"So long, Fluttershy!" I wave from the entrance to my Boutique as she trots away, her simply ravishing coat matching the painterly yellows of the setting sun all around her. "I will see you in about an hour and a half, darling! Don't be late!"

"Oh, I-I would never think of it, Rarity," she calls back in that quiet, angelic voice of hers. "I... uhm... I look forward to having supper together. I really do. And... uhm... thank you for fixing Angel's blanket."

"Any time of any day, dearie! And thank you so much for assisting me in my latest project!"

I think Fluttershy says something else, or maybe she's just squeaking through one of her bashful smiles as she most often does. I can't tell at this point, obviously, for I must say, I'm rather preoccupied. Oh, how these delicate hooves of mine can't stop shaking! I simply cannot believe it: the gown is already finished! I thought it would take weeks to get the bodice right, much less all the ribbons and frills! Leave it to Fluttershy to arrive at the precise moment when I am in most need of inspiration. She really is such a doll. I hope she takes all of my encouragement to heart and reconsiders going into modeling, the humble dear. I fear that she has burned far too many bridges since she severed all professional relationships with Foto Finish. With the right amount of support, I truly believe she can achieve fame without all of the negative side effects she so illogically abhors.

Blessed Celestia! I cannot simply stand here! The sun is setting! What time is it?—Oh! It is almost seven o'clock! Good heavens, have I really been that preoccupied? I barely have any time between now and the social gathering, and here I am, a sweaty, disheveled, and uncouth mess! Ohhhh, I had hoped that I might present this gown with time to spare, and now that I have the opportunity, I can barely stand straight! Oh, what a disaster! To think that I put all of my heart and soul into such an undertaking, only to be penultimately curtailed by absent-mindedness!

Now just relax, Rarity. Take even breaths like your therapist tells you to. Mmm... Yes, that's it. There is no need to get your mane in such a pirouette. Stay calm. I know it usually takes you two hours to get properly ready for a special event. You have the grand total of... twenty minutes to prepare yourself and still have time to spare before the gathering. Mmmm... Daunting, I know, but think of all the fruitful benefits if you do this as swiftly and punctually as you had originally planned!

Simply be calm. Take one hoofstep after another. Yes, that's it. Fold the dress up all neatly and delicately. Place it in the package and gently apply the ribbon. Hmmmm... to perfume the gift or not to? Ew, good grief, of course not! What are you even thinking?! She will get the worst possible idea from that! Ahem... You're simply overwhelmed with the odor of a long day of tireless work.

Let us tackle that now, shall we? Just a quick rinse will do. Your mane is fine; let us keep it dry while you make your gentle coat spotless. Oh! Oh dear, too little t-time for a w-warm shower. By the ashen winds of Tartarus—Oh! Whew... Alright, then. Now dry yourself up. Just a smattering of make-up. You must make yourself pleasantly presentable; no need to doll yourself up like some ghastly filly of the night. Oh, don't forget the eyelashes. You know how she's always complimented you about them. One of these days, I swear, you must ask her about them. It must be no mere coincidence that she's engaged you in more than one conversation on the topic. Hmmm-Heeheehee... "engaged."

Oh! It's ten minutes after seven! No more distractions! I don't care how melodic her voice is when you think about it. I don't care how cute and bashful her smile is, or the way her eyes curve and squint whenever she laughs, as if she's navigating a terrible blizzard just to march her delicate self into your loving forelimbs—

Ungh! You are impossible, Rarity! You imbecilic, incurable dreamer, you! Get it together, or if Celestia is my witness I shall pack your bags and send you to an oasis far away from Ponyville so that you may finally exorcise the entirety of these paralyzing, tantalizing thoughts! I thought we had gone over this! You are a professional, an artist, a public icon—or, at least—an icon in the making. You must learn to concentrate, to think rationally. Never mind the fact that we know that there is one unicorn whose skills and strengths and overall poise shall always overshadow yours. The day that you woke up and realized that her unwitting superiority was no longer an issue was the day that a bright and shining beacon was lit deep inside you, and now is not the time to snuff it out, but instead to allow the lighthouse to shine so that you may find smooth seas to navigate in the dark.

