Anonymous (First Impression, Finale)

>A constant and pleasant crackle emanates from the fireplace, and Anon’s sitting room is bathed in warm, flickering light.
>Outside the window the world has turned blue and black, and you can just barely make out faint twinkles of starlight in between distant roofs and the top of the window frame.
>Even with front row seats to a freshly made fire the air inside the house was cool, pleasant and just slightly humid.
>It was a perfect autumn night, one that deserved your good company.
>Dash, who sat on your right, had been doing most of the snacking between the two, and the plate you shared at your end of the table was now bare.
>The dish at the other end catered to the needs of Anon and Twilight; it too had been picked clean.
>By now you were quite thankful of Pinkie’s gift and held no grudge for her not being able to make it, even if she had been quite hard on herself for not throwing a party for the newcomer the moment he arrived.
>Really, you were surprised they hadn’t met already given her frightening dedication, but everyone had been so, so busy lately, even you.
>You didn’t realize how overdue you were for something like this when you first arrived, but it was quickly coming to your attention now.
>”Brrhh—uggh, I needed that... “ Dash comments through a belch as she finishes off the last of the sweets in her hoof, your displeased look wasted on her as she drains what little is left in her cup.
>”Did you not eat dinner? I knew they had you on long shifts, but…” Twilight asks, her purple body sinking comically deep into the mino-sized chair on your left.
>”They always ride my flank like there’s no tomorrow during S-Change weeks! I had to cloud set a quarter mile of sky, and THEN I had to come to street level because Leaf Changing C was too busy scratching their butts to keep up, as usual, and I had to help pick up their slack. I barely had time for lunch.” Dash states with mild agitation, bending forward to set her empty cup on the table before leaning back into her own plus-sized chair.
>“But… I guess that’s just part of being the fastest pony there is. Everybody wants a piece of you.” she continues, a knot of prideful confidence in her voice as she turns onto her side and stretches her rear legs, “Yeeeeaahp-ahh, those foals would probably be totally lost without me.”
>Ahh, THERE’S the humility.
>The raw disinterest in your deadpan expression as you sip gingerly from your cup yet again escapes your cyan companion.
>If any stranger could believe it, she actually didn’t act that way around her friends much.
>Sure Dash loved to be the center of attention, but she always had the good will to tone it down around her inner circle; sometimes even SHE could show signs of social grace.
>What you were experiencing now, and had been experiencing in samples ever since the four of you had sat down to chat, was what usually happened when she met ponies for the first time, ESPECIALLY if those ponies were of the fairer sex.
>Unfortunately, both of those criteria were being met tonight and she was making sure to lay it on thick.
>Of course, you can’t bring yourself to complain too much given how stagnant the conversation had been falling in between her leading it towards herself.
>Another thing that can be said socially of Dash is that she wasn't too fond of awkward silences, and had quite the talent for shooing them away.
>”Mmm, it sounds like it.” The smooth voice of your enigmatic host comments from the dim light on Twilight’s left, his eyes ever shining regardless of brightness in the room, ”You’re quite accomplished Rainbow Dash. I wonder what heights I might reach if I had even half the passion of the finest flyer in the world.”
>Ahh, his voice is silk and regal, and always just above a whisper.
>Now that you had spent some time together, his personality had changed marginally.
>Once you’d all spoken, shared, gotten a feel for each other’s personalities and limits, your truer selves began to show beyond the awkward tension, and now you were getting a clearer glimpse into him than before.
>What stark contrasts this Anonymous is made of.
>What conflicting emotions he stirs with his imposing form and satin, masculine voice.
>The weather mare blushes noticeably, clearly taken aback by the honest tone in the male’s simple, eloquent compliment.
>”U-uh… yeah?” she responds dumbly, averting her eyes and scratching gently at the side of her face with a hoof.
>Even though she was a mare of great talent, her tendency to showcase her successes (read: her ego) so blatantly usually earned her droll quips for her trouble, especially from colts.
>She wasn’t so used to the opposite sex adulating her so genuinely, and Anonymous’ simple smile is enough to confirm his sincerity.
>As nice as all of that was, the conversation had fallen into another lull, and considering the steam pouring out of Dash’s ears she would probably be no help for a while.
