It wasn't at all a regular day in Ponyville. It was too... perfect. The lilac unicorn mused about this as she sat comfortably on the side of her bed, looking contentedly out of the portcullis-like window in front of her. The musky scent of ancient books, combined with the gentle summer breeze floating in through the aperture, played with her senses.

She sighed, perfectly content. Nothing at all could ruin this mood. Her horn agreed, and sent a shower of sparks out of its end. She gasped, and shook her head, checking to make sure there hadn't been anypony around to witness that. It could have been quite embarrassing.

Her eyes darted back to the grimoire that lay open in front of her, returning to their focus: the research of magic itself. Now, as an honoured student of Princess Celestia, she had been over the idea of magic in the past, but... today, the actual nature of magic seemed to pique her interest.

'Magic has always been a part of the unicorn race, always been a part of our mindset and a part of our personal impetus to learn and to live. In fact, magic has become one of the most reliable and relied-on things by unicorns in all of Equestria. Magic stems from the heart, and from belief, and from pure emotion. Love, anger, pain, and joy are where the heart and home of magic truly lies.'

The eloquence of this made Twilight shudder ever so slightly. She closed her eyes, letting still-retained phrases roll around in her mind. '...stems from the heart, and from belief, and from pure emotion...' '...love, anger, pain, and joy..' Each syllable seemed custom-made for her personal enjoyment. Perhaps she should start writing poetry. How do words rhyme again? -

The pink mare awoke to the darkness, cool and crisp. She awoke slowly, but breathlessly; as though the dream had pressed the air from her lungs. There was little to think about as her drowsiness deteriorated. She'd been having these dreams, on and off, for a good four months now.

The dreams weren't... nightmares; they weren't particularly frightening. What was truly frightening, though, was the perspective. These dreams of hers had always taken place from Twilight's perspective, and Pinkie experienced the same excitement towards literature and the same drawn-out thoughts that Twilight would have. Or that she assumed Twilight would have.

Bibliophilia wasn't high at all on Pinkie's entertainment list, and she had never been as thoughtful or intelligent as Twilight. She admired that about Twilight - her ability to actually grasp concepts, both abstract and realistic. Math, science, language, magic, psychology, theoretical physics - it was all contained in a mind the same size of Pinkie's.

But, although it may put off anypony else, Pinkie took comfort in the idea that another mare her age could amass so much knowledge and discernment. She'd tried her best in the past to be calm, nonchalant, focused, knowledgeable - but it had never worked out well for her.

Twilight was Pinkie's sturdy ground. Pinkie knew that somepony else could easily ignore her, or disown her, or, if they were as intelligent as Twilight, rub their knowledge in her face. But that seemed impossible for Twilight; she'd never been rude or insulting to Pinkie. It was just in her nature to be a kind soul. And Pinkie loved it.

Pinkie leaned forward in her bed, stretching out so as to wake herself more. She always got up before the sun... it was just part of her character to be active all day round. And before that could happen, she had to stop being sleepy.

In the darkness of her room, she debated with herself whether or not to wake up at all today. She had nothing to do anyways... she was off from work, she had no appointments set up, and it wasn't even enough of a holiday to throw a party.

She sighed, and laid across her bed on her stomach. Sleep no longer came easily to her; she wasn't tired anymore.

With a few groans, she slid herself out of the bed and landed unsteadily on her hooves, shaking her head back and forth to keep her mane out of her eyes. She walked slowly to the bathroom, her eyes half-lidded.

Pinkie knew she would think of something eventually, even if it was just walking around town. Maybe she could organize enough ponies to play a game of soccer or something (sports had always been one of Pinkie's few skills).

It was hard to wake herself up in the mornings, recently... the temptation of sleep often overwhelmed her. But not today. After a few moment's consideration, she decided she could go over to Twilight's that afternoon. After all, not even Twilight could study all day, right? That means she had to have free time.

Pinkie was standing at the sink, trying with difficulty to curl the back of her mane - it straightened out overnight. Suddenly, an odd, confusing thought popped into the back of her mind. Why am I thinking about Twilight so much?

Just like every other strange thought to enter her head, she was prepared to laugh at it and shake it off, but... she couldn't. Not with this one. Because, as she thought about it, she began to realize it was true. She was hanging out with her more, trying to talk to her more, and she'd even begun dreaming about her.

Maybe she just liked being around her. No... it was more than that. She loved being around Twilight; she loved doing everything with her. She loved her ideas, her wittiness, her skill at magic, her... voice, her eyes...

Pinkie shook her head again, trying to ignore it - but there wasn't much to ignore. Just one little thought in the back of her head.

The pink mare sighed and closed her eyes. She walked back over to her bed and sat down, her mind feeling as though it was closing in on itself. Why did she have to think about this so early in the morning? If it were later in the day, she may have been able to understand it more easily, or be more comfortable with it, or at least handle it more adequately. But now, she felt disturbed and frightened by the idea.

Could she... how would she... so many thoughts and ideas flew into her head at that moment that she couldn't do much except attempt to clear her mind. How would she be able to work through it? It. It. It was something, wasn't it? She refused to allow the word into her mind. It was silly. It probably wasn't true. It wouldn't work anyways.

She sighed once more and fell back onto her bed. Thinking into the future wasn't one of her strong suits.

I guess I'll just figure this whole thing out when I visit the library this afternoon, she thought, rolling over on the soft, still-warm bed. For now, I'm just gonna relax.