Oh goodness, listen to me: must I always break into metaphors when I am at my wit's end? There was a time when I had more self-respect, not to mention a firmer grasp of my thoughts. They have since been dashed to bits, and I swear that she and she alone can piece them back together. She is a miracle-worker, after all, Equestria's one and only sorceress of destiny. Oh, how very blessed and privileged you are to live in the same town as her! And to think that she calls you "friend?" You would be her humble servant in a heartbeat if she let you. To think, after all of these years of scaling society's elite ladder, you would immediately and gladly fall to your knees to rinse her hooves with your finest champagne, even drying them with your mane if you so could.

Alas, I am melodramatic as always. Celestia help me, every time I think of her, hear her, or even see her, I would give anything for her to ask that she spend an entire day with me, in a way that she would never care to request such from the rest of our charming little circle of compatriots. It's not that I don't care for my other friends. I... admire them, of course. But do I cherish them? Stars above, there is only one soul in all the world I would be enamored to hold dear, and I don't know what excites me more: the fact that she's so close to me that she doesn't suspect it, or the fact that someday I am willing to take her hooves in mind and confess the whole weight of my joy into her darling, blushing face.

Heee-eeee... What a delightful occasion that would be, the day that I bestow upon her the unfettered lengths of my sincere adulation. There is no doubt that she would be beside herself with surprise. Shock? Perhaps so. Disgust? I dearly hope not. However, there are risks that I must anticipate, that I must prepare my fragile ego for. But, whatever the future holds, I shall anticipate it with the grace of a ballerina about to embark upon her final minuet. She is quite simply a prize that is too precious to give up. The world can have all of its gemstones. History can store all of its legends. Life is a short and sweet pageant, and I know—beyond the shadow of a doubt—that I have found my one and only dance partner.

Hmmmm... What a fantastic scent the air about Ponyville has, now that the intolerably hot summer sun has descended. I think I just left the Boutique ten minutes ago; it feels like a veritable century has gone by. I know that it's only tasteful to take my sweet time, to navigate the streets and alleyways of this town slowly, so as not to dirty the clean shine I had just restored my coat to. I suppose there's another purpose to this slow pace. Even a lady of my popular standings hereabouts has a bundle of nerves to carefully sort out, and the closer that the town library's branching structure looms into view, the harder it becomes to straighten the tangles in my convoluted spirit.

Still, I know—somehow, I know—that just seeing her face will clear everything, like a gentle breeze sweeping the sidewalk of cluttering leaves. And perhaps—yes—the gift that I have to bequeath her will bring a placid smile to the surface of her soul just the same.

I reach the door to the treehouse, take a deep breath, and ring the bell. If this was just any other evening, I would consider this late and untimely visit to be downright uncivil. Thankfully, though, there is soiree planned within the hour, and if I'm to make any impression on her at all, it is best to be fashionably early as opposed to fashionably late. Surely she won't take it the wrong way. Surely, she won't...

Oh dear Celestia, would she? Mmmm...

The door opens; my fears are instantly dissuaded. Oh, be steady, my beating heart! She is such a doll! Look at her: that innocent glint to her eyes, that plain yet refined manestyle, that twitch to her lavender cheeks as she takes half a second to register me and... yes? Yes! Oh, such a felicitous smile she has! I could simply die!

"Why, hello, Rarity!" Twilight Sparkle chirps. "What brings you here? I thought the get together wasn't until another forty minutes from now?"

I smile. I take a deep breath. I open my mouth. "I know, but I felt like—Hckkt! Koff! Koff!" Aaah! Dust! So much dust! What is this?!

"You okay?!" She winces, her cheeks becoming slightly rosy. "Oh, uhhh... eh heh. My apologies." She opens the door all the way and walks half a foot out, revealing the lengths to which a fine sheen of dust is currently clinging to her flank and tail. "I just came from sorting through a bunch of old book, and I completely forgot about your allergies, Rarity. I... uhm... I'll just go wash up really quick and—"

"No! Koff-Koff! Do not leave me—Koff! What I mean, is..." I wince, my eyes tearing. Oh heavens, I already feel a rash forming at the far end of my hooves! I just got a pony pedi two days ago! Oh! This is absolutely... absolutely...

