Staring at Stones

"You're being rude, Limey," You say slyly.
>She smirks at your use of her pet name.
>She had true vitriol in her eyes as she said what she did, but that's something you've gotten used to.
>Finally.
>It did take you a good while before you understood that even though she acts like an asshole sometimes, that doesn't mean she no longer loves you.
>And you've long since learned to use this against her.
>A cheeky smile grows across your face.
>You slide the plate of fish, that she so hastily dismissed, to the side so there's nothing on the table between you both.
>You lean forward to rest you elbows on the table, then rest your chin in your hands.
>Then, you just look at her.
>For a few seconds she seems to wait for you to say something, then her face slowly turns into confusion.
>As many times as you use this trick on her, you'd think she would learn to recognize when you're doing it.
>Then again, its possible she LETS you get away with it.
>Limestone leans back in her chair and crosses her hooves, staring you down as she does.
>You just look back at her.
>You like to take these moments to study her eyes. Taking note of the exact color of lime green her eyes are. You're confident you could pick that hue out of a line up of a thousand different limes.
>You casually shift your arms to cross them flat on the table, then lean your head down on them.
>Looking up at Limey, you see her cute little ears start to twitch. You never fail to notice the perfect way one of them peaks out from beneath her mane.
>You have to take special care not to change your smile to one of admiration, or this whole thing won't work; and it seems you've almost got her. You see those ears of hers start to fall. Slow enough not even she could tell. She's even loosing some of the sternness in her eyes already.
>Things are moving quicker than usual.
>"Anonymous! What do you want?!" Limestone breaks the silence. Her voice hard and demanding. But she doesn't look away. She can't, that would be admitting defeat.
>That's almost word for word what she said last time you did this too.
>She once said the same exact thing six times in a row. You're goal as of late has been to reach the double digits.
>You let out a sigh and keep looking up at her, "Oh nothing, Limey."
>She starts to softly gnaw on her bottom lip.
>"Well if we're done here, I've got work to do."
>Her ears have fallen even more now. She usually gives in once they're laying flat against her head.
>You don't react.
>You just look at her.
>A breeze blows through the open window behind her that fills your nostrils with her scent. She smells like all the best parts that rocks smell like.
>Like a field of tiny stones left to cook in the sun all day. An added texture of earth, and small flowers that manage to break their way through the pebbles.
>"Dammit," She mutters under her breath.
>She starts to steal glances down at the table wherever she can.
>Now's the time to strike.
"Hey Limey?" Your voice is soft, but commanding. As much as she likes to act in charge, she snaps to attention when you need her to. And this is definitely something you need her to hear.
>"Yeah?" She's lost most of her hardness by now. She's never able to resist softening up if she looks into your eyes long enough; and if you're being honest, you're just as helpless under her gaze.
"I love you."
>Her ears press against her mane, and a faint blush lightens her face as she looks back down at the table.
>"I love you too," She says barely loud enough for you to hear.
>She isn't able to avert her eyes for long. She looks back up at you, with her lime green eyes that say more to you than you'll ever hear come out of her mouth. You know that look, from that mare, is all you'll ever need.

~fin~