She left the townhouse smelling like cupcakes and carrying a full covered basket in her mouth. She hoped the cupcakes would make up for her not making plans in advance.

The sun was bright and warm, and the onset of fall was negated for a moment or two, and she smiled, skipping cheerfully down the centre road of Ponyville. Even though all the shops were closed for the holidays, most of the other residents of Ponyville were out and about, having a walk down the cobble stone just because it was such a nice day.

The library wasn't too far from Pinkie's apartment (recently acquired and broken in with an excellent party), so she arrived at the heavy wooden door of the treehouse soon after she left. She knocked twice on it, expecting Spike to answer as he always did.

However, Pinkie was greeted only by silence. Since it was, of course, a public library, the door was left slightly open. Pinkie nudged through the crack and walked slowly into the main room, that faintly-familiar smell reaching her instantly. She walked over to the desk, covered in scrolls and papers and thick books (some in languages she couldn't even recognize), with a little brass bell and a well-written sign reading "Ring For Assistance" in lavender ink.

Whenever Pinkie was in the library, which, granted, was not often, she felt comfortable, like she was at home. It was warm, friendly, lived-in, and... something else she couldn't place. She assumed that Twilight kept the place neat, which was true, but now she began to wonder whether the feeling of comfort was something more than just the atmosphere.

Right then, though, Pinkie wasn't feeling comfortable at all. She hadn't felt comfortable the entire day, ever since that little thought went off in the back of her mind. But, as Pinkie Pie, she had instituted a name for herself, and refused to go against it. She had to give off an aura of comfort and joy. It was her shining characteristic.

The library was silent; but, of course, she was only in the lower level. She walked slowly up the mahogany flight of stairs, pausing to regain her self-control. If the idea she'd had that morning was correct... she didn't want to think about it. In fact, perhaps today wasn't a good day to drop by the treehouse. Perhaps she should just turn back and make plans instead of just showing up. Halfway down the stairs, she felt the basket in her mouth and scowled at herself. You're just being nice, Pinkie. Follow through. What's the matter with you?

With this, she turned back and trotted up the steps.

Twilight had been re-shelving books since Spike had left earlier for ink. The walnut ink had gone bad, and since they'd found it out, Twilight had looked through twelve instructional and informative books on ink, but still didn't really understand why or how. That dropped her morale slightly.

When she heard the door open, she didn't have the patience to turn her head around to greet the visitor; besides, she assumed it would be Spike.

"You're back early, Spike," Twilight said, still not looking at the visitor. "I thought it would take you l-" She turned. "Oh. Uh, hi, Pinkie."

"Heya, Twilight!" Pinkie said, dropping the basket. "I brought cupcakes!" she said triumphantly, motioning with her hoof to the wicker basket.

"That's great, Pinkie," Twilight replied in an almost-convincing voice. "Not to be rude, but, uh, what brings you around? What's, um, what's up?"

Pinkie smiled. "No reason! Just 'cause there wasn't anything else to do!"

Twilight smiled politely in return. "Well, as long as you're here, can you help me restock these books? I've been trying to organize them for the past few minutes."

"Sure!" Pinkie replied, and the pair set to work on the small pile of old books sitting in front of Twilight.

Pinkie tried to keep up chatter (and therefore keep up appearances), but noticed the stumbles she made. She could feel that she was nervous. She tried not to say anything about it, or let it show. Until, of course, she felt the warmth of a blush spread across her face, and looked quickly away, glad that Twilight didn't seem to notice.

Eventually, though, a temptation got to Pinkie. The silence was heavy, pressing on her like she was at the bottom of a lake. She began to feel a rush in her head and her chest, and glanced over at Twilight. This didn't happen the last time they saw each other, last Friday. Or did it? She couldn't remember. She didn't care.

In the relative silence of the library, she could hear her friend's breathing, and she could feel her heartbeat. Just the pulse of motion from her. She could see her out of the corner of her eye, moving individual books to their places with her magic. Her body was lean, but not particularly thin; near perfection. Especially when you came to her mane... it was just so smooth-looking, so silky, and the color of midnight itself - while Pinkie's wasn't the color of anything natural. Nothing natural matched the bright pink in her mane. It was just bubblegum, while Twilight's was...

There was definitely a respect for Twilight, but there was also something more. There was something that Pinkie herself couldn't really describe.

"Twilight."

"Yeah, Pinkie?"

"... When's Spike gonna be back?"

"Maybe ten minutes, at the rate he's going. Why?"

She dragged a hoof along the rug beneath her, scene after scene wildly running through her mind. And she became suddenly and frighteningly un-Pinkie.

"Oh. I - I have to go," Pinkie stuttered, making her way out of the room. "You can keep the basket -" she said before disappearing behind the light purple door of the library's second floor. Twilight cocked her head confusedly to the left, and shook her head. She'd seen enough of Pinkie to understand by now that she... just did stuff like that.

Once out of the room, Pinkie's stomach finally unclenched itself, but her heart rate was far from returning to normal. Why was she so nervous around her friend? It just became too much, she thought painedly. She paused at the bottom of the stairs, a sudden desire hitting her. There was nothing she wanted more than to run upstairs and just shout and cry and hug Twilight so hard she would pop and Celestia her head hurt. What was going on?

The word floated into her mind silently. Then the fear set in and she trotted for the door.

Author's Notes:

[Edited]