Drunken Hearted Pt. 6: Drunk Afternoon

>How many times must you unroll the map of the past?
>Without a doubt, it is no longer easy to confirm your location now than it was before.
>Waiting for the night in this sleepless city is all you know.
>Summer is now over…gone without a trace as the concrete locks in the outside chills.
>It is midday and already you are drunk.
>The alcohol does not steep the pain in your weary heart.
>Who are you? Where are you? What do you want?
>The answers you seek did not appear at the bottom of your third glass. Or your fourth. Or even your fifth.
>You return to your room. The muted tan paint on the walls gives a neutral greeting before stumbling to the window to crack it and bask upon the sun as it begins its descent behind the sky scrapers.
>You watch the city’s center as an isolated onlooker towering above it.
>Everyone below goes about their daily lives. You wonder how many feel heartbreak like you.
>The half-freezing afternoon breeze is airy and nips at your skin.
>It has a certain aroma to it, distinct from the alcohol on your breath.
>You take it in.
>It’s not familiar to you though. For a moment you think you smell your hometown, but hang your head in disbelief.
>You turn around.
>From left to right, you proceed to look around at your unfamiliar surroundings.
>You heart aches; you long for compassion and stability from some pony.
>You run your fingers through your frazzled hair. You just want to go back to Ponyville and forget this mess…you just want to be back with Rarity and hope that things can continue where they left off, before her fame struck.
>It’s difficult to resist the urge to go to Minuette’s room, but it’s for the best. You’ve shown good restraint so far.
>The two of you know it’s something that can’t be; she has someone that loves her deeply in a far-away city…and you have Rarity.
> She should be arriving back at the room soon…you hope.
>You walk to your jacket hanging in the small hotel closet.
>After checking the pockets you pull out the photograph that Lyra took of you and Minuette a few nights ago.
>You unfold if and look the blue unicorn that’s wrapped in your arms. The fold of the photo runs over both of your faces
>She looks happy, and you look happy too.
>In fact, you were happy that night…the happiest you’ve been in a long time.
>The door knob turns behind you, but you barely notice it in your deep thought.
>”Anon! Help me with these bags?”
>You turn around and see Rarity.
Sure.
>You walk to her and stuff the photo back into your jacket.
>Rarity enters the room and instantly heads for the bed and plops down on it, not even bothering to remove her expensive sunglasses.
>She groans in exhaustion while you throw the luggage in the corner.
>You stare at her motionless body on the bed for a moment before going to the window and shutting it.
>Still, Rarity is lifelessly motionless.
>You join her on the bed and turn on the TV.
So…
>Rarity slowly raises her head and looks at you.
Have fun?
>She sinks her face back into the mattress.
>”I suppose so. Ugh, these Manehattanites do not know a THING about fashion.”
>Rarity calms herself. She removes her glasses and scarf and moves her head to the top of the bed and rests her head on the fluffy hotel pillows.
>”No matter…at least it’s over for a while.”
Yeah.
>You flip around the channels.
>Rarity looks at you. You don’t look into her eyes, but you can feel her gaze boring a hole on the side of your skull.
>Rarity huffs and yawns as she hops off the bed and walks toward the closet.
>You don’t pay her much attention though; you’re dazed and still a little confused.
>She rustles in the clothes before walking into the bathroom to run a bath.
>You sit on the bed staring at the flickering screen before feeling guilty.
>Slowly you rise to your feet and walk to the bathroom where Rarity is slowly submerging herself into the steamy waters.
>Her snowy coat is soon moistened as she lets out a gentle moan of relaxation.
>You stand in the doorway and watch her bathe.
>Then something happens that you didn’t expect.
>The water churns as Rarity leans over the edge of the tiled bathtub and removes one of your cigarettes from the pack.
>You cock your eyebrow. Rather than say something, you just watch the odd turn of events unfold.
>You aren’t sure of your speech capabilities yet, either.
>Rarity attempts to light the paper stick in midair with her magic, but is having some obvious difficulties.
Here, let me help.
>Rarity seems to jump a little at the sound of your voice. Either you’re slurring and don’t quite notice it or you startled her.
