you're going to have to go to the dentist."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
> you cry, informing her of your position on the matter
>You reiterate your position once more as she explains to you that the dentist is the only one that can help you now, and then as she drags you with magic over to the office.
>Now in front of the doors, you moan one last no, just in case your beliefs weren't made clear
>Twilight orders you in and magics the door open, and you walk in, defeated
>A sprightly looking receptionist perks up at the bipedal customer
>Besides your brief and embarassing entrance, you hadn't been around these ponies much
>You just stuck to your room and racked your brain for every historical event
>sort of like how you stuck to your room on earth and played video games
>you were shit at talking to members of your own species, no way were you going to succeed here
>after a few concerned looks, she asks if she can help you, almost hiding her confusion over what you are
"I have a toothache, and Twilight made it worse"
>"I, uh, see."
>She looks down at her clipboard and makes a quick note
>"Can I have your name and address, please?"
"Anon, and I'm at the big magic castle"
>Another curious look at you, and she's scribbles the information down
>"Please be seated. The doctor will be right with you."
>A couple rounds of thumb-twiddling and a bored glance at the horse magazines pass the time until a light blue pony steps out
>"Anon?"
>You wave a hand in the air, indicating that the only person in the waiting room is indeed the only person that would be called on
>She smile turns to a quizzical look when she spots first your hand, than all of you
>She gazes at you for a solid minute, completely forgetting herself
>Not that you weren't doing the same.
>She had this short, well trimmed cyan coat, a few shades darker than Rainbow Dash
>Silver and Cobalt striped hair, slightly draped our her right eye
>A little bit was sticking up near her horn
>Her eyes were wide, with irises that looked to be a combination of both the silver and cobalt of her hair, shimmering in the bright office lights
>Her mouth was slightly ajar, and tilted up on the side, like a kid on Christmas who wasn't quite sure what the present he received was, but knew that it was a present and that was enough.
>It takes you a minute to realize you'd been holding your breath in your stare contest.
"Um, I'm Anon"
>you try to break the silence
>The confusion vanishes from her face, and she assumes the widest smile you've seen
>"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Anon! I'm Minuette, and I'll be your dentist today!
>The smile puts you somewhat at ease
>After all, you're still in a world of talking ponies and at a dentist
>"Right this way," she exclaims, and trots down the hallway, then into a room to the left
>there's no chair
>right
>ponies probably stand
>you sit down and cross you legs, Buddha-style, now at eye level
>"Oh! there's no chair in here!"
>She looks slightly troubled, and starts towards the door
>"Then again, I don't think you'd fit in any of our chairs..."
>She turns to you, her smile apologetic now
>"I guess you'll have to sit there. I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Anon."
>It's fine, you're used to lacking human accommodations.
"It's fine, I'm used to it."
>She perks up a little bit at that
>"Well alrighty then! Let's get to work!"
>She looks at a clipboard in our her hoof
>"So what has been your diet?"
"You mean today, or in general?"
>"Both!"
"Candy. Some carrots, I think. Mostly candy though."
>For the first time since you've seen her, her jovial expressions are replaced with stark terror
>"Y-y-you've been eating nothing but candy?"
"No. I had some carrots yesterday."
>she places a hoof on her forehead, and sighs deeply
>"Well, I suppose there aren't dentists wherever you come from then"
>An out
"Uh, yeah. No dentists there. Not really sure what the term means, heh heh."
>Sometimes you feel lucky that ponies can't read human body language, because fuck are you looking guilty right about now
>Minuette seems sated by your answer, and raises her head like a teacher
>"I see. Well, there are different effects that different foods have on your teeth. I won't explain all the details, but candy, or most sweet things, result in toothaches
"But candy tastes great! And it's not like I can eat-
>you stop yourself from saying meat
>you don't need to say anything to ruin your chances with these ponies
>"eat what?"
"Herda Burda Fyrda. It's something we made where I come from, and I'm pretty sure the ingredients don't exist here
>You're pretty sure that's something the Swedish Chef has cooked
>"Oh, I see. Well, I'm afraid that you're still going to have to place limits on your candy-eating, unless you want more toothaches."
>"Now, where is the pain?"
"Well, it was right here,"
>you point out the source
"But Twilight casted some spell and made it hurt everywhere."
>She nods her head, a knowing look entering her eyes
>"I have an idea of what she did."
>"Let me just..."
>that magic cloud engulfs her horn, and you see it weaving its wards towards your mouth
>instinctively, you pull away
>you're used to Twilight, sort of, but this magic thing is still weird
>concern crosses Minuette's face
>"What's wrong, Anon?"
>Those blue eyes are boring into you.
"Oh, um, sorry.
I'm not really used to this magic thing."
>She cocks her head to the left
>"You mean there wasn't magic where you came from?"
"Nope. Well, not really. I mean there were magicians and possibly a God, but I don't think either of them count.
I guess I'm just not used to it."
>she takes a step closer, and gives you a warm smile
>"I can't say I completely understand, Anon.
>But I've done this procedure dozens of times, and I would never, ever let a patient of mine come to harm.
>Some part of you needed this.
>You played it cool for the most part, pretending that you were alright whenever Twilight would ask
>Even convinced yourself
>But that small reassurance gave you a little more courage than she probably realized
>You took a breath, and returned her smile, though you doubt you could do it as sweetly.
"Alrighty then."
>That blue cloud of magic swallows her horn again, and twists over to you.
>You feel it filling your mouth, as your teeth begin to tingle
>"Now this is going to hurt, but only for a little bit, she promises"
>You nod, and close your eyes
>The pain of the morning comes back gradually, until the full force is back
>You clamp your eyes shut and force your mouth to stay open
>Then, gently as ever, the pain begins to lift.
>The agony turns to discomfort, then to irritation, then back to simple tingling
>When you open your watery eyes, the concentration of Minuette's face relaxes into her easy smile
>She closes her eyes and grins at you, melting your heart a little bit
>"Well, that takes care of that!"
>You smile back at her, more authentically than your others
"Thanks, Minuette.
For everything."
>She seems to understand your meaning, and trots over to your side, sitting down alongside you
>"I know it doesn't compare, but I was a little afraid when I first came to Ponyville.
>"I didn't know anybody, and even though I don't usually have problem making friends, I was in a bad spot at the time.
>"But there was one pony that reached out to me, and helped me start being myself again; Pinkie Pie.
>"If it wasn't for her, I would have had a much harder time getting my start here."
>She turns to you
>Once again, you're drawn into those blue eyes that almost seem to glow
>"Anon, I want you to know that if there's anything you need, even if it's only somepony to talk to, I'm here for you.
>"It's the least I can do."
>You catch your breath once more, the intake shuddering as you suppress feelings you don't want to face
"Ok,"
>you respond, a somber gratitude conveyed in your half-smile, half-grimace
>Something in her recognizes that look, and she pulls you into an impromptu hug
>You were as unprepared as she was, and unable to stop yourself from returning the tight embrace
>After a raw moment, she remembers what she's there for, and breaks the hug
>"Oh no, I'm so sorry. I guess I just... just felt you need it," she stutters, trying to name an acceptable intention for her kindness
"Don't be sorry,"
>you assure her,
"I did need it."
>She breathes a sigh of relief, her unprofessional outburst vanished
>She walks you out, her ever-cheerful expression telling you that you were going to be okay
>And for once in your life, you actually believed it

>Nevertheless, you remained cloistered up in your room in the castle for a week afterward
>You couldn’t explain why if you were asked
>You knew that there were potential friends out there, definitely one that would be willing to hang out
>You wanted to hang out, to go out and just talk to them
>Talk to Minuette
>But something kept stopping you
>It was like some gravity centered onto your room, some force making you unable to leave any more than you could leave the earth without falling back
>There were times that you had to pull yourself away from the window
>What would it look like if you were to be seen gazing longingly at the world you couldn’t bring yourself to enter?
>And so there you were: in your room as usual
>Each day burnt up in a rotten malaise, a waste of the time you considered so precious, but not enough to move
>It could have gone on forever, if not for Twilight’s trip
>She had left the house, as she had usually done
>She’d mentioned some sort of friendship problem, and was off for who knows how long
>These trips never meant too much: you missed out on the daily check-in that Twilight had kindly kept up all these weeks
>But that wasn’t so bad
>You felt isolated for most of the day, and now you felt isolated the whole day
>You had forgotten about it until you heard a faint ringing of the doorbell
>You’d thought you imagined it
>After all, Twilight didn’t get a whole lot of visitors, and those she did just came right in
>It rang again
>Then it dawned on you
>You were the only one that could answer it
>A wave of fear and excitement swept over you, both sourced in the prospect of a social interaction
>You ran through the Crystal halls towards the source
>This one, then that
>Right, left, right, left, left, straight, left
>Wait
>Fuck
>You couldn’t remember where it was
>You were a third ring
“COMING!”
>Geez, it was probably some royal official princess important business
>The most important kind of business there is
>Twilight would be so pissed if you didn’t get it
>More and more halls tricked you and blocked your path
>But then, like a light at the end of the tunnel, the main room
>You speed across the room, leaping over Rarity’s throne, hoping you weren’t too late
>Panting and wheezing, you thrust open the door
>Be Minuette
>You had expected Anon to be back to the office after he’d left
>He was alone, in need
>Maybe you didn’t know him too well, but you felt like you had to do something
>So why not pay him a visit?
>After all, you were responsible for the health of his teeth, and you found it unlikely that he was taking care of them
> …Eating candy every day
>You shudder at the thought
>So here you were, at his home
>You rung twice, hesitantly
>When nobody came, you rung it once more
>If he didn’t come then, you’d go
>At least you’d have tried
> …Still nothing
>As you turn to leave, your hear a thumping move towards you
>The door behind you crashes open, and Anon appears in the entrance
>He looks like he’s trying to say hello
>Instead, he just wheezes a whole lot, and leans over, his hands on his knees
>He seems to be aware of his failure, and simply raises his hand in a wave
>You giggle at his efforts, and wave right back
“Hi Anon!”
>”Hey”
>You stand there smiling at him, forgetting why you were here in his flustered performance
>”You, uh, wanna come in?”
“Oh! Yes, sure!”
>You’ve always loved the parties Twilight threw here
>Or rather, that Pinkie threw in Twilight’s house
>Anyway, you had always wanted a tour of the place
>Hopefully, Anon would oblige
>Maybe if you used those feminine wiles of yours…
>Nope!
>You catch your wandering mind, and bring it back to the subject at hand: checking on Anon
>As you’re about to inquire, Anon speaks first
>”This place is basically a labyrinth.”
>He pauses
>”That’s why it took me so long to get down here, and why I was so tired.”
>Well, maybe he wasn’t as unhealthy as it seems
>you nod the affirmative, but he doesn't seem to see it
>"I'm actually a pretty /fit/ guy. Used to run marathons and stuff"
>pffft.png
“I don’t doubt it, Anon.
"This place is huge from the outside.”
>”Have you never been in here?”
“No, there’ve been a handful of parties here.
“Never went past the dining room, though.”
>At that, both of you take your seats in said room, where two chairs were already facing each other
>Anon grunts and nods at your comment
>”Well, can I get you anything? Tea? I think we have coffee somewhere…
“I’ll have some tea. Coffee is terrible on teeth!”
>He had been about to pick up a steaming cup on the table, then hesitates and pushes it away
>”Oh, y-y-yeah, that stuff’s the worst on teeth”
>You can’t help laughing again at his attempts to lie
“Anon, you can drink coffee if you want,”
> you hint to him
>”Well, of course. It’s just, I don’t really like it anyway…”
>This boy is worse than Applejack
>And it is hilarious
>He steps into the nearby kitchen
>A cabinet creaks open, followed by a loud clatter
>”AWFUG”
>You race into the kitchen, worrying for his safety
>There you see Anon hopping on one foot up and down
>A pile of pans cover part of the floor
>Anon lifts his middle finger towards the largest one as he cries out in pain
> …wonder what that means
“Anon, are you okay?”
>Anon spots you, and immediately stops jumping up and down, leaning back onto the counter
>”What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine”
>His attempts to play it cool are par for the course
“No, you’re not.
“Come over here.”
>He tries to stroll towards you nonchalantly, but you can see him practically limp
>You see a large red spot on his foot, with a slight purple tinge
>You lift his foot up, causing him to cringe and suck in his breath
“Oops, sorry!”
>”S’all good,” he gasps
“Here, grab me some gauze, and I’ll wrap this up for you. That should lessen then pain.”