>You were going to step forward, ask Twilight about recent book checkouts, regale about a ludicrous dress commission, anything, when Anonymous stood slowly, gaining the attention of the others in the room purely by the force of his size and presence.
>”Well, ladies…” he begins, giving each of you a quick once-over, his expression accommodating but noticeably worn, “I think I need a drink. Anyone care to join me?”
>He peers at Dash whom, stumbling over her words for a moment, settles on “Uhh, n-no ice… “
>Now to you.
>”Oh yes, on ice please, dear.” You instruct simply, narrowly matching his overpowering gaze before he shifts it to Twilight.
>”Hot, right? I think the burner is still warm.” He preempts.
>Apparently his assertion is correct since Twilight’s surprised, happy nod sends him off to the kitchen to fix your drinks.
>Though you can only see Twilight you’re quite sure that all of you watch him as he goes.
>Examining the foreign but undeniably poised style of his movement.
>Curiously studying the slight shift of his rear beneath his modest clothing…
>Mm, ’curious’, such an excuse, and you were probably the only one with the gall to eye him like that.
>You whip your head back around with an ounce of shame.
>What an insulting change from earlier in the evening.
>You were only just starting to treat him properly, but your eyes were already exploring him with less than noble intent.
>You weren’t the sort of prude to castigate yourself over a little of the ‘Mare Gaze’ now and then, but after being so wary of him for the entire evening it didn’t exactly feel right to start simplifying him in a different way purely on the merit that it was arguably more ‘positive’.
>Still… things had been slow-moving, and you could probably think of worse ways to ponyize him.
>Maybe you were being a little too harsh on yourself.
>As you mull your thoughts over in your empty teacup, Twilight gets your attention, her voice whispered and just within earshot.
>”U-uhh-uhh, uhh, u-u-umm… “ she bumbles teasingly to Dash, the cyan mare quickly catching on to her point and frowning.
>”U-uhh, r-r-r-really sir? N-n-n-no ice, please.” Twilight continues in a foalish voice, grinning superiorly at your companion.
>You can’t stifle the giggle that escapes you as Dash bristles from the implied dig, her eyes narrowing at the purple librarian.
>”What’re you trying to say, bookworm? That you can talk to colts better? Besides, I didn’t even -- I mean, I wasn’t even-…” Dash whispers in reply, clearly flustered at the sudden ‘challenge’ to her marelynes.
>Twilight simply snickers, muffling the sound in her raised hoof.
>You both love Dash dearly, but she took herself so seriously and was so poor at hiding her emotions that a little ribbing here and there was pretty much mandatory.
“Don’t listen to her, darling.” You assure, reaching out and gently patting her on the withers with a hoof, “I’m sure Anonymous was quite charmed at your, erm… cute little display.“
>Mmm, ‘cute’.
>If the heavy huff she gives you and her face is any indication, ‘that’ little jab hit her square on the snout.
>She looks like she’s formulating a comeback but unfortunately it’s going to have to wait.
>Your host is returning and she certainly doesn’t want him to know the content of the conversation.
>”What are we talking about?” he asks softly as he lifts a blue glass from the makeshift tray in his other hand and presents it carefully to Twilight.
>She blows on the amber liquid within and takes a careful sip, eyeing Dash playfully all the while.
>”Uhh, nothing. Hey, listen--“ Dash begins, her sentence dying out as he hands her her own fresh blue cup; chilled, no ice.
>”Perrrfect, thanks babe.” Dash continues confidently, her suddenly flirtatious tone causing you to mentally flinch and Anon to pause and smile, amused.
>”Okay, so listen, Wonderbolt tryouts are next Saturday and they’re doing it down in Ponyville Park this year. I was thinking of heading down there,” she goes on, sipping the cool beverage clutched in her hooves, “I figure I’m probably a shoe-in, so you should come down there, too. Ya’ know, see me leave everybody in the dust? It’ll be great. I could even give you my first autograph as an official performer over a drink, whadaya’ say, hmm?” She hums, wisely leaving out the fact that this isn’t her first time trying.
>You note the grin she flashes is directed at both him AND the two of you.
>”Mm, that does sound fun…” Anon replies thoughtfully, his eyes momentarily shifting to Twilight who gives him a worried look.
>You’d seen that little exchange happen a lot tonight.
>It was especially common when you tried to get specifics on where he was from and certain aspects of his homeland.
