Mamihlapinatapai

Nothing was ever simple.

This was the cardinal rule Princess Twilight Sparkle had learned throughout her entire life. The illusion of simplicity existed, of course, but only because behind it was a string of complicated steps ensuring things seemed simple.

Everything and everypony had a logic, a process to their actions, a string of reasons why things happened and why they acted the way they did. Ponies were not simple, and of all the ponies in Equestria who were not simple, Rarity was the least simple of them all.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

Twilight’s ears twitched in unison with the clicking of the grandfather clock before her. It was a quarter to six, the agreed upon time in which Rarity would arrive at Golden Oak Library for their first sleepover.

Well, there were flaws in this theory.

Firstly, as previously mentioned, Rarity was the single most complicated pony Twilight ever had the privilege of studying, which also meant that she knew everything that made up Rarity’s internal logistics. The first of which being that she was always exactly six minutes late to everything, except for life-threatening situations, spa appointments, and meetings with clients.

The second inaccuracy was their sleepover number. To be technically correct—which was factually the best kind of correct—this would be their sixteenth sleepover together, but it was technically their first sleepover as a couple.

She looked away from the clock and towards her neatly organized study. Not a single thing was out of place—not a book, not a quill, not an inkwell, and not a parchment. Everything was perfect and organized, as it should be on such a momentous event, according to the several couples counseling books she’d read and a few of the romance novels Rarity had lent her.

Twilight finally tore herself away from her study, walking into the foyer and up the stairs leading to the upper rooms. She stopped at the top of the stairs, her eyes flitting between the door leading to her room and the one leading to the guest room. After a moment’s indecision, she opened her door and stepped into her absolutely pristine room which she’d already cleaned six times in the past two hours.

Well, okay, seven and half times, but really, who was counting, anyway?

Her eyes landed on her solitary bed with its solitary pillow. Another pause, and her magic flickered to life, simultaneously moving the pillow to the edge of the bed while opening a nearby closet and retrieving a second pillow. She levitated it over to the bed and, with a satisfied smile, neatly placed it next to the other pillow.

Perfect for two ponies… Unless we don’t fit in it. I think we do. We should be able to, unless… Well, we’ve only been officially dating for three weeks. What if she doesn’t want to sleep in the same bed as me?

And so she took it back.

But what if she does?

And then put it back down.

But what if she does but then she sees that I assumed that she would and she changes her mind because I assumed?

And then back up again.

But what if she assumes that the fact that there isn’t another pillow means I don’t want her to sleep in my bed with me and then she decides to go to the guest room because she thinks I want that?

And then, rather than putting it back down, she levitated it over towards herself and smushed her face against it, groaning loudly. Without lifting her face from her fluffy escape, her horn flashed again, and Rarity’s favorite romance novel appeared before her. It opened itself up, the pages flying past until it stopped halfway through the book and she finally looked up, squinting at the lines.

“Sweet Repose laughed without restraint, clutching onto her pillow while Fine Point used his to try and muffle his laughter,” she read aloud, a satisfied smile finally returning to her lips as she placed the pillow back on the bed and sighed.

Books, as always, had the answer to everything.

Her duty done, she took another deep breath and tried to steady her nerves. Why was she even nervous? As said before, she and Rarity’d had many sleepovers with just themselves, and the fact that they were now dating shouldn’t be an event-changing variable. She liked Rarity because they worked well together in social and interpersonal situations, and there was nothing to worry about. Even if, sure, their first night together would probably set the tone for the rest of their relationship and define their entire future.

But really, who was worried? Twilight definitely wasn’t!

The bedroom situation handled, she returned downstairs and a quick glance at the clock informed her that it was only six o’clock. She still had exactly six minutes left, which was more than enough time toooooo…

Poof!

Another jolt of magic, and a six-foot long scroll unfurled before her, on which Twilight had written down a paltry list of thirty-eight activities to ensure Rarity had the sleepover-date of her dreams. Granted, she hadn’t been able to finish constructing her home-made thermal sauna device, but she could maybe squeeze in time while—

Three quick knocks at the door interrupted her machinations, and the Princess’s face peeked from behind the scroll, blinking at her front door. Did somepony come by for a book? Why did patrons always wait until literally the last minute to come and get books?

She pursed her lips.

Technically, it was already one minute past six, so she didn’t have to answer, but she also didn’t want to deprive any fellow pony of an opportunity to read a good book. She rolled up the scroll and put it away, moved to the door, and plastered on her best smile as she opened it.

“Well, well, well,” said the beautiful unicorn on the other side of the door, offering Twilight a brilliant smile and fluttering of her long eyelashes. “If it isn’t Princess Twilight Sparkle herself, come to bless us poor mortals with her divine beauty.”