>Poor Anon
>He’s really not having an easy time here
>He limps over to the cabinet and after some rustling, pulls out some gauze
>After taking a couple steps toward you, he grimaces
>His legs falter, and he teeters to the left
>shit!
>you run to the side of him, ready to catch him if he falls
>The leg with the hurt would contorts, and he falls to his knees, his arms flailing
>The left one falls on you, and he places his weight on that, able to stay somewhat upright
>He breathes heavily, and groans, another spurt of pain moving through his foot
>You glance worriedly at him
>This is all your fault
“Anon, I’m so sorry,”
> you cry, afraid of forcing him even further into whatever’s imprisoning him

>He chuckles briefly, and waves your concern away with his free hand
>”It’s no problem, just a little bruise.
>”Just help me over to the chair.”
>Moving slowly, he lifts himself to his feet, keeping the pressure off his injury by leaning heavily on you
>You move slowly, making sure to help him keep his balance
>After a lot of groans and one very close call, he collapses into the chair
>You take the gauze, which had fallen on the floor, and begin unspooling a decent amount
>Then you tear it off and begin wrapping it tightly around Anon’s injury
>A little tape from the same drawer keeps it closed, and you feel a little more worthy of the title of Doctor
>He breathes out deeply as you finish, then looks at you with mock sorrow:
>”Sorry I couldn’t make you that tea”
>Is he still concerned about that?
>It doesn’t look like it…
>Still, you don’t want to take the chance
“Anon, it’s fine. You don’t have to worry about that.”
>He chuckles and replies that he was joking;
>”But I can still make you some tea if you want it

>Well, now that you think about it, you do
”How about I make some? My mother had the greatest recipe for cinnamon tea, in the world!
“I can make some for you too,”
> you add, wanting him to experience it
>”Yeah, sure, that sounds fine.”
>He gives you a small smile, clearly not as excited as you are about it.
>But your tea rules, and Anon is gonna fall in love with it
> You run into the kitchen, clean up the mess of pots, and get to work

>Be Anon again
>As you see your pony guest run into the kitchen, you sigh deeply
>You tried keeping that spaghetti in your pockets, but that shit came out faster than modern liberals
>Seriously, Anon, get your shit together
>Can’t be embarrassing yourself when there’s cute ponies around
>I mean, not that she’s cute or anything
>Whatever!
>You’ll make up for it later

>”Almost ready!”
> comes the happy voice from inside your kitchen
“I’m excited!”
> you shout, not fully selling it
>Man, this shit was hard
>Even back home, with people of your own race and culture, you had the hardest time talking to them
>You never knew the reason, although you could certainly name some possibilities
>Arrogance, introvertedness, constantly being tired and unmotivated, having little success in those situations, being kinda ugly, and so forth
>There were a few people, mostly girls, that took pity on you or something, and would chat with you every once in a while
>Minuette kind of seems like those girls
>Happy, friendly, willing to overlook all that bad shit and look for the good parts of you
>You smile to yourself, feeling like you might actually have a friend in her
>As long as you don’t fuck it up

>She trots in her, almost bouncing in excitement
>Two floating cups follow her, almost spilling over
>That smile of hers just cheers you right up
>If she’s still excited to hang out with you after your breathless entrance and pan fiasco, maybe you can forget about all your worries
>Maybe
>They’re still there, loitering in the back of your mind
>But they aren’t front and center like they usually are
>That space is occupied by a pretty blue pony and a cup of steaming tea floating towards you on a sparkley blue cloud
>That kinda thing really draws the attention
>”Here!
>”You might want to blow on it a bit”
>You obey, taking occasional sips until it’s cool enough for you to drink
“Boy, that’s sweet!”
> you exclaim, not used to tea having strong taste of any kind
>”Sugar and magic,” comes the bright reply
>Magic?
“Magic?”
>”Yeah, a little warming spell to make you feel all warm and cozy on the inside!”
>Huh
>Well, if it works, you sure aren’t gonna argue

>You can feel your tension melt away, the pain in your foot now just a memory
>You’re looking at the pony in front of you now with the contendly, half-awake gaze that comes from being tired and comfy
>You notice how she closes her eyes when she drinks her tea, and the cute little crinkles that tell you she enjoys it
>You notice that little upturned sides of her lips as she drinks, a smile unable to be completely revoked
>You notice the way her head seems like move around as she speaks to you, tilting and turning and moving forward and backwards
>You don’t notice how your tired comfiness is coming mostly from her, not the tea
> She’s telling you about the dentistry business, and how her secretary is an old friend of hers
>They went to the same schools or something
>The content of her words are hard to focus on
>It’s only that melodious sound of her speech that enthralls you, more than any magic could
>That speedy tempo
>the rise and fall of her pitch as she explains something
>That light tinkle of her laughter, like the ringing of tiny silver bells
>You could listen to her forever, you think lazily, unaware of the implications

>”Anon,”
>The sound of her speaking your name is so sweet, you forget that she’s trying to get your attention
>”Anon?”
>”Anon!”
>Oh yeah!
“Sorry, Minuette. Kind of spaced out there.”
>”Oh, don’t be sorry,” her cheery voice consoles, “it can have that effect!
>”I just wanted to ask you how the brushing goes”
>Oh. That.
>you try to avoid the question
“Welll… you see…”
>Minuette narrows her eyes, seeing through your ruse before you even began
>”You haven’t been brushing, huh?”
“Well, if you look at it from a-“
>Minuette’s eyebrow cocks
“I suppose you could say that-“
>Her arms cross
“…
“No.”
>Surprisingly, her trademark smile returns to her face
>”That’s okay! To be honest, I didn’t really expect you to.
>”It takes a while for people to get into the habit,” she explains,
>”I just wanted to see if you’d be honest with me.
>”Thanks for that, by the way.”
“I tried to avoid it though.”
>”Yeah, but you’re a bad enough liar that it basically counts as truth,” comes her chuckling retort

>”There was something I wanted to know though.”
“What is it?
>”Well…”
>She grinds her hoof into the ground, looking slightly uncomfortable
>Then she nods her head, looking at you resolutely
>”Why haven’t you come to see me?”
>Oh boy
>Man, where to begin
>What could I even tell her?
>You look at your feet, not sure of how to answer
>You glance at her
>A concerned, almost hurt expression is spread across her face
“Um…”
>She senses your very clear discomfort, and tries to help you out
>”Anon, you don’t have to answer me. I get the feeling this is a personal question, and I don’t want you to think I’m forcing you to answer.”
>”But you looked miserable, and alone.
>”There was a pony like that I used to know: she just kept pushing people away, and I let her cloister herself up completely.”
>”It took the princess of magic herself to help her; but I always thought that if I paid a little more attention, and reached out just a little more, a huge mess could have been avoided.”
>She takes your hand, previously resting on the table, into her hooves
>”Stop me if I’m coming on too strong – I have been known for that, on occasion – but I don’t want the same thing to happen to you or anybody else
>You felt like your heart had stopped
>She-
>She really cared about you

“Minuette, I-“
>You don’t know what to say
“I don’t know what to say.”
>She looks down, clearly embarrassed
>”I’m sorry Anon, I guess I just got kind of caught up-“
“No, it’s not like that
“Ok, first, I want to thank you. Telling me that means a lot to me.
“But I’m not actually sure what the problem is.”
>She looks up questioningly
“It’s sort of complicated, and I don’t know if I could actually explain everything.
>Her quiet smile lends itself to the most tender look you’ve ever seen
>Somehow, you feel like it’s given you the strength to keep going
>Even so…
“Minuette, I don’t want to bother you with all this
>”Anon, I wouldn’t have butted in and asked you about it if I didn’t want to be bothered
>”I want to help you, Anon. Let me be here for you.”

>A warm smile accompanies her words, giving them a gentleness and compassion of a wholly different variety than her usual upbeat attitude granted
>You lift your empty hand to her hooves, joining the other, and grasp them gently
“Ok.”
>And so you talk
>You tell her of your struggles back in your own world
>Your lack of social skill, lack of confidence, inability to read people and respond correctly
>Your despair at so many years of continual failure, resulting in you just giving up
>All the while Minuette hold your hands, only failing when her hoof is raised to wipe away the tears.
>When you finish, she looks up at you with tears in her own eyes
>”Thank you, Anon.”
>Then she slowly picks herself up off the chair, and walks over to you
>She stands up on her hind legs, then wraps you in her upper hooves in a tight hug
>”I care about you, Anon.
>”You don’t have to be alone anymore. I don’t know what went on in your world, but I can tell you the person I see in front of me is funny and kind, and I for one, would love to be friends with him.
>”And I’m not the only one.
>”If you’re up for it, I know at least a dozen ponies who would love to be your friend. But they can’t be if you shut yourself away like this.
>”Talk to me. Talk to them. Come out of your house, and I’ll show you.”
>She pulls back a little, and looks directly into your eyes
>”Come see me tomorrow.”
>You sniffle, and stare back into those beautiful blue eyes
“Ok.”
>”I’m gonna need a promise, Anon.”
>you laugh a little through your shaky, emotional voice:
“I promise, Minuette."

>Minuette has invited you over
>You knock on her door
>The muffled sound of hooves hastily approaching can be heard through the door
>It creaks open
>"Hey Anon, there you are!"
"Hey Minue-"
>"Oh wow, I could've sworn you were at least a head shorter", she giggles, "how are you doing today, big guy?"
"I'm good, I'm good. You?"
>"Oh I'm great, it's so exciting to have you drop by my place, but don't just stand there, come inside! Watch your head though!"
>She didn't really have to warn you
>You've bumped your head in the low doorframes of pony houses enough times grow a habit to dodge when entering houses
>But you appreciate the concern
>"Would you like something? Coffee? Tea? Maybe a snack? Oo, you know what, I picked up some fresh pineapple this morning, would you like a piece?"
"Pinapple sounds good."
>"Alrightie, just take a seat in the living room and I'll be right out with some slices!"

>So far so good
> You don't want to mention it, but it's been a really long time since you've been invited over to anybody's house
>Especially a qt
>Not that you thought a pony was cute or anything
>It was like a baby, or a dog sort of thing
>...you know, how they can be cute and stuff?
>You're floundering in your inner debate when Minuette comes to save you
>She bursts into the room, her radiant smile bringing you to life
>Coming here, you as terrified as your muted emotions allowed you to be
>Speaking to her didn't help as much as you'd like
>Just the normal fumbling for words that could be expected from you
>Bouncing over to you, she holds up the pineapple slices with the eagerness of a child showing his mother his first mud pie
>The gift, however, is much more favorable
>You pop a few into your mouth, and sit up straight, the sudden burst of flavor completely unexpected
>After a month of mostly noodles, your taste buds had forgotten tanginess and sweetness
"Wow, these are really good!"
>"Awww, do you really think so?
>"As a matter of fact, I grew them myself!"