>You knee down beside her, getting your knee wet from a puddle she made, and take the cigarette in your mouth.
>You spark the lighter and take a gentle drag off the cigarette and release the small trail of smoke into the air above the two of you before handing it to Rarity.
>She looks a little embarrassed before taking it into her mouth.
Pick something up?
>Her eyes wince at your words.
>”Err…yes, just a little bit.”
>You tighten your mouth into a strange shape of disappointment and teasing joy.
>Rarity takes a trail of tiny successive puffs that result in a couple of throaty coughs.
>The alcohol makes it difficult to hide your laugh.
>Rarity looks at you sternly.
>You clear your throat to release the remaining laughter.
Here.
>Rarity relinquishes the cigarette to your hand. You bring it to your lips and take a drag off of it.
>Rarity examines your technique while you speak to her out of the corner of your mouth.
Inhale it, let it sit in your mouth…don’t puff, you’ll get headaches and stuff.
>You blow the smoke away while placing it in Rarity’s mouth.
>She tries to recall your instructions and takes a long drag before erupting in a coughing mess that makes waves in the bath water.
>You take the cigarette from her lips and puff again before handing it back to her.
Just try again.
>Rarity does, and gracefully blows the smoke from her curled lips in a very feminine matter.
>”Thanks, Anon…I’m new to this.”
Well, you should really stop now…it’s a bad habit.
>You turn the words around that Rarity has told you so many times before.
>Rarity grumbles gently as you puff.
>The two of you seem to be enjoying your indirect kisses between your exchange of the diminishing cigarette.
>”I know…I’ve just been so stressed over this show though…I needed something.”
I’m always here, y’know.
>You matter-of-fact tone indicates that your brain isn’t working correctly.
>Rarity seems a little upset at your words.
>”I…I suppose you are…”
>She takes the cigarette from your lips.
>You exhale hard.
I’m sorry. I’m not in my right mind.
>Rarity doesn’t seem to be either.
>She looks up at you through her half-wet mane.
>Her eyes are unlike you’ve seen them before.
>If you’d have to guess, it seems to be a mixture of watery sadness, stress, guilt, love…
>Lust.
>Rarity repositions herself in the tub and leans into you.
>You rest the cigarette on the ashtray and lean into the wet mare.
>Her lips meet yours halfway. You rest your hand on the back of her head and pull her closer to deepen the kiss.
>The splashing water echoes in the tiled room as she moves closer.
>Rarity’s tears land on your face as she continues to kiss you.
>She climbs out of the tub and into your arms.
>The water splashes all over the floor.
>Rarity is slowly backing you toward the door but suddenly stops and looks at you.
>She licks the saliva off of her lips as you stare back at her, slightly dumbfounded.
>”S-sorry, Anon…I was…weak…”
>She eyes your shirt.
>It’s drenched.
>”Uhm…Anon…you don’t want to catch a cold…”
>You look down at your wet attire.
I guess I wouldn’t want that…
>Rarity shakes herself off and slowly trots to the bed.
>For a moment you sit on the floor holding your aching head.
>What is going on?
>You stand on your wobbling legs and stumble into the bedroom.
>Rarity stares back at you, her eyes heavy with a longing desire.
>”Take me…”
>You gulp. Did you hear her correctly?
>You stumble to the bed, an action made difficult by the spinning room.
>You slip under the covers with Rarity as the two of you begin to exchange kisses as your hand makes its way to her flank. Her coat is still wet and cold from the outside air that still lingers in the suite.
>You look into her eyes.
>This isn’t the Rarity that’s you’ve been with the past months. This doesn’t seem to be the old Rarity either.
>You aren’t in your normal state of mind either, though.
>You give into her desires. You kiss her moist neck…her mane placing droplets of water on your cheeks and neck.
>Rarity’s tail flicks under the heavy comforter, indicating her desires without doubt.
>”Anon…I love you…”
>You don’t respond.
>You trail your kisses down her neck before making eye contact with her again.
>With a bite of her lip and a surge of her magic, Rarity removes your pants.