>You wanted to be a little more suspicious, but that emotion hadn’t exactly been doing you any favors tonight.
>Still, you couldn’t help but be curious about where such an interesting being came from, especially considering that neither you nor anyone you asked had ever heard of a ‘human’ before now, nor anything ‘east of Bovaria’ save the Bovine Sea.
>Maybe he was from an unexplored continent?
>Where there even places for him to come from that weren't unmapped?
>Strange.
>Well, at least you could understand why this newest question was room for extra forethought.
>Anon, and possibly humans in general, were still quite new, and that wasn’t mentioning their more, mm… ‘powerful’ qualities.
>You have a feeling you know where this is heading; hopefully she doesn’t take it too hard.
>Honestly, you were a little surprised she hadn’t thought of this herself before asking, but Dash would be Dash.
>”Hmm, tell you what… I’m pretty busy, but I’ll check my schedule and see if I can make it.” He replies, reaching out and gently touching the side of Dash’s face with his hand.
>Dash stiffens slightly from his unexpected contact but quickly relaxes and drinks in the gentle caress which, now that you considered the position, was slightly similar to how you might nuzzle a friend as a greeting.
>”I’d feel terrible if I missed my new favorite pegasus’ big rise to stardom firsthand…“
>Ahh, more hot air.
>Dash’s eyes are dreamy as he retreats his soft claws, seemingly unaware that the most common ‘gentle letdown’ in the book had just been used to politely decline her invitation.
>Clever stallion.
>”… Uhh, huh? Favorite? Oh, uhh… yeah, yeah sure… “ the cyan mare whispers eloquently, her lidded eyes gleaming as she unabashedly stares at him.
>”… U-uhh! Just, you know, be quick! Haha, there’s only so much of ‘The Dash’ to go around!” she says cockily, trying in vain to recover from his touch by quickly downing several snout-fulls of cider from her overly large cup.
>Next comes you.
>Anonymous turns and heads back toward his chair, stopping at the foot of your seat to hand you your share.
>Only now, as you take the glass gently into your hooves, do you notice its unique intricacy.
>Unlike the other two simple blue cylindrical glasses he’d given to Twilight and Dash, as well as the simple brown one left on the tray he was presumably keeping for himself, this one was clear glass and full of artful designs.
>Branches adorned with small leafs and sprigs wreath its entirety.
>The design culminates at the origin of the wooded reeds; a large apple tree with a single ‘A’ discretely carved into the stump.
>The longer you stared at the magnificent, authentic cider glass, the stronger the case becomes that Celestia’s list of gifts to your host did not stop at expensive cider.
>Not only that, but the letter in the center strongly implied that it had been custom made for him.
>It was a precious, tasteful gift, and now it was in your care, so easily given.
>You open your mouth to protest, to press that such a valuable thing should be kept for him and him alone, but you can’t get the words out.
>Those eyes, comforting but haunting as he stands before you with the full force of his stature, cull the words before they can form a coherent sentence.
>He persuades, nay, insists, with barely a glance, and quickly returns to his seat with his own mug.
>You can only oblige.
>A comfortable silence follows, each of you testing your well-earned beverage.
>You tip the sizeable glass and a familiar bittersweet burn stings your throat, refreshing you in a way that only alcohol could.
>Though you’d maintain that cider isn’t exactly your drink of choice, the feel of the cool, finely-crafted and likely one-of-a-kind glass against your tongue is exquisite and satisfying in a way that’s hard to articulate.
>For a while the mellow burn of cider and the casual exchanges between you and your friends become your life.
>Twilight vents about little things like patrons returning books with scribbles and doodles in them.
>Dash tells you all of her humorous if slightly painful encounters with one Derpy Hooves, the Pegasus mare with an astonishing one-hundred and thirty-seven total workplace-related injuries.
>You decide to tell the story you’d been meaning to tell earlier about a stubborn mare who demanded a dress be made with a ghastly combination of both green and purple, and firmly asserted that she wanted the design to be both ‘ostentatious’ and ‘conservative’, creating many a headache.
>You notice that throughout this time Anonymous has very little to say, and instead calmly enjoys his drink with a level of reserved serenity that you find hard to believe given the potency of the brew in his hands.
>You could smell it all the way from the glass when he gave you yours.