>No kidding
"No kidding!"
>You’re taken by surprise: she doesn’t seem much like a farmer
“That’s really cool, Minuette.”
>”Well, I do my best!
>”It’s nice to have some compliments on it though. Ones that aren’t coming from myself.”
>The both of you chuckle at that
“You know, my family used to have a garden,”
> you tell her, before frowning at that sinking feeling in your stomach
>She notices your pained expression, and tries to change the subject
>”So what do you think of the place?”
> she asks, a little too eagerly’
“What?”
>”I just got the place a month ago. I finished unpacking yesterday,”
> she gives a small laugh at her procrastination
>”You know how it is, moving. Always takes so long!”
>Her infectious smile calls for a mirror, and you can’t help but answer it in kind
>Before you know it, you’ve been pulled out of the pit you could have spent days in

>You look around the room with a curator’s eye
>There’s a lot of blue, you’ll give her that.
>You’re sitting on a light blue sofa, with two matching chairs by either side of it, and a clear glass table in the center.
>The material is a soft fabric, and the cushioning is all sorts of cushy
>Jutting out from underneath the table is a thick, dark blue rug, with concentric orange circles spreading from the middle to the outer lining
>There’s a fireplace on the side opposite to the couch, a good ten feet away, with two wicker chairs in front of it
>There’s an esteemed looking family in a portrait, dressed in fancy attire and frowns…
>Except for the blue and grey mare in the back
>…huh
>You’ll have to ask about that later
>On the wall adjacent, there’s a large, beautiful picture of a ship sailing on a calm ocean
>Beyond you, there’s another picture of a lush forest, with yellow-leafed trees, and pink and lime shrubbery covering the ground, a pale blue sky behind it and a light brown path moving to places unknown
> On the final wall is a small picture of a pony in a deep sea diver’s helmet, a ponytail jutting out the back
>There’s a small yellow bird in your hand, and a pale pink heart painting above her head on an indistinguishable background
>Beside this final, mesmerizing picture is the white door you had entered through, with orange divets

>You turn to her, and simple state
“It’s beautiful.”
>She keeps looking at you, her expression unchanging
>Her eyes are doing that thing where they seem to be burrowing into yours, searching the depths for…
>For what?
>A better description?
“Uh…”
>You take another look around the room, trying to tie the words learned in your English classes with the feelings you got from the room
“I like the simplicity of it; everything here seems carefully chosen, and with very good taste.
“The blues match the oranges perfectly, and the whole thing matches you.
“It gives off an elegant feel, like you’re trying to display treasures, rather than throw a bunch of pricey looking doodads in my face, like how a lot of houses are.
“This artwork is phenomenal, and I’ll have to ask you where you got that picture of the diving pony and the bird.
“Overall, it’s an incredible home, looking, somehow, classy and comfy at the same time. It’s a beautiful home, Minuette.”

>Her bright eyes open just a little bit wider as she hears your words
>”Anon, that was…
>”Thank you…”
>Her voice trails off, her eyes looking away from you
>She takes a breath and sighs, her shoulders relaxing
>A self-indulgent smile crosses her face, the look of a girl holding her first love letter after the seventeenth read, right before she falls asleep
>After a moment, she sits up straight, eyes wide, and reassumes her role as a chatty hostess
>She begins to explain the origins of each piece of décor and the decision behind it
>You’re not the biggest furniture guy, but you’re drawn into the melodious sounds of her voice
>You dawn an expression not unlike the one you were just treated to as you imbibe the music of her speech
>As she comes to the family portrait, she passes over it with a brief
>”This is my family. They had some money, and helped me start out with my career. This was painted when I was seven.”
>Her voice had turned monotone compared to the buoyant notes of the previous descriptions, as well as being significantly faster, as if she didn’t want to speak of it.
> You guess it’s not a happy subject for her, and make a note to avoid it in the future.

>After noting the painting, she notes the rest of the furniture as she did before
>Well, perhaps it was a bit more slow, but you might have imagined it
>Finishing up, she smiles sweetly at you, glad to have a pleased listener
>”Thanks for listening. I’m always glad to have a listener.
>”Not everyone is as interested and attentive as you, you know.”
>You chuckle, so caught up in the moment that you reply without thinking
“Not everyone is as interested in you as I am.”
>Your eyes widen in horror at the same time that her cheeks turn a furious red
>Your head bows down and you look away, your hand anxiously grabbing your forehead
>You hear her softly squeak
>”Oh!”
>You dare to look up, your worried eyes scanning every detail of her
>Looking for the a trace of scorn
>Instead, you see her looking shyly at the floor, her hoof covering her mouth
>You’re definitely imagining the slight curve of a smile coming from under the hoof

>…
>Neither of you say anything for a minute
>You elect to break the awkward silence
>Not like it was that big of a deal or anything, right?
“So I…”
>”What do you?”
>Both sentences collide in the air, stopping once the other is heard
>”You go first”
“No, you”
>She looks concerned, then starts
>”What did you…”
>She trails off and her eyes look away, seemingly lost in thought
>Her eyes return from looking off into the mid-distance, with a more chipper tone
>”What did you want to do?”
>She asks, almost stuttering, clearly having said something besides her original intention
>You express your confusion at the sudden change of subject
“Huh?”

>”Well, I was thinking we could do one of three things.”
>Her voice is gaining steadiness, the awkwardness being pushed aside as she returns to a more comfortable, rehearsed conversation
>She’s looking at you directly, as if the past few minutes didn’t happen
>”We could go to the movies -Maid in Manehatten just came out and it looks AMAZING,
>”, or we could play some cards with some friends of mine,
>”or…”
>She trails off, remembering the third option
>Her blush returns slightly, and she almost whispers
>”or we could watch the sunset…”
>"theres... um... a great view from the hill outside of town..."
>" I packe-, a pi---"
>By now her voice is so quiet you can barely hear a word she's saying
"A what?"
>Her blush grows, and she looks away, her hoof pointing to something near her chair
>It's a picnic basket
>She wants to have a picnic with you
>Or wanted
>Can’t say for sure, now that you just dumped a plateload of high-end pasta all over the floor

>She looks slightly downcast at your choice
>That is to say, she falters slightly when she grins at your response
>It's a fleeting moment, and even though you do notice it, you let it go
>Talking to girls always left you a little confused
>Especially girls that you were interested in
>!
>Interested in as people!
>or ponies! Just that!
>Anyway, you don't place a lot of faith in your ability to read the signals of peppy girls like her
>There's still that bit of concern stalling in your gut
>Now's not the time to be thinking thoughts like that about your only friend, cute or not
>Meanwhile, Minuette has been vacillating between looking lost in thought and bubbling over in excitement and planning
>"So... game night, eh?"
>"Ooh!"
>"We'll have to have Lyra there -if you get along with me, you're gonna love her!"
>Wait, did she just wink at you?
>"And Lemonheart! Oh, she tells the best stories!"
>"Let's see, who else..."
>She brightens up at the final possibility

>”Moondancer!”
>”She’s the pony I was talking to you about, Anon,”
>The typical jubilant expression she wears is replaced by a softer one, not unwelcome at all
>”So if you feel awkward or don’t know what to say, there’s at least one thing you have in common”
>You return her sweet smile, appreciating the thought
>She really is a good host, you think
>”Alrighty then! I’ll call them up in just a minute.”
>There’s just one more, very important subject to deal with.”
>At this, her eyes narrow and a grim visage meets your eye
>The serious, col blue eyes throw you off a bit, and your heart drops into your stomach
>Slowly, she asks you
>”Anon…
>”What card games do you play?”
>She laughs out loud at the confusion on your face, while your swelling horror wanes
>Phew.png

“…Um
…Let me see…”
>You rack your brain and furrow your brain, diving deep into your memories
>It’d been years since your last game night
>There was… hmmm…
“Gin Rummy, Cribbage, and Resistance.”
>”I see!,”
>she offers cheerily
>”What are those?”
“Well the first two are for two or three players, and you need a special board for Cribbage,”
> you remember, slightly grimacing at your mistake
”But resistance can have five or six players!”
>”Her eyes brighten up, excited for a new game from you
“You make three or four people -depending on whether it’s five or six total members, respectively- members of the resistance, who want to carry out missions
“Two people are spies, who want to fail missions.”
“There are five missions, which need different amounts of people to bring them about: it goes 2, 3, 2/4, 3, 3/4, depending on whether its five or six people. You vote for the people to go on missions.
“The rebels need to fail three out of the five missions to succeed, and the rebels try to figure out who the spies are and keep them off missions!”
>She nods, attentive to you
>Then she sits upright, twinkling her perfect teeth at you
>”Sounds perfect!”

>”Let me go make some calls!”
>With that, she happily trots over to the next room
>You hear the sound of a phone-
>Wait, they have those?
>-And her shining voice, unintelligible but sweet nonetheless, as she begins making the plans
>You fall back on the sofa, feeling successful
>Someone was excited to try something you’d brought to the table
>Someone wonderful…
>You close your eyes, basking in the warm feeling, whose source you didn’t aim to investigate
>You were in a beautiful home, with a beautiful friend that was excited you were here
>Your worries seemed to fade into the background
>Once you’d been chastised for ignoring the world around you
>They’d told you to pay attention, that you were missing out on all the things in front of you
>You responded that there wasn’t shit in front of you, and the things that were there were fit only to be escaped from
>You felt a bit of nostalgic pity for that boy of the past
>It wasn’t that way anymore, you thought, grinning without realizing it
>For once, you were somewhere you didn’t want to leave
>A low rumble builds up in your stomach, and you shudder with quiet laughter
>Things were good
>And to accent this moment, the bluest, most wonderful pony came back in
>Her glistening smile managed to perk up even higher when she noticed your relaxed posture and the lazy, warm look you were sending her way

>She had entered hesitantly, but once she saw your smile, she seemed to gain her stride
>She walks up to you, her eyes flickering away and back, then staying firmly on you
>”So Anon…
>”They can all make it. Lemonheart said she’ll try to bring someone along if she can, but that’s a big if.”
> At this point, she gulps and looks at her feet, but bounces right back to you with her usual candor
>”It’s still a bit early in the day, and some of them still have some work, so I scheduled it for two hours from now.”
>Seems fair; sun’s still gonna be in the sky for a couple hours anyway
>”So I was thinking…
>She gazes deeply into your eyes, a question in her own
>”How about we walk up that hill?
>”It’s not too far, and it’s a really great view! And we can pick up Lyra on the way back!
> she adds quickly, seeming eager for an assent
>Not that she had to sell it at all
>Your smile encourages her further
>”We might even be able to check out the sunset, as long as we hurry back.”
>A hopeful stare now before you, you can’t not accept
“Absolutely! That sounds like a lot of fun!”