"You sure that you're okay, Rarity?" Her eyes glimmer in the melting crimson of the west horizon.

Absolutely rapturous...

"Oh Twilight," I exhale, bearing a drunken smile. I just know it is. "I came by early to surprise you with something..."

"Surprise me, huh?" She smirks and raises an eyebrow, craning her neck to get a better look at the package levitating behind me. "Rarityyyyy," she drones, that adorable little voice of her clicking like Opalescence having just discovered a mound of cat nip. "You shouldn't have..."

"But I declare that the ship has already sailed, darling!" I stand up straight with an upwards tilt of my nose. This is my gift to her, a decision I had committed myself to ages ago. There's more than one mare capable of stubborn sincerity in this town. I, at least, have the edge of experience in asserting my generosity over her humility. Besides, I have other tricks: "However, if you are in no mood to receive a mere token of my affection, then so be it. I shall wait until a day or two after our scheduled dinner—"

"Oh no! Please! Don't think that I'm ungrateful!" she exclaims. She pleads. "Come right in! I'd love to see what you brought, Rarity! What good friend wouldn't?"

I smile gently at her as I trot my dainty way into her abode. Ah, yes, how deliciously predictable you can be, Twilight. The occasion when I have to second guess you is the day I'll know I have breached the permeable barriers of pretense between us. But, as for now, your innocence is something far too addictive to not attempt sculpting or teasing, like a foalish makeover during one of those "slumber parties" that you're so infatuated with.

Good gracious, it truly is dusty in here! Perhaps she was thinking in my best interest when she hesitated in welcoming me inside. All of these stacks of books and time-stained periodicals! Bah! Is this what she always does within an hour of attending a weekly get-together?

"I just about had everything ready to bring to Sugarcube Corner tonight when I realized I was missing an old book about obscure culinary dishes of the Lunar Empire. The topic of Whinniepeg customs isn't nearly as taboo today as it was before Nightmare Moon returned and became Princess Luna once again. I think the girls would enjoy a dissertation on ancient unicorn recipes for stellar stew. What do you think?"

"I... I think..." Careful, Rarity. Be calm and considerate of her ideas. Well, of course, you're always considerate of her ideas. But you could stand to display the affectionate nature of your interest a great deal more. You admire Twilight for her knowledge as well as her personality. After all, it is so very much a large part of who and what she is. "I think it's absolutely fascinating, darling!" Yes. Smile. Just like that. Ohhh, fantastic! She's blushing so adorably already! Keep it going... "Only you would have the grace and wherewithal to educate the world on time-forgotten treasures. We've known each other for almost two years, Twilight, and still you're proving to me just how and why you became the Princess' most treasured student."

"Jee, Rarity..." She digs at the wooden floor with her hoof. Her ears droop, and heaven help me if I don't want to push them back up, nuzzling them one delicate lobe after another. "I'm glad to know that somepony appreciates the amount of research I do. I'm so scared of boring you girls sometimes..."

"Boring?!" Boring?! Bah! "Bah! You are the spark of our lives, dear. Don't even pretend to claim otherwise..." The world flickers on and off. Oh, I must be fluttering my eyes. I really must work on restraining that. Erm... or perhaps not. Is she smiling more? Alas, she is! Okay, time to seize the opportunity. "But enough idle chat!" I smile immaculately while levitating the package brightly her way. "Do take a look, Twilight. Though you may wish to sit yourself down while you do."

She's already resting her haunches on the floor as she telekinetically grasps the present from me. Oh, Twilight, you are so delightfully literal, I could just kiss you. Eeep! She's opening it! Watch her eyes... Watch her eyes!

"Oh Rarity..." Her breath comes out in a priceless exhale. The drop of her jaw matches the lengths of the dress as she pulls the mahogany and violet ensemble out of the ornate container. "It... It is absolutely amazing!"

"Hmmm... Isn't it though?" I grin and lean her way. "Do you like the colors? I think they most perfectly match your mane."