>He comes in only here and there, offering his opinion or supporting the current one with a composed, stallion-like grace.
>You were only half-serious and quite ignorant to his true nature on the way here, but now that you’d spent some time in his presence he really WAS like the lordly, refined stallions from Bit-store romantic fiction.
>Except he was very real, and every so often spared you looks from across the room that your buzz-tinted mind colored for you in all sorts of ways that likely weren’t reflective of reality.
>Oh yes, the drink had long since begun having its desired effect.
>The fact that Anon’s mugs were ‘just a smidge’ larger than what was average had certainly helped things along.
>Though a younger you might doubt the wisdom in becoming so wobbly and vulnerable before such an intimidating fellow, the older you was becoming quite accepting of.... many things, as you continued to tip from your glass.
>”Anyone for seconds?” he asks, briefly peering into his mug before scanning your faces.
>”He-eck yeah,” Dash hiccups, raising and shaking her empty glass.
>Apparently you weren’t the only one feeling the effects of ponyville’s favorite party favor.
>“I’m sittin’ dry ovr’here, hook me up.”
”Yes, a little more for me, I think. If you would be so kind, darling.” You say, noticing that the pitch of your voice has risen a touch as you speak.
>”Uggh, maybe jus’… a little. My head’s is… is shwimming… “ Twilight slurs in response, setting her empty down on the table and leaning onto her side.
>You didn’t really expect her to keep up.
>She’d always been a light drinker, and your initial serving size had been anything but ‘light’.
>”You dun’ have to warm this one up, even. It’s okay.” Twilight continues, setting her chin gently onto the arm of her chair and sinking over deeper into its cloud-like cushions.
>Anon stands, and for the first time tonight a smile appears on his mouth that clearly showcases many of his teeth.
>They certainly weren’t as dangerous as you were expecting them to be, but you don’t miss the subtle but present points of certain specimens.
>”Mm, yes I do.” Anon hums graciously, reaching out and taking her cup in his hand.
>He doesn’t move with quite as much elegance as he did before, and the cadence in which he speaks has changed slightly, but he was certainly doing much better than any pony who’d had that much of what he was drinking by miles.
>”Noooooo, no no no.” Twilight whines in protest, her lips turning upwards as Anon reaches out and gently claims one of her ears in his grabbers, twiddling around it gently with a practiced, frightening precision.
>”Yes.” He whispers defiantly, decisively, and you hear the purple mare relent with soft ‘yes’ under her breath.
>Twilight seems quite pleased with their simple exchange, and you find yourself longing to know why.
>As he departs for the kitchen you don’t bother to restrain yourself.
>You watch the heft of his retreating bottom rock subtly as he heads for his pantry with a distinctly un-ladylike gratification, your meager moral protests muted by the soft buzz in the center of your head.
>After your vision for the evening vanishes you turn and close your eyes, enjoying the low, constant hum of the liquor as you sit a while and hold on to the last image you saw in your head.
>You wonder what time it is, but can’t summon the will to open your eyes and rid yourself of the pleasant memory.
>You continue to wonder what might be worth the loss of rousing you, and a thought arrives; an option you’d almost forgotten about.
>As you lean your head back into the plush chair you take inventory a second time and make absolutely sure that the many nagging, goody-goody voices in your mind had indeed been dulled to an ignorable whisper.
>After that, you decide that now is as good a time as any to partake in your little guilty pleasure.
>Twilight shifts her head slightly to observe you as your horn lights with magic, a small box you’d cleverly hidden away in your bags, under a tray of lemon squares, and finally under your chair surfacing to drift into your lap.
>”Whaaat? What gives, Rah? I thought you quit…“ Dash comments with some disappointment, shooting you a displeased look as you carefully lift the box’s small lid to reveal a collection of full-gauge Gryphon Cigars; your weakness.
“Some habits die hard, darling, and this is a special occasion, wouldn’t you say?”
>”Excuses, excuses.” Twilight retorts, a wry grin spreading on her lips as you lance the tip of one of the rolls with the combination of a cutter stashed in the box and a magical precision you were surprised you still possessed, quite frankly
“Hmpf, and everyone accuses me of spoiling fun...”  You lament as you place the treasured item in your lips and take an experimental cold draw, trading the cutter for a matchbox and ashtray from the same source before tucking said source back away under the chair.