>Strolling around with the best friend you’ve had in a long time?
>Seeing the sunset?
>Coming back to a gamenight with people that will probably welcome you?
“Heck yes!”
>She looks up at you inquisitively, before snickering into her hoof
>Yeah, you said that out loud
“What? I was excited.”
>Playing it cool never really worked for you, but it seemed like the best thing to do
>Unfortunately it just made her laugh louder
>Well, it was pretty cute so…
>You still kind of came out ahead
>”Well, that settles it!
>”Off we go!”
>She punctuates her sentence with that infectious laugh of hers, which then spills over to you
>It starts out as a small giggle
>Then you throw your head back, peals of laughter erupting from your throat
>You don’t even know what you’re laughing at, but she’s laughing, and you just can’t help but be drawn in
>You catch her losing her tempo
>She keeps stopping to look at you and laughing harder when you saw her
> It was almost in the form of someone peeking at you and looking away when you noticed her

>She magics the picnic basket onto her back, and nods at you
>And you’re off!
>The two of you head out the door, the evening sun casting a maroon glimmer over Ponyville
>The town seems to glow in the pleasant hue, a quiet kind of magic to put you at ease
>It’s alien still, and you’re not sure you’ll ever fully belong to it
>But you feel a little more at home
>The phrase “my home” seems a little less absurd
“Thanks,”
> you contentedly muse, once more without thought
>”For what?”
> she answers, her interest query shocking you by calling attention to your careless words
>Her eyes focuses on you once more, and head tilted ever so slightly
>Fully interested in what you said
>Fully interested in you, it seemed
>Not in the romantic way, but just a person wanting to know another
> your realization at this almost makes you slip out another grateful thanks, but this time you catch yourself
>Uh…
“For all this,”
>you wave your arm around, hoping the she’ll pick up something in your vague response
>”For the town?”
> she giggles, teasingly refusing your implicit plea to not explain
>”I’m afraid I’m not responsible for that, Anon. Unless you mean my house
>”In which case you’re very welcome!”

“No, not that!
“I mean…
“Just, uh…
>She looks at you expectantly, the every present curves of the ends of her lips bringing you some comfort
“You know…”
>The curves widen as her amusement at your awkwardness grows
>You look down, and say, more somberly than you intend to,
“Everything.”
>She nods, acknowledging your meaning, and stops
>She places a hoof on your shoulder, and again you’re greeting with those brilliant blue eyes
>“You’re welcome,” she says in complete sincerity, her crystalline eyes capturing your entire focus
>You gulp, and smile at her
>You’ll never stop being thankful, you think
>This could have been so awkward, so needlessly heavy’
>But she answered your need for meaningful connection over lighthearted enjoyment
>She met you with sincerity
>And afterwards, before the somber situation become stale and uncomfortable, her musical laughter bringing you back to that free-spirited enjoyment
>You’d been around preppy girls, even been friends with a couple
>But they’d either been faking their cheeriness, or having nothing deeper than such
>This girl
>er, mare
>This mare managed to capture both depth and light-heartedness

>She made you feel like a kid again
>You find yourself swelling with joy as you pass the thatch-roof houses filled with happy ponies
>The brown dirt road welcomed your footsteps as the hill in front of you grew
>Already shadows were beginning to grow, ever so slightly, as they reached out towards your destination
>The silhouettes of you and your friend walk before you, but remain faint
>You glance over at your jubilant partner, and strike down the thought of asking to ride on her
>You find you’re pushing away more than a few thoughts about her
>But that didn’t matter now
>Only the present was important
>She was laughing again as she passed the house, informing you of the ponies within and all the wacky happenings with them
>There was Pinky Pie, who had once made huge tooth-shaped balloons for her birthday
>There was Filthy Rich, who’d eagerly consulted her about a golden grill his daughter had been thinking of
>There was Lyra, who’d been her friend since ages ago
>Gee, this mare knew a lot of ponies
“Gee, you sure do know a lot of ponies, don’t you?”
>”Well, of course I do, silly!
>”I’m their dentist!”
>Oh yeah

>”So, if you don’t mind me asking, Anon,
>”what did you do back where you came from?”
>This time, when the thoughts of home returned, only minor pangs arose in you
>You didn’t notice until later, but you hadn’t even been aware of the hurt at the time
>You were more interested in her straightforwardness
>Had she noticed you coming out of your shell?
>Was she just getting more comfortable with you?
“I was just a cashier at a little drugstore.
“Sold people snacks, medicine, bathroom stuff, you name it.”
>”That sounds like fun,”
> she says, somehow sincere
>You scowl slightly, remembering how your discomfort there
“It was alright, I guess.
“Wasn’t what I actually wanted to be.
>”Oh? And what did you want to be?”
>You hesitate to tell her
>It was always a little bit embarrassing when you told other about it
>But this was Minuette, you remind yourself
>You can trust her
>You can trust her
“I wanted to be a,
“uh

“A geologist.”
>”She looks at you quizzically
>”You mean you wanted to study rocks?”
“Uh… yeah-“
>”That’s so cool!”
>You’re used to her exuberance, but it surprised you this time
>She staring up at you, genuinely excited
>”Geology is awesome!”
>That was new
“You really think so?”
>”I sure do!”
>”You know pinkie pie?”
“Yeah, we’ve met a few times.
“She threw me like three parties.”
>”Well, me and her are good friends, and we hang out ALL THE TIME”

>”She used to be a rock farmer!
>”I’m pretty sure her dad’s a geologist. I’ve only spoken to him a couple times.”
“So you think he’s a geologist?”
>”I would imagine! You should talk to him sometime!”
>She turns away, beginning to form plans for another meeting
>Then, back to you, remembering the conversation half finished
>”So, did you actually get the chance to do that?”
“Not really. I was still in school for that.
>She nods, far more engaged in your explanation than any of your family had been
“I was 3 years into a four year degree at my university.
“After that, I was set up for an internship, which is like a job without pay.”
>”Well, why would you do that?”
“To get experience in the field. After that, I’d have a much better chance of getting a job in the field.
“But to be honest, I hadn’t thought too far past the internship.”
>”That’s really cool, Anon
>”You know, they have universities here too. I bet you could finish up your degree here!”
>Your pace slows
>You hadn’t thought about finishing in Equestria what you’d started back there.

“Wow…
>You’re feeling kind of awed, faced with the possibility
>Just like back home, you hadn’t planned too far ahead
>You didn’t think you’d make it here
>What if you could?
>Minuette, ever excited, keeps up her suggestions
>”I bet you could get a scholarship or two for being an alien!
>”And I’m sure you could get a job, what with Pinkie’s contacts and all!”
>She turns to you, her angelic smile capturing your heart once again
>”Anon, do you still want to be a geologist?”
> she asks eagerly, wanting to make sure she wasn’t getting ahead
>You think about it for a minute
> and break out in a huge smile
“Yes. Yeah, I do!”
>”Well that’s just great!”

>The two of you keep up your talk as the hill passes unnoticed beneath you
>Minuette seems eager to get you started on your career path
>You only half listen to her
>You’re interested in your future here, of course, and you try to keep track of all the steps to take
>But the bright, cheery voice of hers draws you in, nonetheless
>You’re so caught up in the melodies, at times smooth and other times staccato
>Each note seems to have a magic of its own, somehow satisfying something deep within you
> and at the same time, making you yearn for the next word, waiting eagerly to hear it
>And although the notes vary wildly as new thoughts and ideas come into her head and burst forth the next moment from her soft blue lips,
> they’re all united in their message
>Kindness
>Interest
>Goodwill
>Every word is for you, for your benefit, to help you up
>But she isn’t even doing this out of some condescending charity
>Though almost every word is a hand extended, there’s no condescension at all, no haughtiness or joy in having an out-of-luck person to give a favorable juxtaposition
>It’s just kindness, simple as that

>You start wishing you were better off
>You want to succeed, to excel in the world
>If only to make her proud
>To make her feel as if her efforts succeeded and her care was rewarded
>By this, time, you’re smiling lazily at her, soaking up the pure compassion bursting forth from this happy, energetic pony
>Gosh, you love this, you think to yourself
>”Yowza!”
>Her expression of surprise draws your curiosity, first to her and then to the surroundings
>You’d made it to the top of the hill
>“We made it to the top of the hill!”
“We sure did,”
> you give her a taste of her own brand of smiles
>Bright, stretching from cheek to cheek, eyes almost closed
>She giggles a bit and smiles back at you before pointing over to a nearby tree
>”Let’s go over there!”
>An idea comes into your head, and you jump on it
“Race you there!”
>And you take off
>You hear her laugh, first distant, then closing in
>Oh yeah
>She zooms by you, stopping right before she touches the tree

>Her left hoof is raised, extending out to the tree
>Then it stops, floating there
>No more than a few inches from the tree
>You’re a little too busy sprinting your out-of-shape butt off to notice this
>You think something’s off as you see her stand rigid, looking back at you with a mischievous grin
>Too late to stop though
>You hand slams the tree trunk, shortly followed by her
>Ow.png
>Your face contorts as you hold your hand
>Her grin fades into concern
>”Anon, are you okay?”
>You’re fine
“I’m fine,”
> you assure her, not wanting the dynamic between the two of you to be solely defined by concern and worry from her to you
>You shake out your hand
>-You don’t know if that helps, but you’ve done it for as long as you can remember-
> Then you turn to her, your head cocked to the side, and ask
“Why’d you stop?”

>”Well…”
>She looks off to the side, her hoof rubbing the back off her head
>Looks like it’s her turn to be avoiding questions
>Unlike the times before, you have no idea what she’s hiding
“Come on, what is it?”
>”It’s nothing.”
>…
“Minu-“
>”Come on, let’s get out the snacks,”
> she interrupts you, not looking you in the eye
>She trots back to where you had started the race
>The picnic basket had been dropped when she sprinted past you
>Your question was still on your mind
>It didn’t seem like such a big deal, but why was she avoiding it?
>By the time she’s come back, you can’t think of a single reason
>Besides the classic panacea for all confusing girl-problems
[spoiler] Girls are weird. [/spoiler]
>”Come on, Anon!
>”Get some of this grub!”
>Come to think of it, you are pretty hungry

>She sits down at your feet, and looks up at you with those big blue eyes
>You were gonna get down, but those eyes distract you
>You find yourself rigid, stuck halfway sitting down, as your mind is reduced to a single function:
>Looking at those eyes
>”Well, come on, silly!
>”Unless you wanna eat all hunched over like that!”
>She turns her head, placing her hoof on her chin and assumes a thoughtful countenance
>”Is that how humans eat? I’ve only seen you drink tea…”
“Why no, not quite,”
> you say with a straight face, taking advantage of her ignorance of the human race
“We’re only supposed to have one leg on the ground>”
>With that, you lift your right leg up beyond you, and try to lean it on the tree
>Then you bring your arms behind your back, and lean down a little lower, looking somewhat like a tipsy ostrich
>After a good thirty seconds of gaining your balance, you look and her and politely smile
“Alright, I’m ready to go.”
>The whole time she’s been looking at you with a very clear what-on-earth-is-this expression
>”I, uh, see.”
>She turns, confusedly, from the food to you,
> trying to figure out how the food got to you
>After watching her confusion, you finally lose it, falling to the ground laughing

“No, we don’t eat like that!”
> you manage to say through your convulsions of your laughter
>You sit back up, your sides still shaking with suppressed giggles
>Minuette’s just sitting there, the most adorable pout on her face
>A small smirk emerges from her soft blue lips
>”Oh, by all means, laugh at me, Anon.
>”But remember who brought the food here.”
>The smirk erupts into a devilish grin
>”And maybe I’ll only let you have some if you stand like that.”
>Your sense of humor is trumped by your love of food, and you shut up
>”No more laughter, huh?”
> she teases you back, poking your side
“No ma’am, no laughing here.”
> you say with a blank face
>After a moment, she lets out her perfect little laugh
>”Relax, Anon! I was only kidding,”
> she assures you, ending with another peal of laughter
>Yeah, you thought so
>But you didn’t want to endanger your chance at food