"You... You didn't!" She looks at me. And I think—yes—her eyes are watering. Oh dear heaven... "This is so incredibly beautiful, and... and you crafted it for me?"

I feel my hoof playing with the lengths of my purple bangs. "'Crafted' is such a plebeian term, darling," I say. "I like to think that I perched myself upon a bank of silk, dove in, and simply... swam my way to an island of inspiration, as t'were." I giggle, a little too brusquely for my own good, but I have stopped caring several seconds ago. "I realized as I was making it that there was no other unicorn in Equestria worthy of owning such a thing besides sweet, gentle, Canterlot-cultured you. Heehee..."

The room is alive with the color of Twilight's rosy cheeks, and I couldn't be let down even if Discord came back and destroyed the world now or thirty seconds from now. It was all worth it just to reach this moment, this look of absolute bewilderment on Twilight's face. Could she deserve such a token of creativity and affection? Could she—a humble and studious librarian—be the receiver of something so immeasurably detailed that it could only be fit for a pony of royalty?

Oh yes, Twilight. Oh yes, you could, you absolute, unassuming angel. Since the day that you and I first met, I knew that you deserved no less than the entire world. And I do not refer to the occasion when we allied ourselves together to salvage the Elements of Harmony and defeat Nightmare Moon. I exclusively refer to those precious few months afterwards, the days of delicate discovery, when we met alone for tea and biscuits and talked about our lives, discovering how uniquely different yet undeniably fragile we both were.

I had an ambitious career to pursue. I sought fame and fortune, as well as the chance for all ponies throughout the land to know of my talents. But you? You've been to the top of that mountain, darling. You've been the pupil to Princess Celestia. You've seen all of the priceless sights of Canterlot Castle that I've dreamed of so much as glimpsing all my young life. And now, what is it that you seek? What is it that you pursue so desperately, that it nearly brought you to tears the first day that we had a heartfelt conversation, and I fell terribly, irreversibly in love with you?

You wish to be alive. You seek to be accepted. You desire to be a friend, an acquaintance, a lover—all of the things that would make you normal. Before I met you, I thought "normal" was a blemish, a plague, a thing to regret calling oneself. But you've taught me differently, Twilight, with your humility and your quiet desperation to win the hearts of those around you and subsequently hold them tight in your sweet, sweet forelimbs. Your quest in life is something that defines you, and not an obligation to the Princess like so many other equines are apt to believe.

And I am so incredibly blessed to be a part of your path toward discovery. But, oh, how I desire so much more. How like a doll you are to me, a sweet creature of innocence that just begs to be showered with affection. I know that we are only a winter and a half apart from one another, Twilight, but I cannot help but feel like I have existed for centuries while you've barely crawled through decades of living. How terribly long your days must have been, tortuously lonesome days, where all you had for companionship were your own journals and the dusty halls of Celestia's archaic chambers. How long have you bottled up your need to laugh, to cry, to smile, to sob, and to do all of those dear things in the comforting embrace of another soul?

I can be that embrace, Twilight. I can be that blessed and redeeming warmth. I have a good mind to hug you and not let go for millennia. Heaven help me, I'd take you by the hoof and lead you across the ballroom floor of life, teaching you all the lessons you need to know on culture, civility, etiquette, affluence, politics, philanthropy, and—yes, heehee—even friendship. But of course.

Because why else are you here, Twilight? Why do you live in this very town, astonishing us all with your otherworldly magic, blessing us with your innumerable talents, unless you truly, deeply feel that all of your epic gifts can be outshone by that which ponies like myself have to offer you? There are the givers and the receivers, Twilight. Don't you see that we are made for each other? Don't you see how terribly afflicted with amorous joy I am when we're simply in the same room together? How long must I go about this awkward dance, giving every tiny bit of myself to you, until the entire layer is threaded away from around my soul and you get to see the final and most intimate gift of all?

"I..." Twilight's voice wavers slightly, and I am thunderously brought back to reality, standing precariously upon the edge of her moistening eyes. "I just don't know what to say..."

I love her, but I do not wish to crush her. The weight is so huge—the pressure of all I have to give her is threatening to burst out of me in a single, cacophonous explosion. "A simple 'thank you, Rarity,' will do." I take a deep breath. "But all I truly need from you is a smile."

