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Organised by
RogerDodger
Word limit
400–750
Don't Say It
It was Rarity's voice that pulled Spike from his dream.
"Spike?! You're the rampaging dragon?" she shrieked.
They were high up in the sky, and they were falling. The jagged mountainside was far below, but it was rushing up to meet them. They were both about to die.
Spike screamed, and Rarity screamed along with him.
He was still just a kid, and his life was already over. His long-time crush was going to die, too. He could vaguely remember the details of what he'd done, but he knew it was all his fault. At least he wouldn't die a monster. Rarity's friendship had saved him from that. She had redeemed him. He had only a few moments left, so it was now or never.
"Rarity? I need to tell you something!" he shouted, and Rarity stopped screaming. "Just in case we don't make it! I've always sort of had a crush—"
Her hooftip gently tapped against his upper lip, and Rarity's eyes streamed with tears. She didn't want him to say it. Her smile told him everything. She already knew.
But of course she did, Spike realized. How couldn't she? He liked to pretend his feelings were some kind of secret, but they were obvious to everypony.
Then, the unthinkable: they were plucked from the air by Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy. Somehow, they had survived! Rarity gave him a kiss afterwards, and Spike was very happy.
But later that evening, he was unable to sleep. They were both about to die. Why wouldn't she let him say it? It didn't make any sense.
Spike knew he was still young, and his crush was an unrealistic fantasy. However, someday he'd be older, richer, and have adult interests and hobbies. He would become somepony worth loving. He'd do it for her.
Spike stood up straight and adjusted his tie with his tail. The door opened.
"Why hello, Spike! My, don't you look dashing today," said Rarity, looking up to her old friend. "Might I ask what the occasion is?"
Spike smiled and pulled out the bouquet of roses from behind his back. "Hay Rarity! I got off work early today, and I was wondering if you might want to go—"
A soft tap pressed against his upper lip as Rarity held her hoof there. Although the touch was very delicate, it held all the stopping power of a basilisk's gaze.
"Darling, you are so sweet. You'll always be my little Spikey-wikey," said Rarity, as she reached up to kiss him on the cheek. "And these look positively delicious, thank you so much!"
Rarity took the flowers from him and closed the door. It took Spike a minute of standing there in silence before he decided to walk away.
Rarity's mascara ran black tracks down her delicate white cheeks. Yet even in moments like these, her beauty shined. She still looked as young as a mare half her age.
Spike carefully held her hair back as she cried into his shoulder.
"It just isn't fair!" she bawled. "Those stupid, stuck-up stallions are all the same..." Rarity reached over a bunch of crumpled, blackened tissues and grabbed a photo of herself with the unmentionable scoundrel, and violently tore it up. Then she resumed sobbing against her friend.
"You're too good for them," said Spike. "None of them know how to treat a lady. I mean, if it were me, I would—"
His face fell when he felt the familiar tap to his lip. Looking down, he saw Rarity had stopped crying long enough to wait for his gaze and shake her head back and forth. He sighed and nodded, then held her closer in his arms as the tears returned to her eyes.
"There's not much to say that the Princess of Friendship hasn't already said," said Spike, standing at the head of the throng who had gathered before his friend's crystal casket. "Rarity touched so many lives with her generosity, mine more than most. I'm honored and humbled to have been her friend."
He paused for a moment, then added, "I will always lo—"
Maybe it was the wind, or maybe it was his nerves. But could feel the gentlest sensation brush against his upper lip. He looked down into the casket at the smiling, beautiful friend he'd spent a lifetime getting to know, in the only ways he could.
"That's all," said Spike, and then he took his seat.
"Spike?! You're the rampaging dragon?" she shrieked.
They were high up in the sky, and they were falling. The jagged mountainside was far below, but it was rushing up to meet them. They were both about to die.
Spike screamed, and Rarity screamed along with him.
He was still just a kid, and his life was already over. His long-time crush was going to die, too. He could vaguely remember the details of what he'd done, but he knew it was all his fault. At least he wouldn't die a monster. Rarity's friendship had saved him from that. She had redeemed him. He had only a few moments left, so it was now or never.
"Rarity? I need to tell you something!" he shouted, and Rarity stopped screaming. "Just in case we don't make it! I've always sort of had a crush—"
Her hooftip gently tapped against his upper lip, and Rarity's eyes streamed with tears. She didn't want him to say it. Her smile told him everything. She already knew.
But of course she did, Spike realized. How couldn't she? He liked to pretend his feelings were some kind of secret, but they were obvious to everypony.
Then, the unthinkable: they were plucked from the air by Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy. Somehow, they had survived! Rarity gave him a kiss afterwards, and Spike was very happy.
But later that evening, he was unable to sleep. They were both about to die. Why wouldn't she let him say it? It didn't make any sense.
Spike knew he was still young, and his crush was an unrealistic fantasy. However, someday he'd be older, richer, and have adult interests and hobbies. He would become somepony worth loving. He'd do it for her.
Spike stood up straight and adjusted his tie with his tail. The door opened.
"Why hello, Spike! My, don't you look dashing today," said Rarity, looking up to her old friend. "Might I ask what the occasion is?"
Spike smiled and pulled out the bouquet of roses from behind his back. "Hay Rarity! I got off work early today, and I was wondering if you might want to go—"
A soft tap pressed against his upper lip as Rarity held her hoof there. Although the touch was very delicate, it held all the stopping power of a basilisk's gaze.
"Darling, you are so sweet. You'll always be my little Spikey-wikey," said Rarity, as she reached up to kiss him on the cheek. "And these look positively delicious, thank you so much!"
Rarity took the flowers from him and closed the door. It took Spike a minute of standing there in silence before he decided to walk away.
Rarity's mascara ran black tracks down her delicate white cheeks. Yet even in moments like these, her beauty shined. She still looked as young as a mare half her age.
Spike carefully held her hair back as she cried into his shoulder.
"It just isn't fair!" she bawled. "Those stupid, stuck-up stallions are all the same..." Rarity reached over a bunch of crumpled, blackened tissues and grabbed a photo of herself with the unmentionable scoundrel, and violently tore it up. Then she resumed sobbing against her friend.
"You're too good for them," said Spike. "None of them know how to treat a lady. I mean, if it were me, I would—"
His face fell when he felt the familiar tap to his lip. Looking down, he saw Rarity had stopped crying long enough to wait for his gaze and shake her head back and forth. He sighed and nodded, then held her closer in his arms as the tears returned to her eyes.
"There's not much to say that the Princess of Friendship hasn't already said," said Spike, standing at the head of the throng who had gathered before his friend's crystal casket. "Rarity touched so many lives with her generosity, mine more than most. I'm honored and humbled to have been her friend."
He paused for a moment, then added, "I will always lo—"
Maybe it was the wind, or maybe it was his nerves. But could feel the gentlest sensation brush against his upper lip. He looked down into the casket at the smiling, beautiful friend he'd spent a lifetime getting to know, in the only ways he could.
"That's all," said Spike, and then he took his seat.