>She levitates the picnic blanket out, and the two of you sit happily under the big old tree
>The sun’s dropping faster now, the sky turning dark
>Except for that tiny semi-circle surrounding the sun, now beginning to dip beneath the mountains
>Your hands find themselves holding a juicebox and a couple of cookies, the cloud of magic that ferried them dissipating
>Your turn to thank your friend, and gasp
>The lighting had dimmed, but you hadn’t noticed it
>She had been emitting a soft light from her horn, crowning her face in low blue light that mixed with the dark maroon tint of your spot
>The result was a vague purple hue, making the blue of her eyes and hair appear a deeper shade, and the gray portion a medium blue-ish purple
>But it was the radiance that really caught you here
>The light seemed to emanate not only from her horn, but her whole coat
>She was radiant
>She looks at you and gives you a bright smile
>She explains the spell she was using as the two of you munch on your snacks
>Something she learned a long time ago from Twilight
>Then she goes into a story about the two of them when they were fillies
>You lose focus as you feel the cold of the coming night start to set in

>You thought it was just you, but you see her shiver too
>Maybe you should-
>Nah, that’d be too intimate
>She shivers again
>Is this gonna be you?
>Always afraid to get close, to take risks?
>You’re cold, she’s cold
>This whole time she’s been taking the lead: inviting you places, asking about you, listening to the stories that you knew were mediocre
>You’d just been passive, or did little more than accept
>Well, you’d had enough of that
>You scoot over to her, your side pressed up against hers
>She stops in mid-sentence, looking up at you
>She smiles sweetly, leans in a bit, and continues talking
>You listen to her story, keeping eye contact and nodding
>Truth be told, it is hard to listen over the sound of you being such a courageous hero
>It was even awkward either
>Just two friends, keeping warm
>She breaks your reverie with a sudden cry
>”Look!”

>The sky had begun to explode in color now.
>What was previously yellow, orange and red is now a host of colors
>Purple, blue, grey had made their entrance, swirling about like a grand kaleidoscope
>”Woooow”
“Woooow,”
> you both exclaim in unison at the dancing lights in the sky above
>Earth never had such a great view
>You don’t notice her snuggle up closer to you,
> just the new lack of chills
>Silently, you and Minuette take in the perfect sky above you,
> a silent light show, with a picnic blanket wrapped around two bodies lightly touching
>As soon as it had begun, the lights were swept from the sky, and an barely visible indigo hue captured the sky
>You turn to Minuette, and she turns to you
>You smile at her, the action quickly becoming the norm for seeing her face
>Strangely, she doesn’t return it
>Inches away from you, you had make out the red shades on her cheek
>She breathes in deep, her eyes wide and staring directly into yours
>Her next few breathes come heavily before she fakes a chuckle, and sits up, imperceptibly backing away
>”Well, we better head over to Lyra’s place”

>A sense of loss hits you in the stomach, its source unclear
>Something was missed there, you can’t help thinking
>But as had happened too much today, you hadn’t the first inkling of what it was
>But you’re having a good time, and there’s reason to believe it’ll continue
>The walk down the hill is mostly silent
>You’re in that special place where you don’t need words
>The day had passed pleasantly, and the night promised more of the same
>Right now you were just an observer of your own life
>Your stroll is quick and easy, the former to reach Lyra’s house without being late
>You just can’t get over how well the day is going
>Months of lounging about, feeling that agonizing crawl as the days disappeared into the calender
>Terrified of wasting time, terrified of living
>And with two visits and the better part of a day, you were better
>Not complete
>The terrors would probably return, you think grimly

>But you had a foothold in the world
>A beach-head, as your old pastor would have said
>And from there, you would move forward, you promised yourself
>You were going to be ok
>And with a smile at the future, you returned to the present
>The second half of the most beautiful day, with the most beautiful mare
>er
>Hmm
>You grumble and force the compliment out of your head
>The longer you spent time around her, the more easily you slipped into thinking things like that
>You’d take risks, as you had decided to do when you saw her shivering
>But this wasn’t one to consider lightly, or just fall into
>Pretty as it sounds, you weren’t going to let your heart lead the way

>In your isolation, that path had led to a lot of crushes on any somewhat-cute girl that had been nice to you
>If you were to feel that way towards Minuette…
>You weren’t sure what you would do then
>But you’d have to make sure that the feeling was genuine
>After all,
> and you were sure of this,
> you cared deeply about Minuette
>And she deserved nothing but the best
>You weren’t going to risk your friendship and her feelings if what you had wasn’t completely genuine
>You looked down at the mare, slightly obscured in the cool night
>A smile graced your lips, rejecting their natural state
>This was going to be a good night

>This is going to be a terrible night!
>You are Minuette, and you are freaking out
>What on earth are you doing
>First you made that dumb picnic plan
>Then you pushed him into it even though he only wanted a game night
>Then, that whole shebang with the race
>Afterwards, you cuddled up to him
>Even nuzzling him! Geez!
>And then the hug
>Oh my Celestia, when he turned to you and smiled, so close to your face…
>Girl, what on earth are you doing??
>You were going to ruin this night for Anon if you didn’t keep your act together
>Geez, you didn’t even know why those awkward moment s kept happening
>You weren’t an awkward person!
>You aren’t!
>You’re the one that keeps conversations and friendships going even when weirdness bears its ugly head!
>My Celestia, what is happening to you!

>You don’t answer the question
>Honestly, you just wanted to give Anon a boost today, and have a little fun
>You have the best friends a mare could ask for, and just about any time you were together was fantastic
>Anon was looking more and more like he was gonna become one of them
>Not just a friend, but a close friend
>He was funny, smart, and actually kind of nice to be around when his troubles weren’t consuming him
>And you think he was really getting better
>He seemed a lot more open and upbeat than he did when you had first met him
>You couldn’t help but give yourself some credit for this
>You find yourself smiling at the thought
>He was so clearly tortured when he had appearing, sitting in a chair in the waiting room
>You’d been intent on helping him, giving him the opportunities to succeed in a strange world

>You hadn’t thought he’d be so fun to be around, if you’re being honest
>But you were getting looser, more at ease around him
>You tried to be professional around people you weren’t close to
>You’d learned that a familiar tone wasn’t always what helped people, and so you’d reserve it
>But Anon just kept bringing it out in you
>He felt like an old friend, despite your brief periods of time together
>It seemed harmless at first
>He definitely enjoyed being around you when you were being your jolly self
>But now you were slipping up, saying things that didn’t make sense
>Things that might be taken the wrong way
>You’d have to try to keep yourself from doing any of that at the party tonight
>You sure hoped Lyra didn’t bring any of that apple cider…
>Your cheeks flush as you remember the last time you’d had access to that
>Cranky’s wedding
>Let’s just say there were more than a few stallions with red kiss marks by the end of that
>You walk on in silence, your mind filled with worried thoughts impeding your natural cheer

>At last, Lyra’s house came into view
>The two of you stepped down the walkway
>The door at the end popped open right as Anon raised his hand to knock
>There was Lyra, toting a large wooden cask behind her
>AllofmyUhohs.png
>”My, aren’t the two of you looking sweet together!”
> Lyra says with an impish grin
>Practically the only one she has
>Both of your cheeks turn bright red, and you turn away from each other nervously
>Lyra’s shipping eyes don’t miss a bit
>”Ooh, did I touch on something?”
>She saunters up to Anon with a seamless casualness, though they hadn’t spoken before, as far as you knew
>”Anon, buddy, you know you can tell me anything,”
>She places a busload of emphasis of “anything,” and smirks a bit

>Anon’s red cheeks, spotlighted by the light of Lyra’s house is too much for you
>You laugh, his embarrassment just way to funny
>Lyra keeps her flirtatious look at Anon up for a minute before joining you
>You’re about to explain, but Anon piles confusion on top of bashfulness
>The pure perplexion in his face sets you up for another round of laughter, while awareness slowly dawns on him
“Anon, don’t take this mare seriously,”
>you offer a comforting smile, not wanting to torture the poor dear for too long
“Nobody should be taking her too seriously!”
>Lyra pouts for a moment, then laughs
>”It’s true,”
> she admits, with a bit of self-deprecating humor
>The two of you exchange hugs, and you’re off to your home

>The whole way back Lyra is just pounding Anon with questions
>What did he do, what does he want to do, and so forth
>You already know the answers, you think happily to yourself
>You lead ahead in silence, letting Anon do the explaining
>He seems to be pretty comfortable talking to Lyra
>You pretend you don’t feel a pang of jealousy at the thought
>He’s making friends!
>That’s good!
>That’s what you wanted!
>You’ve mostly tuned out, planning out exactly the party’s gonna go, when a question from Lyra shocks you back to attention
>”So, Anon, did you have a special somepony back home?”
>You didn’t know that answer
>Why didn’t you ask that question?

>You slow down, and turn back towards Anon
>He looks back at you, and you realize you’d been eagerly waiting for his answer
>A little put on the spot, he seems to get a bit shyer
>He scratches his head, and answers hesitantly
>”Not really…
>”I mean, there was this one girl, and I was really into her.
>”But now she’s out of reach. Kinda was back then, I guess.”
>He looks down on the ground
>You focus on your sympathy for his loneliness, rather than the small satisfaction at his single state
>The three of you keep walking and chatting when you find your home
>The door’s open, with the lights on
“Huh?”
>Then Moondancer and Lemonhearts come out, trotting happily over to you
>Minuette! I hope you don’t mind! We came here early, and we thought we’d get set up,”
> they say with bright faces
“Of course I don’t! Moondancer, Lemonhearts, I’d like you to meet our guest of honor!”
>You step back, and place your arms wide in front of Anon, like a magician revealing a magical sight
“Mr. Anon Y. Mous!”

>The girls gather around Anonymous, the two joiners looking him up and down
>They’d been pretty excited to meet your alien friend
>You and Lyra had been excited back when Anon had first arrived
>But you’d both gotten used to it over time
>There were a lot of strange beings in Equestria, and a few in Ponyville, so getting accustomed hadn’t taken long
>Lemon and Moon begin asking him all sorts of questions about where he was from and who or what he was
>He seemed a little overwhelmed, being unable to answer all the questions at once
>Besides, he clearly wasn’t used to being the center of attention
>This, along with the fact that you were all outside in the cold, prompts you to herd everyone inside
“Come on, girls, you’ll have plenty of chances to get to know Anon inside.”
>Leading the way, you find your table decorated with large bowls and plates of food
>Moon and Lemon had offered to bring dinner
> and yowza! They hadn’t disappointed!

