The rest of Ink’s morning went, to her, far slower than preferred or reasonable. It was a boring mess of math and a foreign language, of equations and conjugations. Without the support of a friend, she found these classes absolutely awful to get through, and by the time the fourth one ended, she was about ready to turn in.

The realization that the next block was lunch was not as strong as she might have hoped. Mondays were, after all, not particularly known for invigorating the average student. For as much as Ink enjoyed Canterlot High, she was still a teenager wrapped up in teenager things, and the angst of homework and tests and requirements were still boiling within her.

It was the realization of what came with lunch, and the prospect of what that would entail, that fully revitalized her, and she was skipping down the halls with just as much enthusiasm as she had when she had walked with Big Mac—though this, she did not know nor think to make the comparison.

Her skip was a nervous one nonetheless, as old feelings returned. What questions could she ask? Would any be willing to talk? She reasoned that these couples that Artifex and Rainbow had mentioned were among the nicest students in the school; surely they would not mind helping her. Still, she figured there was some sacred rule regarding the openness of the information that went with a relationship that was to be discussed between the pair themselves. Would she, an interviewer, have the right to breach it?

So caught up was Ink in this line of thinking that she did not realize she was already in the cafeteria until the sound greeted her. Well, more like interrupted her. It was loud—though that was an understatement of the criminal variety. With all the students piling in, settling down, and taking the time to relax and re-associate with friends, their voices carried enough energy to compensate for the awful, cold Monday morning to which they’d been subjected. Ink watched them from her position against the doors, saw all the colors packing in and walking around and talking and eating, and she wondered how many were in a relationship, and what they might have to say.

Too bad she was the nervous sort, and would not think to send out a survey, even an anonymous one.

Slowly, Ink began to realize that Artifex was not here, and she began to panic. She did not know where he was sitting, if anywhere, so all she could do was stand by, awkward and stiff, feeling self-conscious, even as no one paid her any attention. Crossing her arms and attempting to look casual, she could not prevent Gaige’s voice from breaking through and yelling at her mentally. “Baka, baka, baka…”

“BAKA!”

“Gah!”

And, of course, there she was; right next to her, in fact. Gaige was frowning. “Jesus, Ink. Do you really have to zone out like that?”

Ink rubbed the back of her head. “Sorry. I’m just waiting for someone.”

“Artifex, right?”

“... how’d you guess?”

Gaige smirked dangerously. “Who else would you be waiting for?”

She walked away before Ink could respond. Gaige bumped into Flash, she blushed and yelled at him, he didn’t blush, he was just smiling, and they walked away mostly together.

Still feeling slightly alone, Ink decided to get lunch. She joined the line and got a tray, walking up to the lunch lady. Something about her was familiar, with her wrinkly, green skin and wizened face with eyes that scrunched up when she smiled.

The lady scooped on some mashed potatoes. “Let me guess,” she said, in an oddly high-pitched voice. “You’re Ink Quill?”

“Huh? How’d you know that?”

“My grandson mentioned you.” The lady winked. “You might know him. Big Mac?”

“Grandson?” She put the dots together. “Oh! That means you’re Granny Smith!”

“That’s right, dearie. You’re a smart one, fer sure.”

“Oh, um, thanks?”

Granny Smith chuckled. “Don’tcha worry, little one. Mac ain’t said much about you. Just that you seem like a nice girl. And that you’re writing a little something, ain’tcha?”

“Mmaybe?” She drew the word out, unsure exactly how much to clarify.

“Mighty fine goal there. It’s nice t’see young’uns like you still having an appreciation for the arts. Too bad so many shun the profession these days. Back in my day, you were congratulated for having that dream!”

Ink refrained from mentioning the last time writing had emerged as a worthy occupation was well over a century ago. She also refrained from mentioning that, as far as she knew, it wasn’t looked down upon so much as not a huge, open market. Old people generally liked believing they were right.

“Well, nice talking to you,” she said, before moving ahead in the line. She paid for her lunch and scouted the cafeteria, again looking for Artifex.

And there he was. Somehow, he’d gotten in without her noticing, and was sitting beside that Sonata girl. He and Ink made eye contact, and after a brief moment of rumination, he raised an arm and waved her over.

She refrained from immediately sitting down, instead looking between the table and her tray, unsure what to do or say.

“Oh, so that’s Ink,” Sonata whispered not-at-all-quietly. If she wasn’t feeling self-conscious before, she certainly was now, as all eyes at the table turned to her. Thank goodness they were welcoming.

