Days pass by in a blur of activity, though I feel slightly disconnected from it all; in spite of the fact that we talk every single day, the subject of the kiss never seemed to come up again. Idly, I wondered if, while he was off gallivanting through Equestria and parts beyond, he was trying to find beings to practice on. For some reason, I find that thought amusing.

        Part of me thinks that it's a good thing we haven't talked about it. If such a thing were even possible with somepony who rarely, if ever, shares their innermost thoughts, Discord strikes me as being even more guarded than normal. My read on him is that there is something weighing on his mind, but he isn't sure how to bring it up. Or if he even should bring it up. His wild red eyes offer me nothing to go on, however, and his whimsical changes of mood made it difficult to gauge what was really happening in that turbulent mind of his.

        Finally, during afternoon tea at my cottage, the dam burst. It was probably just as well Angel Bunny wasn't around because this was going to be awkward enough as it was without him getting in the way, laughing his little furry head off. “Fluttershy,” Discord said, scratching the end of his nose with a talon, “kissing, according to my own research, is far more than just a gesture of friendliness, isn't it?

        I took a deep breath because I suddenly felt as though all of the oxygen had been sucked from the room, and I needed a couple of seconds to figure out what the best tack would be to take. On the one hoof, I certainly wanted him to know how I felt, even if he didn't understand or feel the same way. Given the vast differences in our ages, backgrounds and even our species, I wasn't going to place too many bits on him magically wanting to be with me in kind.

        On the other hoof, if he really was so naïve, so inexperienced that he had to do research on what a kiss meant, then I didn't want to feel as though I was taking advantage of him. Discord was still a friend, still somepony who was technically in my care, and that meant I had certain duties that I considered sacred toward him.

        That somepony could be more innocent than I am? It scarcely bore thinking about. Especially one so ancient. My heart went out to him as I realised the depth of his isolation all these years. “It can be,” I finally said, taking a sip of tea while I gathered my thoughts. “For some, it's a greeting. For others, it's a way to convey intimacy.”

        “And there are different types of kisses for different situations.”

        “Yes,” I replied, though he wasn't really asking me a question, just thinking out loud. At the best of times, even with my friends, I always felt as though I was walking on eggshells around them; with Discord, that feeling was amplified a million times over. I knew well his capriciousness by now, and I didn't want to be on the wrong end of it. Still, though, I have a duty of care toward him and that meant explaining often painful things to him.

        Love, if he ever wanted to experience it with a pony or any other being in Equestria, was a painful, messy, tricky business.

        “What kind of kiss did you give me?” he asked, an inquisitive expression colouring his muzzle. Strange how, despite the odd assembly of features, he managed to look so handsome.

        “Friendly.” My resolve, it seemed, had decided to abandon me.

        “I see.” He took a bite of his cucumber sandwich without enthusiasm.

        “You're disappointed?” I asked carefully, trying to keep my face neutral.

        “No, not disappointed,” he replied, his claw hovering inarticulately in the air, as if trying to draw the words he wanted, needed, out of the ether. How did one explain what one could not understand? “When you kissed me, I felt something. It was similar to the pang I experienced when you walked away from me after I turned Ponyville to snow. Only a hundred billion times worse.”

        Okay, I wasn't expecting that, and I felt a shudder of self-loathing. A familiar sensation. “I'm sorry,” I said meekly, not realising the suffering I had put him through.

        “Why?”

        “It sounds awful!”

        “Not at all, dear.” Discord frowned, the realisation dawning on him that he wasn't making himself entirely clear to me. “That pang was the slivers of friendship being drawn from my pitiful excuse for a heart. The kiss amplified them. Is that possible? An exceptionally powerful form of friendship?” He cocked his head to the side, studying me intently. Just as Twilight Sparkle sought Princess Celestia's guidance whenever she was confronted with an insoluble problem, so, too, did Discord look to me for the same.

        Discord. Lord of Chaos. Ageless, eternal, all-powerful. Looked to a timid pegasus for advice.

        Despite having about as much magic as a blade of grass, I had somehow acquired my own friendship student. What a crazy world we lived in. “It is possible, Discord,” I said, offering him a small smile, knowing that it was now or never. “We call that feeling love. It's a powerful connection between ponies, one not easily broken. It can be a source of tremendous strength to us, but it also has the capacity to be one of our greatest weaknesses.”

        He looked at me, and it pained me to see that he hadn't quite gotten the sense of what I was saying. Discord, I think, was looking at this as if it were a problem to be solved, a loose bit of chaos that had him temporarily stymied and needed to be worked out. “So. What do I do with it?”

        “What does your own intuition tell you to do?”

        Discord's eyes closed and he was silent for a moment. “It tells me … it tells me that I need to be close, physically, emotionally, spiritually, to the pony that I have this feeling for.”

        I feel his appendages settle upon on my shoulders; when I looked up from behind my mane, all I could see before me was red. A colour that I had always associated with evil, with bad tidings. Well, no longer. Now it was the colour of beauty, of longing, of wanting.

        “Is this close enough?” I asked, feeling his warm breath tickling my face.

        “No,” he replies, his lips touching ever so softly against mine. “We need to be closer still.”