>The five of you get seated
>You make sure you’re sitting next to Anonymous
>You hadn’t really thought of the possibility of him being overwhelmed
>But now that the thought occurred to you, you wanted to make sure you were near
>Anon needed help when he was isolated, but he might need help easing back into the social sphere
>And you were the right mare for the job!
>Feeling confident, you start passing around the food, making sure everyone’s plate is full
>The five of you chat happily away, mostly focusing on Anon and his experiences
>You sense some discomfort when he speaks of his old life, but when you inform him that he doesn’t have to speak about it
> he assures you he’s fine
>You lean over and rub his back with your hoof, comfortingly, whenever he seems to get uncomfortable
>It seems to be happening less and less as dinner goes on, with Anon volunteering information not directly asked for
>You find yourself deeply aware of his movements, his hand gestures and where his eyes look
>You know, just so you can make sure you can keep him as comfortable as possible
>This is the first party he voluntarily came to
>(Pinkie had a thing for surprises)

>He’s leaning forward, and genuinely smiling as he recounts the details of his old life
>His old professors, and the arguments he got into with a couple of them
>His friends, who he used to have game nights and video game sessions with
>His family, and all the fun times they had
>What had begun as a caretaker’s interest became something else entirely
>You hung on each of his words with bated breath, fascinated as much by the strange human world as you were by the social side of Anon
>You noticed, by the positive slant of the stories, that his life seemed a lot happier than you expected
>Something made you think that he was leaving out the bad parts
>Still, he had a more interesting life than you had expected
>He’d been involved in plays, used to play an instrument, and been on some silly dates
>You tried to ignore the knots in your stomach forming as he described running around a library, leaving a variety of notes in the books
>And holding a girl in his arms as he walked by the side of a river
>You gasped when he recounted his one and only theft: some black eyeliner he’d slipped in his pocket
“You moron, why in Equestria would you do that!?”
>”I think the item I stole explains that: I was the kind of moron that wore black eyeliner”

>You punch him in the shoulder
>Geez, Anon
>As you help yourself to some more cake, you notice the expressions of the others
>Moon’s got the look she gets when she’s into a good book
>Studiously attentive, as if there will be a test on this
>Lemon’s looking confused,
> probably lacking a full understanding of the human world
>Not that you weren’t in a similar position
>He kept mentioning something about being drafted before he came over here
>When you asked what that meant, he just said that he was supposed to fight somebody
>He didn’t seem to want to continue the subject, so you let him let it go
>Glancing back to your regular companions, you notice the look on Lyra’s face
>She’s leaning in towards Anon, a smile wrapped around her face, but mostly on the left side
>And half-lidded eyes, fluttering gently whenever Anon looks her way
>Oh no
>This is the first thing she does when she’s talking to a stallion she’s interested in
>You resist the incoming scowl
>You take a deep breath, and calm yourself down
>It isn’t like this is the first time Lyra’s hit on a guest

>The cider Lyra brought has been flowing, mostly towards Lyra and Lemon
>Well, you had a bit, you suppose
>It’s not your fault you’d been absent-mindedly reaching for your cup whenever Anon told a new stories about his old marefriends
>Girlfriends?
>You fill up your glass again
>Pulling it up to your mouth, you take a big sip
>Setting it down, you notice Lyra leaning in a bit more
>Her empty glass tells you all you need to know about how much she’s had
>There’s definitely been a few refills on her end
>Lemon’s looking at Lyra with a bemused expression
>Ah, she knows what’s going on
>Lyra get’s that smile she gets
>She places her hoof on Anon’s arm, and
“H-hey guys!”
>All eyes are on you
>Lyra recedes, thankfully
“Uh, why don’t we start on those games!”
>You laugh, trying to sound casual

>”Of course!”
> Lyra says happily, the bouts of cider serving to make her fairly amenable
>Moondancer looks up from her…
>notes?
>Yup, she’s taking notes on Anon
>You hold back your laughter, not wanting to risk hurting her feelings
>”That’s right! We haven’t even started the games yet!”
>She exclaims, before pulling up a large board with a tall stack of papers
>”Alright, so the game I brought was Ogres and Oubliettes..”
>A minute into her explanation of the complicated game, Lemon lightly prods her and whispers something into her ear
>Moon blushes, and meekly apologizes
>”I’m sorry, Anon, I kind of got ahead of myself?
>”What would you like to play?”
>Anon thinks for a while, then turns to you
>”What was that one game you were explaining to me?”
>You remind him of your favorite party game, Crazy Eighty Eights, and he smiles broadly, picking it
>You pull the cards out and begin to shuffle
>This was gonna be fun

>Several rounds in and the Lyra problem presents itself again
>Moondancer, previously sitting by Anon, had gone up to the bathroom
>On her return, there was a cyan mare in her place
>Leaning up against Anon
>You grit your teeth, then relax them
>Relax, Minuette
>It’s just drunk Lyra
>Happens every time, right?
>Anon’s been giving you the occasional look, slightly curious
>You’ve been laughing much more than usual, partly because of the cider and partly as a mask for
>…
>For whatever it is you’re feeling
>He just shrugs and looks away, taking the cider Lyra’s been handing him
>Wait a minute.. how long has THAT been going on?
>You try to count the refills she’s brought him, but find your memory a bit fuzzy
>Doesn’t matter, you guess
>It’s a party, and he’s allowed to drink as much as he wants to
>And talk to Lyra as much as he wants to
>And… hug Lyra… as much as he wants to
>Each time you tell yourself this, it works a little less

>The next round of games pass quickly, as you move from Crazy Eighty Eights to another, then another
>All following a familiar routine
>Moondancer watches the other players, learns their playstyle, and counters it
>Lemonhearts blithely plays, loses, drinks, and watches Anon and his minty compatriots with a bemused smile
>She tosses a wink at Anon here and there, and bursts out laughing at Minuette’s bewildered glare at her
>Lyra, barely playing the game, keeps tossing her glass back and giving Anonymous a lascivious stare
>Each game brings her less concern over her hopeless losing streak and more daring in her pursuit of Anon
>First, she leans against him, her back on his arm
>Then she reaches over and pulls his arm around her
>Then she turns to her side, and snuggles up to him
>At present, she’s rubbing her cheek into his side, throwing cards on the table every time Minuette testily reminds her

>Minuette’s caught in a cycle of staring at Anon with wide eyes and almost perceptible breaths from her slightly parted mouth
>She’s ripped from this constantly by Lyra’s furthered moves
>She turns from a look of shock into anger, a glare thrust towards Lyra’s delirious visage
>Unnoticed, she turns to her cards, eyes down, and plays
>After a minute, Anon will play, say something, or touch her
>The petting or scratching of Anon sets her rigid, cheeks turning an almost tangible red
>And she’s back into square one
>Anon is, to himself, a worthy opponent of Moondancer
>Ever oblivious, he carefully observes every move made by the mares in front of him
>He spends a lot of time analyzing the cards carefully laid by Moondancer, lazily thrown down by Lemon and Lyra, and furiously slammed by Minuette
>He even stops to congratulate himself on his masterful ability to read the ponies around him, due to his title of second place
>In his victory, he finds himself with an arm wrapped around a cute minty pony to his right, and occasionally petting or scratching the adorable blue pony to his left
>All is well for Anon, his satisfied smile declares

>Lyra turns towards Anon and stares into his eyes
>He looks back, but you can’t see his expression
>She grins, and brings her feet closer to the chair, preparing to stand up, which would bring her face right up to-
>No!
“Hey!
“-Uh, so Anon had that game I told you about!”
>It may only delay the inevitable
>But you had to do everything you could
>Your cider-addled mind had forgotten the thin justifications for your desire to intervene
>You only had one thought
>Do not let Lyra kiss Anon
>You explain the rules to minds just bright enough to nod in comprehension
>5 players, 3 rebel trying to make the missions go, 2 spies trying to stop the missions
>5 missions require 2, 3, 2, 3, 3 people, everyone voted for who went
>During the explanation, you look at Anon, wanting to make sure you got it right and wanting to look at Anon

>The first game is just a practice round
>The designation cards are passed out, and instead of everyone closing their eyes while the spies keep theirs open to see each other, everyone watches
>Its Anon and Lyra
>She winks at him, mumbling something about cahoots
>He winks back
>You clear your throat loudly, breaking their staring
>Or what you perceive as staring
>The round continues and you demonstrate failing and succeeding in a mission
>Once everyone knows what to do, you shuffle out the cards and go again
>You look at your designation card: you’re a spy
“Alright, everyone close your eyes.
“Ok, now spies open their eyes.”
>You see Lyra open her eyes, grinning at you
>You nod, ready to start
>But Lyra’s pointing at Anon and –oh!
> suggesting something very ready with her hoof movements
>You turn red and shake your head furiously
>Then she raises her eyebrows, and gestures to herself and you, then to Anon
>Wait, what?

>”Can we open our eyes now?”
“Uh, no.”
>You turn away from Lyra, who is now mouthing “Both”
“Alright, everybody close your eyes now.”
>You try not to think about what Lyra was implying
>It isn’t too hard: you don’t really want Lyra there
>Or Anon!
>You recoil from the thought of furiously rutting your new friend into the ground
>You stop thinking about tearing his pants off on the table after the rest have fallen asleep
>You push away thoughts of him looking deep into your eyes while he just takes you in those big strong hands of his, and just–
>Agh!!
“Alright, everybody open your eyes!”
> you shout a little too loudly and out of breath
>Everyone does
>Okay, round 1

>The round passes quickly, everyone too drunk to figure out the spy
>Honestly, you were hoping were a greater climax
>Guess this game isn’t so interesting when everybody’s drunk off their asses
>Lyra pretty much gave away the whole thing when she ran her hoof up Anon’s chest and told him that she had a secret
>You didn’t help when you shooshed her and told her not to say that
> falling into Anon’s lap
> forgetting to leave until Anon cheerfully hugged you and Lyra pushed you two off
>You tried to lean back, and laugh it off
>But he just dashed right after you once he heard that laugh and hugged you even tighter
>Lyra came afterward, tackle-hugging the both of you
>Lemon had erupted in laughter, and Moondancer just stared at you
>You’d just lain there, not necessary wanting to push him off of you
>So yeah, the game didn’t really end on an interesting note
>Just you and two of your closest friends, collapsed on the floor
>With one of them planting her lips on the other’s

“Get off!”
>You kick out with your hooves, forcing your two friends off of you
>Anon took the brunt of the blow, right in the chest
>He tumbles back, crashing against the table
>Lyra, pushed back with him, is lying at his side
>He looks at you, dazed
>”Sorry,”
> he slurs, pain evident in his eyes
>He grasps his chest, and wheezes in pain
>No
>No, you didn’t mean for this to happen
>You just wanted Lyra off
“Anon, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to-“
>”No, it’s fine,”
> he wheezes, trying to appease you
>You didn’t need appeasing
>You just-
>This was supposed to be a good day for him!
>Why did you hurt him?

