Alright, Octavia, you can do this. It’s not that hard. Just go inside and tell Vinyl how you feel. If she doesn’t feel the same way, you’ll be okay. If she does…well, let’s cross that bridge if we come to it.

I repeated the same thought over and over, trying to convince myself that it would be okay. The door to the dorm room was all that stood between me and Vinyl. The fact that the room behind the door was silent told me that Vinyl was just sitting there, waiting for me to get home.

You can do this, Octavia. Open the door.

I pushed on the door and it swung open. I had to go inside now. My heart began to race as I walked in, and I scanned the room, looking for Vinyl. It was only ten thirty. There was no way Vinyl was in bed right now.

“Octy, is that you?” A voice called. Before I could answer, Vinyl was in front of me. She didn’t have her glasses on and I could see her magenta eyes perfectly. They were wide, as though she had been worrying about something all night.

“I’m home,” I bit my tongue. Of course I was home. Where else would I be?

“Are you okay? Did Concerto try anything? Was it like Thunderlane all over again? Do you need me to kick some serious flank?”

“Yes, no, no, and no,” I sighed. “Honestly, Vinyl, you are not my mother. I’m a full grown mare and I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself when we go out.” Vinyl’s eyes relaxed and I got wind of their full beauty. The sparkling color that flashed between magenta and red made me forget what I was doing.

“Earth to Octy, come in Octy,” Vinyl’s voice pulled me back to the dorm room. I still had something to tell her. It had to be tonight.

“I need to talk to you about something, Vinyl. I would prefer if we talked tonight, but if it isn’t a good time…”

“Octy, you know I’m always up for talking to you! As long as we don’t talk about the history of cellos again, because that conversation sucked,”

“It isn’t about cellos. I’ll just take a quick shower and I’ll be right out.” I dashed into the bathroom and turned the water on. So far, this was going well. All I had to do now was tell Vinyl. That would be the hard part.

The hot water poured over my back and soaked my mane. There was shampoo scrubbed into my mane and tail, and conditioner over the rest of my pelt. I felt it washing away, making my hooves a soapy mess. I heard a knock at the door and nearly slipped.

“Octy, it’s been like, half an hour. Did you fall or something?”

“I’m on my way out,” I called to her. I let the rest of the soap wash off and down the drain and shut off the shower. A quick dry-off with my towel and I no longer had an excuse to avoid the conversation with Vinyl. It had to be now. There was no more reason to delay.

The dorm room was dark, except for the lamp that lit up Vinyl’s face. She was sitting on the couch, watching our show.

“There you are,” she said when she saw me standing in the doorway. “I’ve found our backgrounder six times already. She’s right there,” Vinyl pointed a hoof and I nodded, not really caring how many times she found the backgrounder.

“We should talk now,” I shut my eyes and heard the television click off.

“What are we talking about?” Vinyl asked. Her eyes had returned to their worried state. “Did Concerto do something to you?”

“I already told you, he was a perfect gentlecolt. This has nothing to do with Concerto. It has nothing to do with Thunderlane either,” I added when Vinyl opened her mouth. “I just think we need to talk about something.” I inhaled deeply, trying to gather up the courage to say what I wanted to say.

“I’m in love with you, Vinyl Scratch. I love the way your mane is never neat, no matter how often we comb it. I love the way your laugh has that raspy quality to it. I’m in love with the way you dance when you’re working on your music. I love how you claim to hate singing, but when you’re here, you sing when you think I can’t hear you. I love your eyes, and how they flicker between magenta and red. Most of all, Vinyl, I love you.”

“Octy, are you still here?” Vinyl’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I opened my mouth to tell her how I felt, but something stopped me. What if she didn’t feel the same way? What if I poured my heart out to her, only to learn that she was in love with somepony else? What if my confession drove her away from even being friends with me?

“Octavia, are we talking or not?” Vinyl sounded impatient now. I looked at her. Her white coat was bright beneath the lamp light. Her electric blue mane stuck out everywhere. Her beautiful eyes showed hints of annoyance and humor. A half smile crossed my face and I shook my head.

“Never mind,”

Author's Notes:

This is the end of the story, but this isn't the end. I'm working on a sequel called 'The Cellist'. It'll be through Vinyl's POV and it'll cover some events from this story, as well as go a bit further in their relationship. Thanks for reading the story to the end, and thanks for making this story so much more popular than I ever expected.

~RushingAutumnLeaves~