>Your cut is perfect, as always.
>Next you set your tray on your right armrest and strike one of your long-necked matches, waiting a moment for some of the lighting agent to burn away; there was nothing worse than tasting sulfur and cheap ignition in cigars that were… well, let's be honest with ourselves, Rarity, [spoiler]150 bits and only ‘mostly’ legal.[/spoiler]
>Finally, you light and take a long, gradual drag, the rich and earthy smoke flooding your cider-painted mouth and dipping just a bit into your lungs.
>Oooo, you missed this.
>Truth be told you never actually quit, but you did cut down your intake significantly, and until tonight you’d been rid of it for two weeks.
>Two long weeks.
>You hadn’t exactly been ‘suffering’ per se, but you had been thinking about it.
>You knew that you were only one smoke in to your brand new case but didn’t bother with it for the longest time out of dedication to your work, and perhaps the desire to prove to yourself that you could.
>Well, you could, and now you deserved a little reward.
>Still clutching your lovely, ice-sweating glass, you pull the item from your lips with your aura and free the smooth taste in your mouth in a narrow stream, your action tainted somewhat by Dash scrunching her nose and noticeably huffing from the smell.
>Twilight, as much as she chided you, never cared much about the smell on account of her mother’s own little hobbies as she grew up.
>Dash, on the other hoof, usually made it a point to voice her displeasure, and after your third drag she does just that.
>”Uggh, c’mooon Rares that stuff reeks—you’re  killin’ me over here.” She grumbles, rolling onto her back and setting her large glass on her exposed tummy before lifting a foreleg to cover her nostrils.
”Mm, yes, I suppose I do OWE it to you to hang it up a little earlier than usual.” You reply, receiving a questioning look in return for your emphasis.
”After all, I can only imagine how terrible it must feel getting shot down like that.” You continue, positioning your bad habit back in your mouth and flashing her toothy grin.
“I’d offer to treat you to lunch tomorrow to cheer you up right away, but I think I’d need to ‘check my schedule’ first.“
>”Oooooo-hoo-hoo-hoo…” Twilight groans, her own smile fresh as she covers her eyes with her wrist joint and Dash’s face scrunches even harder.
>Alright, alright… maybe that was a ‘bit’ mean-spirited, especially considering that his refusal wasn’t entirely based on his or her own personal desires.
>That was on top of the knowledge that Dash wasn’t exactly as, erm… ‘experienced’ as she let on much of the time, and tended to take rejection on the hard side.
>Still, she knows it’s all in fun, and you wanted to get back at her a little for always hassling you about a little smoke.
>You expected her to get defensive like usual, but instead she, too, breaks into a grin, her eyes turning mischievous.
>”Well, at least ‘I’ actually had the guts to say something, RARITY.”
>She emphasizes the last word, your name, accusingly, as if making a point.
>Confusion fills you and you spare a glance to Twilight, who seems to have Dash’s expression growing into her own at the realization of… something, something that was escaping you.
>”I mean, I was jusht looking for a date, buuut you? You’ been makin’ eyes at him alllll night. I’m right here. I SEE you rubberneckin’ him every time he leaves, DARLING.”
>”Mm, yes. I wonder: what do you find so interesting about him from BEHIND, Rarity?” Twilight chimes in with a wolfish giggle.
>You feel the hotness in your face, and you know it’s a separate even from the booze.
“N-Now I can assure you, dear, I’ve—I wouldn’t do anything even close to resembling these accusations.“
>Dash’s shit-eating grin is eternal and growing even more obnoxious.
>Apparently you weren’t the only one who wanted a little payback with their salad.
>”Oh, ish that it? Sooo, you don’t like him? Do you think he’s ugly or something? That’s pretty cold of you.” Twilight retorts quickly, getting her licks in while you were cornered.
>And you WERE cornered…
>The only thing you can do now is break even and own up, during which you could wrack your brain and try and find instances of them doing less than savory things concerning stallions in the past, a feat that, to your dismay, the drink was also making difficult.
“Putting words in my mouth, hm?” You return snippily, gently tapping the ash from the edge of your cigar into the tray.
“Fine; I’ll have you know that I find Anonymous’ company quite enjoyable, and would be more than willing to escort him to dinner if he accepted my proposal.”