>Tears stir up in your eyes as you witness your failure
>Anon’s hurt, and all because you couldn’t control yourself
>Lyra’s picking herself back up
>and laying herself down in Anon’s lap
>She starts humming a tune, and you realize she’s way too wasted to understand what was going on
>Anon sighs heavily, his eyes filled with that familiar despair
>You can’t see this
>Him tumbling back to where he’d been, this time by your hoof
“Anon, I’m sorry!”
> you cry out through your first tears
>And with that, you run into the next room, unable to hold in the torrent anymore
>Leaning up against a wall, you let go
>All the tension of today, all the confusion, all the frustration,
> all bottled up as you tried to fake the cheeriness that usually comes so naturally to you
>As you gasp for air between sobs, you feel a familiar sensation
>”There there,” a voice whispers softly, as you feel your back being lightly rubbed

>You turn back, the alcohol and sobbing making you unsure of the source
>A warm smile and a pair of raspberry eyes greet you
>Lemon sits by your side, then pulls you into a hug
>You resist for a second, trying to convince yourself you’re fine
>You give up immediately, and sink into her embrace
>It’s there you cry into her chest, as she brushes your hair
>It hadn’t been the first time you’d pushed yourself to hard, her watching and comforting you when you failed
>You’d always had trouble overestimating what you could do, and after too many rebuffs, Lemon stopped trying to talk you down
>But she didn’t stop comforting you
>You’d never stopped being grateful for that
>”Wanna talk about it?
> she asks, ready to accept a yes or a no
>You sniffle, and nod your head

>You lean up, and start talking
>You start with the feeling you got after Moondancer
>Like you’d been passing by people in need, not even noticing them
>How you’d tried to be more vigilant in seeing people that needed a friend
>Your successes, your failures
>And then your meeting with Anon
>He seemed painfully isolated, but what’s more, open to friendship
>You’d taken an interest, and visited him a few times more
>You’d gone to eat with him on several occasions, and once had had s’mores and cocoa with him and Twilight
>Nothing too big and fancy though, just short hang-outs where you could find him
>All initiated and supported by you
>This had been the first time he’d reached out, asking you if you’d like to hang out
>You’d been so giddy to see him coming of his shell, you brought him over to your house
>At least, that’s what you’d told yourself
>Lately, you’d been wondering whether your desire to pursue his happiness was only out of friendly concern

>Anon was a better friend than you’d ever imagined he’d be
>He was funny, polite, and actually pretty smart once he got going about things he was passionate about
>And his hands were pure magic
>It was embarrassing to admit, but every time he starting petting you or scratching behind your ear, your whole body felt like it had caught on fire
>Stuff like that was usually coltfriend material, and he had started doing it accidently, not really thinking about it, while he would speak to you
>But you didn’t want it to stop, even when you’d seen Twilight inquisitively staring at Anon’s absent-minded hands on your neck
>Anyway, he came over to your place, and you’d been shocked by how much better he looked without his trademark slouch and downcast eyes
>Before you’d known it, you added a third option to the two you’d prepared beforehand
>an option for a more intimate hang-out tonight
>And when he denied that, you ended up shoe-horning it in anyway
>And then Lyra had been…
>You didn’t know how you felt, or what it was
>Maybe you just didn’t want to know

>Lemon looks at you directly,
>  her firm look preventing you from avoiding an answer
>”Minuette, do you like Anon?”
>You briefly consider pretending to mistake her meaning, and say yes, you like him as a friend
>You knew that wouldn’t last a second with Lemon
>No longer able to avoid the question, you think about it
>There was definitely some attraction there
>And he was an incredibly welcome addition to your life
>Couldn’t deny either of those
>But he was different from you, in tremendous ways
>Not just his having a different form, but it seemed that his mind worked in ways that a pony’s mind didn’t
>From what you could pick up, his race seemed to be defined by both genius and hatred
>And while you were fascinated by his mind and who he was, there were times that you got a little worried
>It was rare, and not too strong, but it reminded you of how different he was from you
>Not to mention, you just didn’t think you knew him well enough
>You’d been friends for a month or so, and you knew a bit, but there were still mysteries about him,
> mysteries you wanted solved before anything happened
>These reservations, coupled with your immense care and admiration for him, left you unsure
>A lost look returns Lemon’s even stare
“I don’t know.”

>She nods, seeming to understand
>You recount to her, exhaustedly, your entire thought process
>She continues nodding, her studious look bringing Moondancer to mind
>A smile breaks across her face as you explain his good traits, not the least of which are his magic hands
>She frowns as you describe the issues of him being so different,
> but then her eyes light up, and a wide smile stretches across her face
>What?
“What?
> you ask, tentatively
>”Oh, nothing,” she replies, with teasing cheerfulness
>Oh, you are so not keeping this from me
“Come on!”
> you demand, only partly kidding
>”Fine,” she responds happily, clearly intending an eventual surrender
>”Just something I noticed: all the positive attributes described the ways that you liked Anon.”
“Uh-huh”
> “And all the negative traits were reasons not to be with him.”
>…
“And?”
>”You really don’t get it?”
> she asks, honestly surprised
>”Pretty much all those reasons you said you didn’t like him were reasons why you shouldn’t like him, not why you didn’t like him.”

>After a moment, you understand her meaning
>”Minuette, I think you do like him, you just don’t want to.”
>A concerned visage tells her you don’t know how to feel
>What do you do?
>You can’t deny it, you do have some feelings for Anon
>Not the strongest, consuming feelings, but they are there,
> and they are definitely not ignorable
“What do I do?”
>”Well, if you want my opinion, you shouldn’t just jump in.
>”Your concerns were valid, and yeah, I do think you should get to know him a little better before you think about anything like dating
>”But you gotta be honest with yourself, and probably him too
>”He knows something’s up, and you might sabotage yourself if you keep trying to convince the both of you that there’s nothing going on.
>”And who knows? Maybe he’s got something for you too.”
>At this last remark, she gives you a sly little smile, and you remember that she’d been watching you and him the whole night
>Wait a minute
“Does he?”
>She glances upward, poorly pretending innocence
>”Oh, I wouldn’t know. I’ve never met a human before!”

>Before you can argue the point, she’s changing the subject, and walking back to the living room
>”It’s getting late, and Lemon and I gotta catch that train back.”
>You’d forgotten about that
>It was a last-minute party, so it was understandable
>You wipe the stray tears off your face, and hope your eyes aren’t too red
>The two of you head back into the living room, where the other three have been for the last half hour
>Lyra’s snoring loudly on the lounge chair, a mostly empty glass on the table within reach
>Anon’s deep in conversation with Moondancer, who’s compromised her pure studious expression with one tinted with compassion
>Anon is still definitely affected by the alcohol, closer to Lyra’s state than yours or Lemon’s
>He’s rocking around, gesticulating wildly as he tries to explain…
>something… to Moondancer
>You can’t really tell, since half of his words are slurred
>You can make out your name, a mention of the race, and makes a hand motion that looks a whole lot like groping
>Moondancer blushes at this last part, and judging by her concentrated look, appears to be understanding what he’s saying
>Maybe you weren’t off on your interpretation of his gesticulation

>Moondancer notices you and Lemon, and perks up
>”Oh! I was just thinking about when we needed to go.
>”Is it now?”
>Lemon hearts nods, and opens her mouth in a gaping yawn
>Moondancer surprises you by turning to Anon and giving him a big hug, which he happily returns
>Wrapping his arms around Moondancer, he notices you too the side
>”Ohheyyy, Minwet! We were jusht talking boutchu!”
>You and Lemon turn to Moondancer, who laughs sheepishly
>She explains that Lyra had fallen asleep right after the two of you had left, and she’d been talking with Anon
>He had told her about his start in Ponyville, and she relayed her similar experience of isolation
>Afterwards, they bonded over their mutual knowledge of rocks
>You laugh out loud, interrupting her
>Of course she’d know about rocks
>She starts to resume, but then stops
>”The he, uh, started talking about you, Minuette.”

>Your ears perk up
“Oh yeah? What’d he say?”
>Anon, not listening at all, had been smiling gaily at you for the past minute
>On impulse, he rushes in for a hug, squeezing you tightly
>Over his shoulder, you see Moondancer blush a little
>Lemon snickers as she sees Anon holding you, oblivious to everything but you
>He raises his hand up and
>-oh, he’s petting you again
>You catch your breathe, clear your throat, and look at Minuette as seriously as you can
”What’d he say?”
>Obviously uncomfortable, she tosses a handful of ums and uhs your way
>At your insistence, she just tells you
> “I think you oughtta talk to him sometime.
>”It’s really not for me to say.”
>Your cock your head, confused
>Lemon laughs, and goes over to Moondancer’s side
>”Alright, we better head out now. You got Lyra?”
“Yeah, I’ll put a blanket over her”
> You reply, suspicious of them
>They were clearing keeping something from you
>But it became clear that they weren’t going to tell you when they stepped out the door and waved goodbye, before disappearing into the night

>After they leave, you turn towards Anon, still hugging you
>His head rests on your shoulder, and you can hear him softly humming
“Anon,”
> you whisper softly, not wanting to disturb him
>”Anon, I gotta get Lyra.”
>He seems to get the message, as he holds you a little tighter, and grunts in the negative
>You can’t bring yourself to pry him off, so you return the hug to him
>He doesn’t let go for a while
>You’d think he’d fallen asleep if not for the steady petting
>Finally, he lets up for a moment, just enough to look you in the eyes from a few inches away
>You can see his dilated eyes, so close now
>He starts to move his face towards yours
>You should push him away
>You close your eyes
>You should push him away
>You lean in
>You should push him away
>You part your lips

>You feel Anon’s forehead press against yours, the crown of his head pressing against your horn
>What?
>You open your eyes, to see your Anon with his own closed, a content smile on his face
>Oh
>Guess that was something else
>You cough, trying to hide your embarrassment,
>Afterwards, you lightly but firmly push him off
>Shaking your head, you levitate Lyra onto the couch
>You pull a couple of blankets off the shelves, and bring them over to the couch, laying them on Lyra
>She’s snoozing peacefully
>For a moment, you’re jealous of her
>But you’ll be asleep soon, and afterward, you can talk to Anon
>Celestia, what a night
>You turn towards Anon, who had seated himself in the recliner in your absence
>Still a bit upset at what transpired, you say, a little too testily
“Anon, it’s time to go.”

>His face is unreadable as he stands up
>He walks towards you, until his stomach is eye-level
>Then he kneels down and sits with his legs crossed, like he did that first time in your office
>And again he’s staring into your eyes
>You can’t let this happen again
>But this time, his breath deepens along with yours
>His eyes dilate, and a goofy grin spreads across his face
>”Hey Minuette.”
> he says, leaning in, his soft voice enchanting you
“W-what??
>You find your voice shaky as you lean in closer, hypnotized by his half open eyes
>”I like you.”
> he says, smiling sweetly
“I, uh, like you too, Anon.
> you respond, trying to play it cool
>”I like you a lot,”
> he says breathily, his right hand rising up to trace your trembling lips
>His finger touches your lips, then moves them slightly downward,
> exposing the wet, inner portion, which his finger runs down
>his finger retracts, and he runs his thumb from left to right, then along your cheek
>Under his spell, you close your eyes and move your head along with it, tilted slightly to the side while he opens his palm to cup the side of your face while you nuzzle him
“Anon…”
>You moan, not wanting him to stop
>Your eyes flutter open, and see him closer than ever, his beautiful lips almost on yours
>You close your eyes again, and move forward, pressing your lips into his