“How observant of you,” Artifex said. He offered Ink a rare smile. “Don’t worry, they don’t all bite. Sit down.”

She was still hesitant, so she turned to the other person she knew there—Rainbow Dash. There just happened to be an open spot next to her, and the athlete was quick to pat it down. “Don’t just stand there,” she said.

So Ink sat down. She tried not to bump elbows or kick legs, and that ended with her rather stiff-faced and raised-shouldered. Her mind drew a blank slate, and then tossed that slate into the cognitive trash bin. She coughed, if only to break the silence that she had created, even though in reality there was none.

She opted to look around, quickly, just to do something else. Surprisingly, the table was almost empty, and the only ones she recognized were Artifex, Rainbow, and Sonata. The girl at the far left end of Ink was dressed in a farmer’s get up, complete with overalls and a stetson; she seemed nice enough, and gave Ink an acknowledging nod.

The four people directly in front of her were very much different. First there was a pink-haired girl, whose smile, impossibly wide, contrasted the blue-skinned boy’s nervous grin. She seemed ready to burst at any second, and Ink wondered if the boy would be on the receiving end of that explosion. The other two seemed much tamer. They were an alabaster-skinned girl, whose smile was as radiant and diamonds, and a grey-skinned boy, whose own smile was soft and kind. When Ink glanced at them, the first word that came to mind was “fantastical,” and she didn’t know why.

These, she guessed, were Artifex’s friends.

Before she could even speak, Sonata suddenly stood up. “Oh, crap! I forgot; I had to go help Aria with a science thing! Shoot, she’s probably really mad! Sorry, guys, I have to go!”

She turned to Ink and rapidly shook her hand. “Nice meeting you, Ink! Sorry I have to go! Bye, now!”

She was gone before Ink even had a chance to say hello—in fact, before any of them even thought to respond. She heard Artifex mutter something low, though not unkind—probably just a quiet “Bye.”

Ink took a breath to ready herself. “Uh, hi,” she said; she mentally facepalmed.

“Hi! I’m Pinkie Pie!” the pink-haired girl exclaimed. Somehow she managed to pop up right behind Ink without her noticing. “It’s really nice to meet you, Inky!” She hugged her from behind. Ink couldn’t breathe, and she likened the hug to a stupidly stronger version of Hazel’s.

She knew Pinkie as Canterlot High’s resident party planner; she wondered if she lifted weights in her spare time. “N-nice to meet you, too, Pinkie,” she managed to wheeze out. Pinkie let go and sat back down.

“Why don’t you guys introduce yourselves?” Artifex suggested.

“Can do, Arty,” the farmgirl said. Her accent was just like Big Mac’s. “Ah’m Applejack, Ink. Nice ta meetcha.”

“Big Mac’s sister?”

“The one and only! So it is true you and he have been talking.”

“You thought he was lying?”

“Naw. Ah can detect a lie from miles away. Ah just like teasing him, y’know?”

Ink decided she did know, just now remembering her interaction with the boy a mere two classes before.

The blue-skinned boy was the next to speak up: “Hi, Ink. I’m—”

“He’s my Swifty!” Pinkie interrupted, giving the boy a tight squeeze. He briefly turned a darker blue before she released him.

“R-right. Uh, Swift Justice is the name” He gestured aimlessly, widely, sporadically. “Pinkie’s girlfriend. Boyfriend! I mean boyfriend.” He tried to save face by giggling, but he looked more confused and flustered than calm. Poor boy, Ink thought. Then Pinkie giggled and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Then the kiss traveled to his mouth, and before he could react, she was practically engulfing him in a sweet and tender moment of passion. Maybe not quite, Ink amended. She felt her cheeks flush at the display.

“And that just leaves us,” said the alabaster-skinned girl; she was—and Ink meant this objectively—by far the prettiest of them, with luscious eyelashes; her hair had been expertly coifed. “My name is Rarity, dear. A pleasure to meet you.”

“And I’m Clyde,” the boy next to her said.

“My boyfriend,” Rarity explained, and she and he took a moment to gaze into each other’s eyes, before they gave each other a quick peck on the lips. If it weren’t so cliche, Ink would have squealed; Hazel’s influence on her was incredibly massive.

“Nice to meet you. All of you,” Ink said. “Um, I’ll be honest; I didn’t think Artifex was this close to all of you.”

“What do you mean?” Rarity asked.

Ink shifted in her sat. “Well, you’re just so… easy-going with your relationship stuff. I mean, Pinkie here just kinda… made-out with Swift on the spot. Isn’t it, well, I dunno, just kinda awkward since Artifex is single?”