>” ‘Escort him to dinner’,” Twilight parrots, giggling again as she lays her heavy head on the armrest closest to you, “Right… “
>”What ELSE would you do with’um, Rara?” Dash prods, her eyes going slightly wide at the end as she peers off at something behind you.
>You figure there’s not much sense in trying to hide it from them now that the cat was out of the bag.
“Mmm, what I would do, ladies, what I would do… “ you trail off with a breathy, comical lust, your thoughts on the matter stopping sharply when you felt a familiar, horrifying tingle ride your spine.
>...
>Oh.
>Oh dear.
>...
>Goodness, when did he get so quiet?
>How did somepony so big sneak up on you?
>Twilight is catching on now, too, and you’re sure that Dash’s smile is breaking her stupid face.
>You can’t tell for sure because all you want to do is stare into the fire, the farthest point of interest from the space he was suddenly occupying.
>You pale, your cigar dipping in your mouth as a low, dark chuckle fills the room.
>You can hear and feel the fluff at the head of the chair above you sag lightly under his weight as he leans on it, a slender arm setting a quarter-full glass of hot cider next to Twilight’s head and then slowly coming around to your left for an unknown purpose.
>”Please, don’t stop on my account… “ he whispers right near your ear in that smoky, dark chocolate tone, his voice a quality of playful and seductive that only a stallion could ever truly duplicate.
>“Tell me: what WOULD you do with me, Miss Rarity?” he asks, your brain only just registering him removing the cigar from your lips.
>He’s so close you can feel the heat of his breath on your fur, inhale the unique scent of hearty spiced cider and lemon intermingling with his own unique scent.
>Your liquor-addled mind drifts back to the fresh memory of his teeth as he hovers in your blind spot, looms over you with no consideration for how the raw danger of his position was making your chest pound for more than just simple embarrassment.
>He rounds you on the left with his appendage, your cigar vanishing for just a moment before you spotted it, surprisingly enough, caught in his own mouth.
>You hardly believe your eyes as you watch the tip of your most beloved brand glow orange-red between his soft, masculine lips, and with nary a hack or a cough, the jug in his hand floating toward you in a mute request.
>You offer your—no, HIS glass forward, and he fills it a little less than half way with a gradual care, ensuring the fluid never hits the top lip of the jug and creates unhelpful suds.
>He’s… he MUST be flirting with you.
>The buzz of the alcohol is making you feel quite brave now, and those exciting, gripping eyes silently prod you for a reply.
>A reply you’re all too ready to give.
“I suppose that depends, darling. Did you leave a lover ‘east of Bovaria’?” you begin, wetting your drink-dried lips, “A wife or some similar relation?”
>He shakes his head in the negative before reaching up and removing your cigar from his mouth, cradling it in his thumb-claw and pointer as he blew a steady, cool stream up and away from you, his soft neck exposed and ready for your hungry eyes to explore; he WANTS you to look.
>Dangerous images flood your mind of him repeating the very same action he performs now, but sweaty, and satisfied.
>And in your bed.
“Perhaps you’re in the market for a lover, then?” You continue, taking the notably-shaped item he returns back into your mouth with an almost lewd eagerness.
>You catch a hint of what you think to be his taste on the wrapper and you thoroughly memorize it.
“Maybe somepony who shares your interests, lives close by? Maybe in this room? Maybe in this chair…“ you finish huskily, matching his gaze wholly for the first time tonight without the need or desire to look away.
>The soft sounds of surprise from your companions confirm how bold and easily construed your statement is.
>Let’s see little Dashie call you a coward now.
>”Hm, very forward…” He hums, your heart strumming as he appears to consider your offer.
>The beating in your chest nearly stops when he reaches for you.
>In that moment you come to the startling, exciting conclusion that you would be fine with whatever he was about to do, beastly or otherwise.
>No, not just fine with; you would relish it.
>You breath a sigh of contentment as his soft claws press into your perfect coat, combing past the edge of your mouth and onward to the base of your ear as he, finally, pauses, lifts his fingers, and taps you playfully several times on the cheek…
>”… and very drunk.” He eventually relents, offering you a kind look for your proposition but nothing more, turning then and approaching Rainbow Dash with the jug of cider.
