“Twilight?”

A familiar voice, if not one she really wanted to hear. She’d been dreading this. Not just for today, but every day for four years.

“Twilight, it’s me. Let me in, okay? I feel dumb talking to a door.”

Her horn flared, and the door creaked open.

“Please don’t hate me.” She whispered.

A hoof on her shoulder, and then she was being held close. “Heh. Pinkie said you’d gotten yourself all worked up about that. Thought I’d better come set you straight.”

“You…aren’t mad?”

“Nah. You make her happy. That’s what matters. Just…look after her, yeah?”

“I will.”