She paused, and turned to him. “You are single, right?”

He huffed a little. “I am, yes. I’m not bothered by it. And, besides, Applejack is single, too.”

“Which is a crying shame,” Rarity said. “You should get a boyfriend, dear. There are plenty of guys who would love to get a chance to get to know you.”

“And Ah told you and Ah’ve told Soul that Ah’m too busy with the farm to be with anybody!”

“That’s a poor excuse and you know it!”

“Hey, let’s all settle down, here,” Clyde said. “Besides, Rarity, Rainbow also is single.”

“I haven’t forgotten, dearie. You know, you and Clue could have been rather cute together.”

Rainbow shrugged. “I don’t think so. We’re better off as friends. He’s with that Aurora Veil, anyhow.”

“We’re getting off topic,” Swift said. “If I remember Artifex correctly, he said that you wanted to ask us a couple of things?”

“O-oh! Right.” Ink suddenly felt a sudden urge to fix glasses that weren’t there. She mentally slapped herself for not having written down any notes or guidelines for the questions. Wit would have to save her, here; wit she knew was fleeting at the worst moments. “Um… let’s see… Well, I guess… you can tell me how you met and, y’know, hooked up?”

“That might take a while,” said Rainbow. “Rarity loves to gloat on it.”

“I do not gloat! I just like to remind people how incredible Clyde really is!”

“Then just give the shorthand version?” Ink asked. She was already digging around her backpack for some spare notebook paper. She took it out, and returned to look for a pen, when she heard something being rolled over. Looking up, she saw it was a royal-blue pen.

She looked over at Artifex; he had a very light smile on his face. “For the moment,” he said, gesturing to the pen.

She extended her thanks by way of a nod and a grin, before taking the pen into her hand. It was heavy, but in a satisfying way. Just the right amount of weight for the right amount of words, she supposed.

Rarity was tapping her chin. “Where to begin…? Well, you could say it was all due to the hand of fate.”

Ink scrunched up her brow, and before she could stop herself, she said, “That sounds awfully cliche.” Then she realized what she’d said, and she gasped and covered her mouth. “I-I’m sorry, that just slipped out!”

Rarity momentarily fixed her with a glare, before it melted into a resigned stare. “Well, I suppose you are right, in a way,” she said, looking at Clyde. “Off paper, and I suppose in your case, on it, it does sound cliche. But love is like that, cliche at moments. And it’s the sweetest kind of cliche, wouldn’t you say, Clyde?”

Clyde nodded. “But that does beg the question: Ink, why are you asking us this? And why are you writing it down?”

Again, that blush formed. She fought the urge to look away, though her pen did rub hard against her finger. “I, uh…”

“She’s writing a romance novel,” Artifex said.

“Artifex! Why—”

“You meant to say it but you weren’t, so I said it for you. Thank me later.”

“I swear to God, Artifex, you can be just as infuriating as Gaige—”

“A romance novel?!” Rarity screeched. She shot forward, grabbing Ink by the collar of her shirt. She rocked her back and forth. “How positively exquisite! Oh, you absolutely must tell me everything!”

“Rares, let go before poor Ink upchucks her lunch,” Applejack calmly said, pressing a hand against Rarity’s shoulder. “And give the girl a moment t’speak, okay?”

“Oh! Um, my bad, Ink, dear,” Rarity apologized. “I just got… really excited from that.”

Ink rubbed her head. “It’s okay. You’re not the first person to react that way, anyhow.”

Artifex raised an eyebrow. “Hazel?”

“Who else?”

“Fair point.”

“Ooh!” Pinkie now had taken the space left behind by Rarity, and was all up in Ink’s face. She pressed her nose into Ink’s, so close and too close, and with every word she pushed Ink down and down the bench until she was nearly slipping off. “What’s it about? Is it a simple love story? Is it a romance-adventure story? Are there dragons? Are there knights? Vampires? Werewolves? Vampires and werewolves? Are they vampiric werewolves? Or werewolf vampires? How about vampiric knights and were-dragons? Ooh, are there other characters? Other romances? Camoes? Who’s your agent? Can I be your agent? Is this going to be a BlueSun kinda thing, or a BRye kinda story, with really cute and fluffy moments? Or is this going to be a Ragga and drag along and along and along? I like both, really; do you like both? You know, you should really—”

“Oh my God, is everyone in this school so easily excitable?!”