“I welcome you to ask me again. When we’re feeling a little more lucid, that is.” He goes on, tipping the jar into Dash’s cup for a brief time before returning to his seat and emptying the rest lighter cider into his own glass.
>Ahh…
>Unfortunate...
>... but not beyond reason, you suppose.
>The smug look from the cyan mare on your right intensifies your disappointment somewhat, but no matter.
>You were getting a touch… over-spirited, weren’t you?
“Ohh dear, yes, how silly of me.” You reply, taking a small sip from your newly wet glass, “what energy fills us in the moment... I agree, darling.”
>Right now, as Anonymous’ wall clock chimes nine, you mentally consign yourself to a new duty.
>It’s details are thus; come hail or high water, return to Anonymous, sober, and try again, win his company like a responsible mare.
>It might take time, yes, but you had time, and you were more than willing to give it for this cause.
>You could wait.
>”Ohhh dang, is it that late!? I gatta’—I think I need’tuh, uhh… be up at five tomorrow. O-ohhhh, jeez.” Dash comments, unwisely taking a generous swig from her mug shortly before attempting to float into the air, an action that narrowly avoids being catastrophic.
>”Oh-Oookay, no-… no wiiings, haha. No wings for meeee.” She continues goofily, instead settling onto her hooves and taking several cautionary steps.
>”Nnngg, I need to get up early, too. Those crushader fillies helped me re-alphabetize the history section before close-up… and I, uhh… I think I might have to redo, uhh… all’a that.” Twilight remarks dourly, failing to lift her mug with magic and instead taking it into the kitchen in her mouth and on her own wobbly hooves.
>Thankfully you had a day off scheduled tomorrow, and were planning on taking full advantage of that.
>You didn’t know what would happen tonight, but you always liked to be prepared.
>Now that it was over, you were quite impressed with your forethought.
“Well dears, then I suppose the time has come… “ you say, sliding out of your seat to join the others.
>All you really had to do was sleep, but It would be a little uncouth to stay in your host’s home after all others had left, especially considering that he was a ‘he’ and living alone otherwise.
>You tuck the matches and ashtray back away inside your cigar box and snap the clasp shut, completing this task with no mishaps.
>Carefully, cautiously, you place the priceless cider glass entrusted to you tonight onto his table and push it towards the center to ensure there would be no accidents.
>Dash, noticing the theme of your actions, strode up to help the stallion carry in the various mugs and plates that had assisted you this evening into the kitchen, and she too acts at a careful, gradual pace.
>In very little time the living room coffee table had been cleared, and each of you had begun to collect your things.
>Twilight insisted that she dispose of the empty cider jug for him, and so to do you insist that he keep what remained of your tea bags; a kitchen was incomplete without tea on hoof, after all.
>Finally, you all collect at his door, the one that opened and started this slow-burning whirlwind of a night.
>”Oops.” Anonymous says under his breath, feigning surprise after he reached for the handle and then pulled it to no avail, turning then to face a confused Dash and shifting his intrusive foot out of the way, revealing that it was still, in fact, not locked.
>”Kidding… “ he smiles teasingly, and Dash nudges him in the side playfully with her hoof.
>As you step outside a brisk autumn breeze hits your warm face.
>The streets of Ponyville have gone mostly silent in the distance, and in the opposite direction the woodland of the Everfree ever broods, the depths of its mysteries vast, intriguing, and occasionally intimidating.
>With that fitting descriptor do you turn now to Anonymous, his frame darkened to you and bright at the back from the many flickering lights within his home.
>”Heeyy, so, uh, Twilight, I can’t really-“
>”Yesssssss.” Twilight groans preemptively, comforting the Pegasus with the knowledge that she would have a place to sleep a little closer to the ground tonight.
“Goodnight, Mr. Anonymous.“ You say, your sentiment mirrored by your companions a moment later.
>His faux-luminescent eyes observe each of you thoughtfully for a moment, his face dark and his form highlighted in the rear light.
>Though he speaks to all of you, he looks only at you when the words come.
>”Sleep tight… “


>The trek back across town is uneventful save for Dash’s consistent complaints about your speed on account of her needing to ‘use it’.
>Eventually you come to pause before Golden Oaks Library, its firm branches and moist leaves towering far overhead.
>This is where you and your chums parted.
>You exchange short goodbyes with Dash and Twilight.