>The kiss goes on for minutes, your bodies magnetized to each other
>He cups the back of your head and pushes you into him
>Your tongues come out, intermingling
>Celestia, you’ve wanted this
>You didn’t allow yourself to know it
>To fully give into it, even when you received Lemon’s revelation
>This was incredible
>But there was something wrong
>There was a pit in your stomach
> that was getting harder to ignore
>You pull yourself off of him, a frown spreading across your face
>This moment should have been more
>He was trashed, completely drunk
>And as much as you wanted him, you wanted him as is
> not so smashed he could barely see in front of him
>Your heart seizes with worry
>Maybe you were wrong, maybe you should have just let it happen
>Were your fears founded?
>Were you just scared?
>Either way, you felt unsure about this
>And that’s not a thing to ignore and push forward on
>You’d deal with this, but later,
> when he wasn’t drunk, and you weren’t on the verge
>He sits there, looking at you with a sleepy, confused expression
“Come on, it’s time to go to bed”
>He grins wickedly at this
>You sigh heavily, trying to suppress your reaction to his meaning
“No, not like that”
>A pouty face comes forth, and you find a little of your sense of humor return
>Maybe you weren’t going to be sleeping with him tonight
>But…
>A small spark of joy ignites as you justify your plan
“Come on, Anon”
> you say with a small, gentle smile
>He follows you into your bedroom, and up onto your bed
>You stop his hand from wandering as he snuggles up close
“Not that, not now.
“Just sleeping tonight. Is that okay with you?”
>He looks at you thoughtfully, and smiles shyly
>”Yeah”
>With the last of your strength, you bring the blanket over the both of you
>You knew that this was wrong
>You should send him home
>But it was so cold out there, and he was way to drunk to find his way home
>Poor thing would probably freeze
>And you wanted him close
>Maybe it was silly to deny a kiss and share a bed
>But the alcohol and exhaustion from a day of excitement and keeping yourself from Anon had taken its toll
>Anything could happen tomorrow
>Including a split, you think with a grimace
>And even if you didn’t feel comfortable with a kiss, the self-denial of that had used up your last stores of self-control
>You could sleep together chastely
>Your inner arguments and turmoil fade as you fall into sleep
> with Anon’s arm around you

>You wake up to a pressure over your chest
>Its Anon’s arm, hugging you
>wait
>OH CELESTIA WHAT DID YOU DO
>Anon was in your bed, half naked
>Oh no oh no oh no oh no
>You couldn’t remember last night
>You couldn’t remember last night!
>You sit up, a cold sweat freezing your body
>You shake Anon awake, your fear expressing itself in a violence you did not expect
>Anon winces at the pain
>”Ah, what the hell?”
>He shoves your hoof away, then looks blankely around him
>”Wait…”
> he asks with a confused visage, beginning to understand the situation
>His eyes bug out as he completes his grasping of such
>Frantically, he darts under the covers, and throws them off
>He’s eyeing them now, a frantic concentration evident in his focused eyes
>You sit there, absolutely confounded at his reaction
“What are you doing?”
> you cry out, finally finding your voice

>”hold on, hold on”
>He grinds his teeth, and launches the blanket to the floor, spreading it flat out, then examining it from above
>After a minute, he smiles, satisfied
“Anon, what in Equestria-“
>”Stains,”
> he interrupts you, blushing a little
“Pardon?”
>”Stains. If we’d done something, there’d be stains,” he sheepishly responds
>You look at him, slackjawed for a moment
>Then you realize he has a point
>So what did happen?
“Anon, I can’t remember what happened.”
>He nods, looking uncomfortable: “Neither can I.”
>An idea clicks in your head
“Hey Anon, can you get Twilight over here?”
>”Huh?”
“She could cast a spell to make us remember.”
>”Really?”
“Well, I assume so. That, or she can go back in time. Or make us go back in time.
“I really don’t know. But if anyone can help us, it’s gonna be Twilight.”
>He thinks about it for a minute, then nods, running out of the house, and towards his own

>You are now Anon
>Something definitely happened
>Maybe it didn’t go as far as it could’ve but something definitely happened
>The thatched-roofs fly past you as you sprint back to the castle
>They fly past less quickly when you halt, gasping for air, moments later
>You frown, lips curled downwards as you try not to vomit
>Between the blinding, burning sun and your ridiculous decision to sprint home
>With heroic resolve, you keep your mouth closed, and shudder on
>A painful mile later, you arrive at your house
>Twilight’s in the main hall, discussing something with an unfamiliar horse
“Twilight,” you gasp, with imperfectly functioning lungs
>She doesn’t hear you
>You lurch forwards, calling her names at intervals, but to no avail
>Finally, you stop, take a long breath, and call out her name once more, with as much breath as you can muster

>Thankfully, she turns towards you
>”Anon! There you are!
>”Where were you? I had no idea you’d gone!”
“S-sorry,”
> you grunt through your agony
“Was at Minuette’s. Party. Need spell.”
>Her eyebrow raises
>”Huh? You need a spell for her party?”
“No. I was”
>breath
“at a party. I don’t”
>breath
“remember what hap-“
>breathe
“penned. Need a memory spell.”
>Your point comes laboriously through, and she nods, then frowns
>”Anon, I’m sorry, I don’t have any spells like that
>The pony you don’t recognize pipes up:
>”I do!”
>”Back in my uh, utopia, I had to manage my citizens’ memory”
>Her words drop when she says “utopia,” but you hear it alright
>You’re feeling suspicious
> but then, you really need to know what happened
“Ok, whatever, can you do it?”
>”Sure, let me just-“

>A light bluish magic emanates from her horn, and seeps into your forehead
>Then, blinding pain
“Ah! Fucking shit!”
>You push the mare over as you flail
>The pounding inside your head stops, and you open your eyes again
>Geez Louise, that hurt
>The purple unicorn’s picking herself up
>”Ow”
“Sorry about that…”
> you murmur, not really feeling sorry
>”It’s alright. That happened to me a couple times before,”
> she responds, a nostalgic half-smile on her lips
>”How are you feeling now? Remember anything?”
>The night’s coming back to you, but still fuzzy
“It’s still kinda fuzzy.”
>”It’ll be that way for a bit. Just give it an hour or so”
>With that promise, you start running back
>Your mind was full of Minuette; everything else was barely registering
“Thanks, whoever you are!

>You hurtle down the street, only to be stopped by the familiar agony in your stomach
>Keeled over once more, you feel a flash of pain in your head
>Pictures of the day before return to you with every pulse
>A race
>A hoof on your chin
>A picnic
>A blanket curled around the both of you
>And then they stop
>You take a minute, moving to the shade of Sugarcube Corner to rest
>The agony of the hangover combined with Celestia’s unwelcome gift was enough
>Besides, you might as well take a minute to recover all the memories
>No point in coming back with half a story
>You lounge into the chair, a mess of limbs flopped every which way
>Occasionally grunts of pain murmur outward as you twist and turn to keep the sun out of your eyes
>”Can I help you?”
>A somewhat chipper, somewhat nervous voice asks
>The blurry figure of Mrs. Cake materializes before you
>Guess you were being pretty noisy
>Still, you weren’t really in a position to be sorry
“You can if you got anything for hangovers”
> you groan, staring directly at the plump pony

>Her discomfort increases, and she just nods vaguely at you
>She backs away, stealing glances at you until she’s behind the counter
>You notice her talking to her husband, who frowns and nods
>Well, guess you’re gonna have a short stay here
>Watching Mr. Cake exit, another surge of pain comes to you
>Meeting some new ponies
>Telling stories of Earth
>Playing Crazy Eighty Eights
>Getting completely smashed
>Getting kissed by Lyra
>As the memory of that last on come back, you blush a bit
>Man, that’s gonna be awkward the next time you see her
>Ah well
>It was a pretty fun night, judging by what you remember
>Probably not much left, although you can’t imagine what it was that went on between you and Minuette
>A deep sigh enters the morning air, and you wish it wouldn’t be too weird
>Still
>You aren’t afraid that it’ll be the end
>Minuette’s not the kind of girl to take off on you
>She’s a friend
>You smile at the thought
>She’s my friend, and I’m not going anywhere

>It takes you longer than you’d like, with multiple stops due to your not yet faded headache.
>Still, you make it, panting and gasping for air.
>Your stomach heaves with every breath, the toll of your frantic pace nearly disabling you.
>It wouldn’t have bothered you one bit,
> had Minuette not opened the door at that exact moment.
>You struggle to greet her, but your ragged breaths interrupt your every attempt.
>A look of surprised concern crosses her face, and she pulls you inside, out of the blistering sun.
>Panting on the nearby couch, you begin to rethink yourself.
>You can imagine the sweaty, near-broken mess of a person on the couch, hair matted with perspiration and chests heaving raggedly.
>You fight against it, only winning
>But at the end, you can’t beat this on your own
>Anguish crosses your face as your confidence fails,
> the old self-revile returning with seven more measures of strength.
>Through the crippling despair spreading through you like some vicious poison,
> one sensation breaks through your numbed consciousness: a hoof on your hand.
>You look up from your lap, greeted by Minuette’s concerned face,
> looking half as troubled as you feel.
>“I shouldn’t have let you go,”
> her trembling voice comes,
>“I should have gone with you, or gone myself.”
>You try to assure her that it’s fine, but she’s convinced she’s the fault of your pathos.
>A reminder of the message you were sent to get runs through you, and you rush to fulfill your duty.
“Minuette, I,”
>Your voice gives out as pain wracks your sorry head, sending it straight down into your heads.
>A worn groan leaves your lips, followed by a worried sigh.
>“Don’t try to speak now, sweetie.”
> comes her soothing tone.
>The final expression is noticed by both of you, and your tired eyes rise to meet her own, shocked and wide.
“Minuette,”
> you sputter, followed by her clasping her hoof over your mouth,
> from equal parts desire to make you rest and to prevent your reaction.
>Exhaustion convinces you to rest, and you keel over on the couch,
> eyes still barely open, staring at the worried pony before you.
>Your mind fading to a less inhibited state, you mumble to her
“I love you…”
>Too tired to be alert, but not of the kind to put you to sleep, you fall into a painful half-alive state.
>Your eyes close and open lazily over the next few minutes,
> taking blurry snap-shots of the sweet pony before you.
>Her perfect blue mouth open, eyes wide in surprise.
>Darkness.
>Her having taken a step back, a hoof held to her mouth, covering full lips,
> which bear a slowly growing upward curve.
>Darkness.
>Wondrous eyes, closer to you,
>but focusing on something above you, an smile half open and forgotten by its owner.
>Darkness.
>Perfect blue eyes, covered by a silver and dark blue curtain.
>Darkness. A hoof moving it aside, revealing two windows, crinkled at the sides.
>Darkness.
>Then more darkness.
>You had surrendered to your hurt,
> unwilling to expend the effort to keep your eyes open or understand where you were.
>The last sensation you feel is of a faint whispering, tickling your ear with unheard messages.
>Minutes later, your eyes open, and your arms contract.
>Your arm finds itself obstructed, and a cursory investigation finds the source:
> a giddy pony’s face resting on your forearm, blissfully staring at you.
“Minuette?” You start, your pain mostly gone.
>“Yes?”
> comes the lazy answer,
>her eyes still dead set on your face, exuding a glowing happiness you had come to love so.
“Minuette, we kissed.”
>”I know,”
> she tells you without a trace of discomfort.
> Her easy tone confuses you, and you inquire whether or not she already knew.
>Her eyes leave you, and focus on some distant point.
>”I pieced it together just now. After you told me that you…”
> her voice trails off, and her eyes come back to you, almost expectantly.
“that I loved you,”
> you reply.
>The nervousness you felt before had left.
>Not completely, but the presence of this beloved, perfect mare had finally broken through,
> to the point where you barely felt a tinge of fear.
>There is a knot of discomfort growing in your stomach as you realize that only part of your dream is realize.
>You look at her, concern in your eyes:
“Um, Minuette...?”
> You place your hand on her hoof, which rests on your chest.
>She looks towards your hand, then towards your worry.
>Realizing what you ask for before you say it,
> she leans in close, her muzzle brushing your cheek as it comes to rest over your face.
> Her lips hover just above your own, and her warm eyes hold yours for what feels like eternity. >“Anon,”
> she whispers, her warm breath on your own lips,
>“I love you too.”
>With that, she drops her lips onto yours,
> and your world is made complete.