As Swift struggled to pull Pinkie back, Ink heaved an annoyed breath; her cry had not silenced her in the least, and she was still babbling on about Sonic whatever or Pyra something or Snow or Sun or what the hell she was on about. Ink pinched the bridge of her nose; she could hear Artifex chuckling, and she gave him a glare.

He didn’t let up his amused gaze. “The thing is, guys,” he said, “Ink here needs our help with writing it.”

“Sold!” Rarity shouted, still being held back by Clyde. “Ink, I will get you the best publishing agent in Canterlot if I am credited as your inspiration!”

“Not the help I was referring to,” Artifex said. “Material help.”

“What’s that mean?” Swift asked.

Ink groaned. “It means I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“You sound pretty knowledgeable right now.”

“I meant in the book! Or… not in the book. I don’t know.”

“You lost me.”

She sighed. “Yeah, well, it’s pretty weird, I guess. But, hear me out, all right?” Ink took a deep breath. “Look. I need… inspiration and motivation to write this thing. Unfortunately, I don’t quite have either.”

“You don’t?” Rarity asked. “That’s horrible! How could you not? Don’t you writers just have ideas bursting at every second?”

Ink’s sigh grew more irritable. “If that were the case, then ‘writer’s block’ wouldn’t exist.”

“You’d probably understand this feeling the most, Rarity,” Artifex said. “You’re an artist in your own right. Haven’t you had lulls in your passion?”

She tapped her chin, considering the question. “Yes, I suppose I have. Though that was because I was on the verge of some new design breakthrough. Maybe it’s the same with you?”

Ink huffed. Her breath caused a strand of her hair to fly out of her face. “If that’s the case, then I hate it. A lot.”

“Mmm. I concur with that feeling; it’s the worst in the world, I’ll have you know.”

“It’s not just not knowing where to go, though,” Ink said. “It’s knowing how to go. How to start and how to write the first word.” She was getting repetitive, and she knew this, so she decided to change course: “So, his idea was that I’d go around and interview a bunch of our school’s couples and get their thoughts on… well, love, I guess. Maybe it would strike some fanciful, creative nerve.”

“His idea?” Clyde asked. “You mean Artifex?”

“Oh, no,” Ink said, shaking her head. “I meant Big Mac.”

She heard Applejack spit out her juice drink, nearly spraying Artifex in the process. Rarity dove for cover. Rainbow laughed and laughed.

Artifex stiffly raised a napkin to his jacket, wiping away a few, stray drops. “Thanks for that, AJ,” he muttered.

“Mah brother?!” Applejack exclaimed after she’d recovered.

“Uh, yeah?” Ink rubbed the back of her head. “I mean, yeah, it’s kinda surprising. But you’re kinda responsible for that.”

“How?!”

“Your magazine stack.” Ink smirked, expecting Applejack to blush, but all she had on was a confused look. “Uh, the magazines? Cosmo, Glamour, all that stuff?”

“ ‘That stuff?’ Ah’ve never even heard of that stuff before.”

“But… you bought it.”

“Applejack? You buy that stuff?” Pinkie asked. “Well, I guess that explains why you have a hard time finding a boyfriend!”

“I don’t buy anything, consarnit!”

“Applejack, dear, really. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I sometimes take a look at it, if only for little advice here and there.”

“Doesn’t Cosmo have really weird relationship advice?” Swift asked. “Like… sex tips using ground pepper?”

Rarity heavily blushed. “That’s not—I don’t—Swift, how on Earth would you know that?”

“Scootaloo,” he grumbled. “She bought them one day for some reason and left them in the bathroom. I ate some bad burritos the night before and, well, it was the only reading material I could get.”

“Didn’t you have your phone?” Clyde asked.

“Pinkie took it.”

“That’s rough, buddy. Couldn’t even use it as toilet paper.”

“You’d be wiping your behind with trash,” Artifex quipped. “A fate worse than death itself.”

Applejack groaned. “Look, maybe Apple Bloom bought some or something. She’s been eyeing that Tender Taps, Ah think.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Ink admitted. “I mean, Mac just said he caught a passing glance of them. Didn’t tell me where, though.”

She took a bite of her lunch. It was cold; they’d been talking for so long that it was no longer delectable. Thankfully, she wasn’t that hungry. “All right, let’s get back on topic,” she said. “Um, Rarity, Clyde. Could you tell me how you guys hooked up? As best as you can remember it?”