>You feel sick. The alcohol and rush of blood to your body is setting your heart aflutter.
>You feel hot. Rarity takes advantage of it and lowers her flank onto your member.
>This is going in a direction you weren’t expecting.
>Her wetness allows her to slide you into her marehood with ease.
>She winces at your girth but soon starts thrusting on top of you…her quiet moans echoing in the room.
>You lay there as your mind begins to wander.
>You slowly forget what it happening.
>Rarity pounds onto you, jiggling the alcohol in your stomach.
>She bends down to kiss you as she sinks your entire phallus into her.
>Rarity presses her lips together to stifle her moans. Her eyes begin to roll back in ecstasy as she enjoys your girth.
>Her breath smells of ash from the cigarette.
>You stare at the ceiling as she begins sucking your neck.
>She repeats your name as her thrusts become deep, your skin slapping against her moistened coat.
>Rarity’s mare fluids run onto your legs and genitals.
>Her speed increases, her thrusts much more rapid and successive.
>You lay on the bed staring at the tan ceiling, arms at your side.
>You don’t know how to feel right now. Rarity is engrossed in her act of ecstasy…but you don’t feel any love in the act taking place.
>After a couple more deep thrusts, Rarity nears her orgasm.
>”Anon, I…”
>With a few powerful contractions around you, a few exclamations to Celestia, and a series of rapid pants, Rarity finally rolls off of you in exhaustion.
>Rarity kisses your cheek as she throws the covers over you.
>You continue to stare at the ceiling, just as you did when Rarity started.
>”Mmm…that was wonderful…”
>Rarity pecks your cheek and flips the TV channel.
>You lie there in surprise...or shock, rather.
>You don’t feel anything; no pleasure, no joy, no anger…just numbness. You’re hollow.
>Your blink-less eyes stare at the same point on the ceiling.
>”I love you, Anonymous.”
>Her voice is happy and slightly tired, expected after her actions.
>You take a bit to reply to her, mostly gathering the correct response to her.
>Not that it’d matter if you never replied to her at all.
Yeah.
>Rarity rolls over and fluffs her pillow, ready for sleep.
>Still you stare at the ceiling, and continue to stare for hours.
>What just happened? Was that love? Was that what you’ve been waiting all this time for? Rarity’s affection?
>Perhaps it’s just the alcohol still taking effect over your heart.
>By now, Rarity is sleeping.
>Just as well, it’s 11:00.
>You turn your head to Rarity. She’s curled up with her blanket facing the wall in a deep slumber.
>You sit up in the bed and hang your head and look at the sleeping unicorn.
>You have no words for her, not that she’d hear anyways.
>In just under a week, Rarity has changed more than she did in the past few months combined.
>This is all too fast…too much to handle all at once. You heart has whiplash.
>Your stupor is slowly washing away, making thinking clearly a little easier.
>You rub your eyes and forehead and look to Rarity.
>A sharp sigh.
Rarity...?
>She continues to sleep.
>As expected.
>You remove the covers and get dressed in your still wet clothing.
>A quick turn of the handle, a pres of the button, a few seconds and your back at the lounge.
>It’s late at night, barely anyone is here.
>A few lone business ponys drinking alone with their loosened ties.
>You sit at the bar and stare at the finely stained wood.
>One drink later, you feel nothing.
>Two drinks later, you still feel hollow and empty.
>On the fourth one you decide it’s futile to continue.
>On your fifth drink you decide to stop.
>You occasionally look to the elevator in a weary haze.
>A part of you wishes Minuette would walk through those shiny metal doors and save you from your thoughts.
>Another part of you wants to take it to the lobby and walk to the train station and leave this horrible place and its memories behind you forever.
>You stare at your half-melted ice in the bottom of your glass.
>Everyone changes. Nothing is ever the same.
>Maybe it’s some kind of strange drunken wisdom you’re telling yourself…maybe it’s just the depression and loneliness.
>You swig the remaining whisky and stand at the elevator.
>Your sunken-in eyes reflect in the chromed doors.
>You’re drunk again.
>Eventually you take the elevator back to your room and watch TV until you fall asleep.