After completing her own nightly routine – she couldn't be bothered with a shower or bath at the moment, so she'd settled for using cleansing wipes to get rid of the worst of the dirt – Fluttershy followed Twilight into the bedroom, a forlorn look aimed at the unicorn's flank; she felt her tiredness evaporate as a familiar feeling washed over her, and the pegasus found herself chewing on her bottom lip to prevent herself from sighing out loud. Empathy. On the one hoof, it's a great feeling because it helps me to understand my animal friends, but on the other … it makes me feel responsible whenever things go wrong, even if I'm not to blame. She turned the lantern off and the room was plunged into darkness but for the soft waxy moonlight spilling in through the still-open curtains, casting everything within it in the aura of a pale whiteness.

        Twilight was doing her best to to brush the wasted evening off as if it were no biggie, but all that Fluttershy could see was the effort. In a way, it was a terrible burden to know somepony so well that, even when they were trying to spare you from suffering the pain of hurt feelings, you could see their disappointment as if it were a tangible thing sharing the room with you. The unicorn was many things, but she was not a liar, nor was she particularly adept at masking her emotions. Those big, soulful mulberry-coloured eyes of hers spelled out her inner turmoil in block capitals as she crawled morosely into bed, the springs giving a pitiful creak of protest as they acclimated themselves to her weight.

        Perhaps it's the reason that you and I are so compatible? It's a way of life that's all too familiar to me. On numerous occasions, Fluttershy knew that her passive nature had forced her to still her tongue when it was imperative that she speak up; her friends were left frequently frustrated by this behaviour, and she was doing her best to become more assertive, but it was a long and winding path. She owed it to Twilight to show her the same consideration that she had so often been given. “Twilight,” she said kindly, softly easing herself into the bed next to the unicorn and placing a gentle hoof on her shoulder, “you know that you don't have to hide your feelings from me, right?”

        “I'm not hiding anything, Fluttershy,” Twilight replied, just a little bit too pointedly as she continued stare in the direction of the muted brown wall opposite, subtly shifting herself just out of the pegasus' reach. “I'm just tired, okay? I'd like to get a little bit of sleep so that I'll have a relatively clear mind when I write tomorrow's Friendship Report for Princess Celestia.”

        “Can we just talk for a second, please?” asked Fluttershy, trying not to betray just how hurt she was by Twilight's evasive demeanour. She didn't know much about relationships, but one thing that she'd always heard was the oft-repeated maxim: never go to bed angry.

        Through a clenched muzzle, Twilight said huffily, “Fine,” and rolled on to her back, folding her forelegs over her chest as she did so.

        Fluttershy felt a sense of relief that, in the darkened room, Twilight wouldn't be able to see her rolling her eyes at the unicorn's intransigence. She wanted to reach out to stroke her mane tenderly, or to hold her hoof, but she resisted these urges, knowing that they would not be welcomed at the moment. “Things didn't go how you'd planned for them to go tonight, did they?” Fluttershy asked delicately.

        “Hey, when do my plans ever go to plan?” replied Twilight, the bed rocking slightly as a bitter laugh filled the room. “Tartarus, you could probably fill an entire book up with all of my crummy, half-baked ideas.”

        “I'm just saying, I know how disheartening it can be when you've put a lot of effort into something and it doesn't go like how you'd expected it.” Fluttershy gave Twilight a sideways glance. “Especially for you.”

        Twilight quickly flipped around, getting her legs enmeshed in the covers as she did so, and looked Fluttershy in the eyes. The moonlight streaming in through the window seemed to give her beryl eyes a soft glow, and she found it difficult to maintain her ire when she gazed into those moist, tender orbs. “What do you mean, especially for me?” she asked faintly.

        Blushing lightly, realising that her words hadn't been the most tactful, the pegasus replied, “Well, I mean, you're so used to making a plan, sticking to it, and then seeing it through to its conclusion. You, uh, you find it bothersome when things-”

        “-When I don't get my own way? Is that what you're trying to say?” Twilight asked, one eyebrow raised along with her hackles. Her jaw tensed. “Twilight Sparkle's just some spoiled little unicorn brat, huh?”

        “That's … not exactly how I'd have put it.” Fluttershy groaned inwardly, feeling like an even bigger idiot – an even bigger failure – than usual. Unbidden, memories of Flight School, of the taunting bullies, came to mind, reminding her of just how useless she actually was. A tiny internal voice said, “See, this is precisely why you should just keep your big, dumb mouth shut.”

        “Oh, Celestia,” the unicorn said, exhaling sharply when she registered the expression of hurt writ large on Fluttershy's moon-bathed face. Feeling like a monster, she reached toward the pegasus, who was on the verge of tears, and put her forelegs around her neck. “Fluttershy, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you like that just now. Yes, I'm annoyed at how things went tonight, but that's absolutely no excuse for my behaviour. Things didn't go how I'd pictured them, I'll admit, but there'll be plenty of other days. I just-”

        Fluttershy felt her ears pricking up in interest as Twilight trailed off. “Just what, Twilight?”

        “Nothing. Forget I said anything, please?”

        “Twilight, if something is bothering you, even if it's something that you think will hurt me to know, you need to tell me. If I've done something wrong-”

        “-You haven't.”

        “Then, what is it?”

        For a few moments, there was only the sound of their breathing; Twilight felt little pricks of moisture bubbling away under her eyelids, and a whole catalogue of words were birthed and destroyed in her throat, preventing her from giving expression to the totally selfish thoughts that filled her mind. “Sometimes, just sometimes, I feel like you take better care of the animals around Equestria than you do of me.”

        “Twilight Sparkle!” Fluttershy said adamantly, her voice laden with shock that the unicorn could even think such a thing of her. “You should know by now that you are the most important animal in the world to me.”

        A peal of musical laughter rang out. “I'm just being silly, aren't I?” Twilight asked, dabbing at her wet face with her hooves.

        “If it helps,” Fluttershy said, consoling her with a gentle smile, “I've felt the exact same way as you have at times.”

        “Oh?”

        Fluttershy nodded, a long strand of pink hair falling over her eyes. “When we first got together and we spent ages talking about our respective foalhoods, the way you used to go on about Princess Celestia kinda gave me the impression that … well, that you had a thing for her.”

        “A thing? For Celestia? Princess Celestia?”

        Again, a nod, and an abashed smile with it into the bargain.

        “That's crazy!”

        “Well, I know that now.” So much of Twilight's life had – and still did, to an extent – revolved around the ruler of Equestria; it had been she who had recognised the unicorn's awesome magical potential, and had arranged for her to study at a special school for those so gifted. From the glowing terms by which she referred to her, from the way that she revered her every word, it was easy to suspect that she might harbour deeper feelings for Princess Celestia beyond their purely mentor/student status. Still, Fluttershy was glad to know that she wasn't the only one capable of feeling jealousy. “But for a time, I was so incredibly envious of her. I wished … I wished that you would talk about me the way you did her before I realised that it was pointless trying to compete with a goddess.”

        “Fluttershy, there is no competition here,” Twilight Sparkle said in an exasperated tone of voice, wondering just how long the pegasus had been holding on to this angst. “As wonderful and as powerful as Princess Celestia is, she is not you, okay?” The unicorn leaned forward and pressed her lips to Fluttershy's nose, causing her to turn a fetching shade of crimson at the gesture. “You're so incredibly beautiful, and sweet, and kind, and smart, and just … you're perfect. Celestia might raise the sun that warms Equestria, but you're the sun that warms my heart.”