Clyde smiled. “Well, it began with detention…”

A few minutes later, Ink had blown through an entire front sheet of paper, and was now on the back of that same piece. Scribbles that barely resembled words covered it, dipping up and down and dragging across like little strokes of creativity. Though, Ink wished she could touch that creativity, for even though there was much material given, she still felt somewhat at a lost.

At the very least, it had been an enjoyable story, interrupted by only two kisses and a few comments from the surrounding students. By the end of it, Ink felt at least relieved that she had a lot in terms of substance, despite her still feeling like she was missing something.

“You two must love each other very much,” she said. She saw Clyde, Rarity, and Artifex exchange knowing glances, and she didn’t know why, but she didn’t think it was worth asking.

“We certainly do,” Rarity agreed. “Hopefully that wasn’t too much material, Ink.”

“Actually, I think it helped a lot,” she lied through her teeth. “Just the right amount.”

“Oh, that’s good. I did enjoy telling it, so if you ever want to hear it again—”

“See?” Rainbow said. “Gloating!”

“Oh, hush up, Rainbow. Besides, I’m sure I’m not the only one who would be so willing to share.”

“What, you mean Soul? Bull!”

“Soul?” Ink asked. “Who’s that?”

“Mah cousin,” Applejack said. “Soul Writer. He’s dating Sunset Shimmer, actually.”

“Really? Where is he now?”

“From mah understandin,’ he and Sunset had to stay behind in Chemistry because they had to finish a lab. They have to do that a lot…”

Artifex smirked. “For less than stellar reasons?”

Applejack shook her head. “Nah. Soul just hates Chem and Sunset likes to help him. Though Ah wouldn’t put it past them to try an’ get some smooching in here and there.”

“Neither would I.” Seeing Ink’s confused look, Artifex turned to her. “With any luck, you’ll see them in a bit. Maybe you could ask them some more. They helped me, at least.”

Ink sensed there was more to that statement then she realized, especially since Applejack gave a strange, but somehow empathetic look. Artifex simply nodded at her.

“Right, well.” Ink harrumphed shortly. She turned to Pinkie, who was looking expectantly at her. “So… mind telling me your story?”

“Silly Ink!” Pinkie said. “Why tell you it when you can read it?”

“... you wrote it down?”

“Nope!”

Ink waited. Pinkie didn’t elaborate. Rainbow nudged her and said, “Just roll with it.”

“R-right.” Ink cleared her throat. “Um, if you don’t mind, Pinkie, could you just tell me it vocally?”

“Sure thing, Ink! Y’see, it all began a thousand years ago…”

“... and that’s how Equestria was made!”

“... You know, that’s what Gaige said when she’d finish.”

“I do know! That’s why I said it!”

Ink turned to Swift; he looked helpless. “Is any of what she just said true?”

“Aside from the first and last part? All of it, I think.” Swift rubbed his head. “Though, her version is definitely a lot more exciting.”

Ink leaned her face against the cup her hand. She sighed. “Well, I guess it’s something. Thanks, Pinkie.”

“No problemo, Inkaroonie!”

“I think I like ‘Inky’ better.”

“No problemo, Inky!”

With Pinkie’s addition, Ink had filled out two full pages of paper. Most of the notes were bulleted, seemingly nonsensical crap, but she figured she could sort it out later when she had the time. For some reason, there was a picture of a lollipop and a rainbow right in the middle, and she didn’t know where that had come from, but judging from the sudden appearance of a pen tucked away in Pinkie’s poofy hair, she had a few guesses.

Now I just need to sort this out… if I can.

“Was this helpful?” Swift asked. He seemed a little hurt. “I mean, it doesn’t look like it really was.”

“What? No, of course it was helpful!” Ink protested. “It’s just a lot, y’know?”

“Two pages of paper isn’t too much,” Artifex pointed out.

“Two pages about ‘how you got together’ is a lot for me,” she retorted. “I mean, that was like the first question. And there’s just so much!”

“Well, yeah,” Clyde said. “That’s because love isn’t just a one-page essay.”

“Obviously. I just didn’t think it was this much right off.”

Rarity fixated her with a concerned look. “Well, have you considered that you don’t have to put everything we just said into your book? Not verbatim, at the very least.”

Ink shook her head. “No can do. I have to put exactly what I want to say, and what I want to say, I think, has to come from what I learn. And that means having to write everything first, and then removing as much as I can.”

She saw that she wasn’t making much sense. She paused for a moment, trying to come up with a proper analogy. “It’s like… like putting together a puzzle. First you get all the pieces you need, and then you figure out how they go together, and maybe there’ll be pieces leftover.”