“Ra-Rarity!” Twilight blurted out, too surprised by Rarity’s appearance to actually register and blush at the unicorn’s remark. She glanced back, noticing it was only two minutes past six o’clock, and looked back to her girlfriend. “You’re early!”

Rarity tilted her head and examined her forehoof. “Oh, you know, I thought it would be interesting for once. Change it up a little, be fashionably early and the like.” She winked at Twilight. “It would seem you can now add yourself to your little list of things I’m actually on time for.”

Twilight gasped. “I don’t have a list of things you’re early for!” she hotly denied.

“And I don’t have a list of things you do that I find adorable,” Rarity replied with a sigh, dejectedly adjusting her saddlebags.

“Wait,” Twilight asked, heart thumping in her chest, “do you really have a list like that?”

“Well…” Rarity leaned forward. “That’s for me to know, and you to constantly wonder about.” She tapped Twilight’s nose with her hoof before walking past her and into the library, looking around as she did so. “Hypothetical lists aside, I finished my tasks early today, which is why I’m here early, as it were. Also, might I add the library looks impeccable!” She turned to Twilight. “Spike, I presume?”

“Actually,” Twilight said, closing the door and beaming at the unicorn, “Spike was only responsible for the first cleaning. I did the rest.”

Rarity paused. “The first cleaning?”

Twilight nodded. “Yes. I cleaned it a, uh, second time.”

At that, Rarity raised her eyebrow and smiled knowingly. “Just a second time?”

Twilight faltered, ears lowering. “Yes. Well, I might have cleaned it three times.” Rarity continued to stare. “All right, four.” And she continued to stare up until a flustered Twilight exclaimed, “All right! I cleaned seven and a half times, but—” a book appeared beside her “—according to studies in Madame Spotless’ Guide to Proper House Care, a house can still be biologically dirty even after up to ten consecutive cleaning cycles!”

Rarity walked to her, taking the book in her own magic and reading it over. “Oh, you’re absolutely right! It does say that,” she exclaimed, missing Twilight’s victorious nod. She gasped and pointed to another section of the page. “Goodness, and here! Why, this is fascinating!”

Twilight frowned, standing on the tip of her forehooves and trying to get a look. “What? What is? What part?” she asked, excited to be able to share interesting knowledge with her marefriend.

“You won’t believe it! It says here that you’re a rather silly pony!” she exclaimed, finally looking up at Twilight with an innocent smile.

Twilight blushed. “It does not say that!” she said, taking the book and merely taking a moment to confirm it did not say that, which it obviously didn’t. That done, she turned to Rarity and affected a smug smile. “Maybe you’re the silly pony, Rarity,” she proposed, but rather than protesting and denying it as Twilight had expected, Rarity offered a smitten giggle in turn.

“Oh yes, very much so,” she said. “But I’m your silly pony, I would hope?”

Twilight took it all in: Rarity leaning in close, the slight blush, the mesmerizing azure eyes, the charming smile. The answer was obvious, both to her and Rarity, and so she leaned in and said:

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?!” gasped Rarity theatrically, stepping back with a hoof on her chest as though she’d been struck with a dagger. “Maybe? Darling, dearest, sweetheart, Twilight Sparkle, why must you—” She paused, looking around and frowning. After a moment, she turned to Twilight. “Twilight, sweetheart, do you—” A large sitting pillow appeared before her, plush and waiting.

“Does that work?” Twilight asked, smiling.

“Splendidly! Thank you,” Rarity replied before clearing her throat and throwing herself on the pillow with a wail, a hoof placed on her forehead. “Why must you wound me with your words?!”

Twilight snorted. “And you say I’m the silly one here,” she said with a playful eyeroll.

Rarity laughed, moving her hoof away. “I think we’ve already discussed that matter enough.” She then placed her hoof on her chest and sighed, closing her eyes.

One, two, three seconds passed before Twilight cleared her throat.

“Yes?” replied Rarity, still lying on her back and still closing her eyes.

As much as Twilight liked admiring Rarity’s form, and as beautiful as she looked lying on the pillow looking perfectly content, Twilight had a list of thirty-eight activities waiting for them.

“Well…” she said, glancing at the clock on the wall. “We’ve already used up the five minutes of ‘Rarity dramatics’ I had scheduled into our sleepover date, soooo…” The scroll appeared and unfurled before her. “We should probably get started on our list of activities.”

“Oh?” said Rarity from behind the scroll. “And what exactly is on our li—“ A quick pause. “Twilight, did you actually—“ Another pause, enough for Twilight to peek from behind the scroll and find Rarity staring at her. “You know, I shouldn’t be surprised you meant a quite literal list, but yet here I am.”

“Lists are very useful.”