And just like that, she gives it, and I realize in a heartbeat that I am not the true Element of Generosity at all. Twilight is, simply for being alive, simply for allowing me to share the same air as her. And then she leans in and hugs me, and I know that life cannot be more dazzling than this.

"What have I done to be this lucky?" she murmurs against me. "To have a friend as beautiful and giving as you?"

Oh stars, I will melt! First I will die, then I will melt, and then the parts of me that haven't melted will be born again just to die die and finish the job! Heee! Oh, she's trembling, the poor dear! It's alright, Twilight. It's alright to be so happy. Just accept it, accept it all and be alive...

"What did I say earlier, dearie?" I nuzzle her, like a mother would embrace her foal. Sometimes the most blissful distance is the safest one. I part our hug and smile into her gaze. "The color matches your mane. The dress was meant for you before I even made it."

"I wish I could show you how thankful I am," she says, then brightens. "Oh! Heehee... I know! I could totally wear it tonight! What better way to show off your skill and generosity than to get our friends to appraise it?"

Instantly, I wince. "Erm... that... m-may not be the most fruitful of ideas."

She looks hurt. "Oh?"

"Wh-what I mean is..." I smile nervously. I feel my heart palpitating. Just think these words through, Rarity. You haven't thought much of anything carefully lately, but at least be discreet right here, right now. If you can be flustered over Twilight, you surely can be centered about her as well. "It's not just any ordinary party dress, darling. Why, it's something meant for the most elegant and regal of occasions. Surely, by next year's gala, you will have something worth showing off the upper elite of Canterlot, will you not?" I add the last bit with a sparkling wink.

It seems to have worked. "Oh, well that makes a lot of sense." She smiles crookedly. Sometimes I think that Twilight isn't used to grinning. She most often resembles a filly on her first date. Good grief, why am I dizzy all of the sudden? "The material you made this with is just so amazing! Now that I think about it, I simply can't see myself wearing it to anything less than a special event at the Royal Palace!"

I laugh airily. My insides are full of dancing froth. Oh, what a charming occasion that would be—for the two of us, I mean. Her in her gown and myself in my own frills. We'd be the belles of the ball, charming the crowd with her sweetness and royal connections and with my artistic flair and social grace. We'd complement each other, like opposite ends of a glimmering star. Oh, if only she'd allow me the dreamy opportunity of treating her like the absolute princess she was always meant to be, never mind the alicorn sisters she's attached to.

But, alas, how could that ever happen? How could I expect her to grace such a brazen invitation with a straight face? She would think that I was making a terrible joke at her expense. It's a horribly deep pit that I have burrowed for myself, after all. I am always going on elaborate tirades about "him," about the stallion that will carry me to heavenly levels of social and emotional ecstasy. I suppose it started as a nervous tick, a means of denying openly that which was too precious a thought to be true, but now I feel with every fiber of my being. It seems tragically fitting that the lasting barricades between Twilight and myself are the ones that I have so foolishly erected.

And yet, perhaps in a way, it is all for the best. The key to generosity, I feel, is to give up oneself, even one's hopes and dreams, especially if it means that the pony I care about is absolutely happy, without risk.

Looking into Twilight's face, seeing her leaning precariously between tears and laughter, I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that she is truly, undeniably happy. How despotic and cruel it would be of me to shatter that?

One day, Twilight. One day, I will be selfish, and you will see that the only pony I have ever wanted to dance with, to share the day with, to spend the cool starry bliss of the night with, is you. But until then, be happy with your gifts, for they are but a piece of the amorous whole I have yet to give. And maybe someday, when the stars align, and the spark in your eyes returns full circle, you will give yourself back just as dearly.

Until then... hmmmm... a mare can dream.

"Well, if you insist, Rarity," Twilight speaks, coaxing me back to the breath of the moment. "I'll not show this off to the girls. Perhaps sometime later this week you can let me try it on? A dress isn't a dress until it has your seal of approval, after all."

"Oh, Twilight, darling..." I smile as I breathe as I live as I melt. "It is most surely a date!"