They collectively “ah’d” at that. “And it must be a mighty big puzzle,” Applejack said, “if you need all this stuff. Or at least think you need this stuff.”

“Right.” Ink rubbed her temples. “Though those pieces can be quite headache-inducing,” she mumbled.

She took a few moments to gather her thoughts. “Pinkie,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Your relationship with Swift is…” She searched for a tame word. “... really, really explosive. Metaphorically speaking.”

Pinkie giggled. “Well, I do have a party cannon.”

“And she certainly blows my mind,” Swift added.

“Okay, maybe not quite so metaphorical. And, Rarity and Clyde—” She turned to them; “—You guys have a more… fairytale-esque kind of relationship.”

“That’s a fair conclusion,” Clyde said.

“Indeed. I’d like to think it’s rather like Cinderella or perhaps Sleeping Beauty.”

She could have sworn her temples were slowing being eroded. “Well.” She licked her lips even though they weren’t dry. “It’s just—”

“Just what, dear?”

“Between yours, Pinkie’s, and Gaige’s relationships… they’re all pretty extreme. Not in a bad way! But they’re not exactly tame, y’know?”

“Tame?”

Ink was struggling. “Like, um, tame. Like, ‘ooh, I love you,’ and ‘I love you, too,’ and then they kiss and just have fun. Not like these ‘will-they-won’t-they’ scenarios, or the crazy scenarios, the out-of-this-world-strange scenarios.”

She shrugged. “I mean, deep down, isn’t love just really simple? It’s appreciate for someone else, basically. So why is your love just as it is?”

“If by simple, you mean it’s just chemicals in your brain,” Artifex said, “then I would argue that it’s not actually that simple. I mean, chemical reactions are complex, Ink. Just because you could feasibly explain love on the scientific scale, doesn’t mean it’s any less layered.”

“And Artifex brings up a good point,” Rarity said. “There’s no one type of love, Ink. There are several; several layers, as Artifex said.”

“Like an onion!” Pinkie piped up. They all groaned. “What? Onions have many layers, too!”

“Anyway, these layers of love all are love either way. Certainly, you can give them names, you can give them titles. But they’re still love nonetheless.” Rarity frowned. “Even if our kind of relationship is ‘cliche,’ it’s still one built on love. That’s our foundation; and it’s Pinkie’s foundation, and Soul and Sunset’s foundation, even Artifex’s foundation with us, even if he doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

“Yet,” Ink heard herself say. All eyes were upon her, the most intense being Artifex’s.

“Yet? Ohoho, you mean Artifex has his eyes on someone?” Rarity’s eyes flashed. “Well, it’s about time. Who is it?”

“It’s—Ack!” Ink felt a sharp pain in her shin. Artifex was giving her a dirty look. Through the pain, she managed to roll her eyes. “Fine. It’s for him to say and not for me to tell you.”

“Phoo. Artifex! Be a dear and tell us to whom you’ve taken a fancy!”

“We’re getting off-track,” Clyde deflected, leading to Artifex giving him a relieved look. “Point is, Ink, when it comes to love, there isn’t one instance of it. Each has their own levels, their own circumstances and scenarios. They’re all unique.”

“But they’re also all the same,” Applejack said. “Ah mean, love is love, right? It don’t matter who it’s with or what it’s for.”

“So both complicated and simplistic.” Ink furrowed her brow. “That’s weird.”

“That’s quite the clinical tone, Ink,” Rarity noted.

“But she’s right!” Pinkie giggled. “Love is weird! Love is freaky! Especially when Swift and I have our lovey-dovey moments… like right now!”

Ink looked away, face burning, as Pinkie tackled Swift to the bench and began making sucking noises. Poor boy didn’t stand a chance.

“Does that answer your question, dear?” Rarity asked. “Though, I’m not sure if you really asked one.”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. It’s something.” Ink sighed. “Guess that’s all I can hope for right now. Can’t rush it, right?”

“Indeed,” Artifex said.

“Thanks, anyway, for putting up with all this.” She gestured to the paper, then to herself. “I know it must be weird for you all to be hearing me ask all of this.”

“It is weird,” Clyde said, “but we aren’t strangers to weirdness. Not in the slightest. Feel free to come by with any questions you might have in the future, okay?”

She nodded. “I will. Thanks again.”

The bell rang. Lunch was over. They packed up their stuff and said their goodbyes; Swift was trying to recover. Ink’s papers were still filled with drivel, but she hoped somewhere in that pile of randomness, she’d find a blinding diamond.