Rarity’s magic enveloped the scroll and she levitated it down towards herself, leaving Twilight in the unfortunate position of watching with growing anxiety as Rarity inspected the list with narrowed eyes.

“I know it’s not a lot of options,” she quickly said, “but I tried to compile activities I thought you might enjoy so we have a good time.”

“I see,” said Rarity, and nothing more as she continued reading the list.

If she were any other pony, Twilight Sparkle wouldn’t have given it much thought, but if she knew Rarity at all—which she liked to think was quite a lot considering their years of friendship—she knew that ‘I see’ never boded well.

“I can add more,” she added.

Rarity still didn’t look up. “Oh, no, no, I think these are more than enough, darling. I’m only wondering if…” Her ears flicked down and her brow furrowed slightly. “Hrm.”

And at that, Twilight held her breath.

Of all the possible noises Rarity could make, ‘hrm’ was the one Rarity made in very specific situations, such as the spa being closed on Saturdays, or the shops not having the fabric she needed, or somepony saying or doing something she did not approve of.

Twilight’s first reaction was to ask if something was wrong. Her second instinct was to hold back the first one because asking if something was wrong meant bringing up the possibility to Rarity, and if Rarity didn’t think there was something wrong, she then probably would as a consequence of being asked if something was wro—

“No matter,” interrupted the unicorn, returning the list to Twilight and then getting up. “Well then!” She grinned at Twilight. “Shall we begin?”

“Oh, uh, yes!” Twilight exclaimed, the tightness in her chest dissipating at Rarity’s smile. She looked over the scroll and hummed. “Why don’t we begin with—“

“Putting my saddlebags upstairs?” Rarity cut off, picking said bags up and putting them on her back. “Rather than having them decorate the middle of your lobby?”

Twilight smiled sheepishly. “Right.”

“Right,” Rarity repeated with a smile that faded slightly. “Speaking of which…” A delicate pink hue tinted her cheeks, and she bit down on her lip for a moment before carefully asking, “Where will I be sleeping…?”

Twilight froze, her cheek’s pink splotches nowhere near as ladylike as Rarity’s. Her earlier internal discussion rose up again in a frenzy, and she pushed it away in favor of engaging in a tried and true method to answer any potentially catastrophic question.

Answer it with another question.

“Where would you like to sleep?” she asked, satisfied.

Rarity smiled knowingly. “Why are you asking me? This is your house, Twilight.”

Twilight matched her smile. “Yes, but you are the guest.”

“True,” Rarity said, tilting her head, “and yet you are the host, and is it not up to the host to ensure everything is in order for said lovely guests?”

Twilight pursed her lips. “I… well… I mean…” She paused. “Hrm.”

Rarity grinned. “Indeed.”

Twilight fell silent, engaging Rarity in a rather intense staring contest, which incidentally reminded her of something completely unrelated.

“You know,” she said, and Rarity offered a victorious smile, “there’s a fascinating word for this.”

Rarity’s victorious smile vanished, and she blinked at Twilight. “I… pardon? A word for this…?”

Rather than replying with said word, Twilight’s horn flashed once and an open book now levitated before Rarity, the title “Schadenfreude and You: Fascinating Foreign Words” proudly displayed on the cover.

Rarity scanned it and then looked up at Twilight. “Twilight, I don’t know if I’m up for tongue-twist—“

“Mamihlapinatapai,” Twilight said without a hitch. “It’s Yakghan, from the Land of Fire.”

Rarity blinked. “I won’t even try to pronounce that,” she said, clearly off-put by Twilight’s brusque change of topic. Nevertheless, she turned back to the book and read aloud, “A look shared by two people, each…” The delicate blush returned. “… Each wishing that the other would initiate something that they both desire but neither wants to begin.” She cleared her throat. “That is frightfully interesting indeed.”

“Isn’t it?” Twilight replied with delight, excited moreso by the fact that Rarity found her trivia interesting than by the fact that it was accurate. “I knew you would like it.”

“I did, darling!” Rarity exclaimed before smiling mischievously. “It is, however, inaccurate.”

“What?” Twilight asked. “No, it isn’t.”

“Oh dear, I’m afraid it is, Your Highness,” she said, taking the book in her own magic and examining it carefully. “You see, mami…la… that word relies on nopony initiating, which is inaccurate since I did ask you first where should I sleep.” With that, the book snapped to a close and she levitated it over to Twilight with a smug smile. “You know, I think there’s a fascinating foreign word for this. It’s—mmph!”

“Wait,” Twilight said, listening to Rarity try to whine through the magic keeping her muzzle shut. “So! We both asked the same question, and what logically follows is that one of us has to answer. In normal circumstances, since you asked first, then I should answer first, but… unless you’re willing to retract what you said about my table manners the other day…” She matched Rarity’s earlier smug smile as she let go of Rarity’s muzzle. “Ladies first.”