>Well, Twilight anyways.
>Dash had immediately rushed inside the moment the door was unlocked.
>The purple mare looked exhausted, and if she could get into the bathroom before then, would likely sleep where she fell.
>She deserved the rest.
>She’d done a lot for ponies and non-ponies tonight, and she never once asked for a bit of thanks.
>It was one of the many reasons why you respected her so much.
>You leave her be and turn towards your own place of business; the quaint streetlamps lighting your way are as fireflies to Luna’s brilliant starfield.
>The door to your Carousel Boutique gives to your hoof, the familiar smell of home and something else inviting you inside.
>A single aromatic candle burns on the table to your right near the tall mirrors, its low light and sweet vanilla scent pleasing you and wiping away the pure blackness of night.
>Sweetie Belle, such a peach.
>You hope she didn’t stay up too late waiting for you.
>Candle in hoof, you soften your steps significantly on your way up the stairs, quietly thanking whoever designed your home with the guest bedroom on the far opposite side of the hall to the bathroom as you discreetly walk inside.
>You light the bathroom fixtures with your small candle and then leave it burning on the sink; you’ll need it when you return to the hall.
>Next, you twist the ‘hot’ knob on your tub’s faucet, and as it slowly fills you take two large cups of water to lessen the hangover you were certain to experience in the morning.
>After relieving yourself and brushing your teeth, you reach a rear leg into the water to test the temperature before eagerly melting into the warm embrace of your bathtub.
>What a day.
>Work was always work, but your evening had been quite… emotionally tiring, to say the least.
>Now that you were in such calm, unstimulating circumstances, the rest of the night felt like a daze of sound, scent and sensation; you hardly remember leaving.
>As you turn a bottle of the Lotus Twins’ signature bubble solution out into the water and nudge the tap on your tub closed you begin to recount and etch the specificities of your night into your mind.
>Meeting him, the trepidation given new flavor, your pleasant discussions and his surprising tastes.
>All of it was so fresh but already felt so far away.
>Though it was late, you regretted leaving a little.
>You could’ve listened to him tell you truths and half-truths about his homeland and his old friends and his experiences for hours on end, his prized glass nestled safely in your hooves.
>He would make a point and you would agree.
>You would tell a joke and he would laugh.
>He would pour you another drink, because why not?
>You would silently investigate his features; his mane, his lithe digits, his sharp face, his soft lips, the round of his flank and the mound of his sheath beneath his clothing… his smoldering eyes encouraging your wandering gaze with every flighty, come-hither glance…
>You shift slightly, the bubbles on the surface of your bath water bobbing about and then shifting around your hoof as it broke the surface and traveled below.
>Your hips shift slightly under the water as he closes in on your chair, filling the entirety of your vision with his form as he approaches you.
>His smell burns in your nose, lighting your brain in tiny sparks as its complexity overwhelms you, fills you.
>His eyes gleam as he asks you again what you would do to him if you could, and you set out to show him.
>Oh, how you demonstrate.
>Your foreleg shifts within the veil of water and suds pooled around your chest, and you bite your lip to stifle the sound.
>You learn too late that his reserved demeanor masks an intense need, a raw, passionate desire to have you, and he sees to it that you satisfy that need as thoroughly as it takes.
>You pant, you hot breaths popping schools of pink bubbles; he’s panting too, begging.
>Your head falls back, the stuffy aroma of the vanilla candle in such a small room lulling you deeper into your fantasy.
>Begging you.
>Begging you to kiss him, to rock your hips harder, to take his maleness deeper, to accept his seed.
>You’re making soft splashes in the water now from the vigorous movement of your hoof beneath, and your head is fogging up with need, vision blurring, so close.
>At the very precipice, when you can take no more of his body and careen towards that deep, well-deserved finish line, his teeth find your neck and he pulses inside, breeding you, flooding your deepest reaches while his teeth dangerously graze your pulse.
>As your hips jerk hard, you’re treated to the clear return of you own pleasure-stricken voice from the tiled walls, a single, familiar name filling your ears as your head goes magnificently numb.




-----> Prequel Story: Fear and Fondness (https://pastebin.com/grFxJqKR)

<----- Part 2 (Go Back): Nothing, Darling (https://pastebin.com/HPPghSi0)