A long silence followed until Rarity frowned.

“Hrm.”

Twilight giggled. “I think you mean touché,” she said as Rarity shook her head and trotted past her, towards the stairs and up to the rooms.

Though Twilight felt victorious as she followed her up towards the rooms, her acquired bravado and confidence vanished almost entirely when Rarity paused at the top of the stairs, glancing towards both rooms as Twilight earlier had.

It was a split-second moment, a split-second decision, and the unicorn strode into Twilight’s room without much more hesitation.

Ordinarily, this would be something good. And it was! It was, but as Twilight very well knew, everything in life was complicated and intricate and clearly if Rarity had stepped into her room, then clearly it was because Twilight had guilted her into it by saying they both wanted the same thing.

Clearly.

And clearly, as she followed Rarity into the room, she realized the dimensions of her bed and how they wouldn’t fit, and if they didn’t fit then they’d have to sleep smushed together and what if—

“Two pillows?” Rarity threw Twilight a teasing look. “I’m delighted to see we’re both truly on the same page,” she said, and privately Twilight was immensely relieved she had decided to go off Rarity’s favorite novel.

Hopefully, they would actually fit on the bed.

What if they didn’t?

Well, that’s fine, she thought as Rarity took out her things, I’ll just write down Rarity’s measurements while doing activity twenty-three, and then I can figure out if we fit in the bed before we actually have to sleep at a quarter to midnight. Problem solved!

“Well then!” Rarity said, failing to notice Twilight discreetly taking out measuring tape from a desk drawer. “Now we ca—“ The appearance of Twilight’s scroll before her cut her off. “Well then.”

Twilight moved the scroll towards her, looking it over. “We’re late by a few minutes, but if we start on the fabric lesson, we can still make it to—“
“Twilight?”

Twilight peeked from behind the scroll. “Yes?”

“May I suggest an activity?” she asked. “That’s not on your list.”

Twilight swallowed. “That’s not on my list?”

She knew thirty-eight activities wouldn’t be enough!

“Scandalous, I know,” Rarity replied, taking the scroll from Twilight’s magical grasp. “Twilight, there’s something, shall we say, amiss with this list?”

“There is?” Twilight asked, horrified. “What? Is it because the makeshift spa time is only thirty minutes instead of your usual three hours?” She took the scroll back and a quill appeared before her. “Well, maybe if we cut out ten minutes from the tea time and only read two chapters of Flowers of the North, we might be able to make it—” The scroll was taken away from her and she blinked at the unimpressed unicorn. “Or not?”

“Twilight,” Rarity said, rolling up the scroll. “What was your reasoning behind picking all of these activities?”

The answer was obvious.

“Because they’re your favorite activities,” she said matter-of-factly.

Rarity hummed. “And tell me this,” she said, “how many of the activities in this list are things you choose because you liked them and not because I liked them?”

Twilight’s mouth opened and closed several times, her incredibly eloquent reply following after a moment.

“Hrm.”

Rarity smiled victoriously, tapping Twilight’s nose with the rolled-up scroll. “Precisely,” she said. “And more to the fact, dearest, appreciate it as I may, and I sincerely do, but… why do we need to do all these things?”

Twilight blinked. “…To have the perfect first sleepover date?”

Rarity licked her lips. “Well, yes, darling, but we don’t need thirty-two acti—”

“Thirty-eight.”

“Thirty-eight activities to have the perfect first sleepover date,” Rarity said, finally moving to Twilight and brushing her bangs back, which sent a jolt down Twilight’s body, fluttered her heart, and only made her feel even worse because she wanted everything to be perfect.

“Of course we need thirty-eight activities, Rarity!” she said helplessly. “With the help of these activities, we’ll always be engaged in something, which leaves little time for some of the common downsides of initial dating like awkward silences, potential boredom from one or both ponies, or, more commonly, wandering thoughts that can spiral into misplaced and unfounded anxiety.”

Rarity giggled. “Ah? So, business as usual then?” she teased.

“I don’t have wandering thoughts that spiral into misplaced and unfounded anxiety!” Twilight protested, and when Rarity raised an eyebrow, a blush appeared on her cheeks. “Not always! Sometimes. Maybe. Anyway. I just…” Her ears lowered, as did her shoulders. “I just… I don’t want this to be… Ugh.”

“Twilight,” Rarity said carefully and lovingly, “our dates don’t have to be a flurry of activities and intricacies and entertainment to make them perfect.” She lifted her hoof and caressed Twilight’s cheek. “Life is made up much more of the little simple moments than grand gestures. ”

Twilight wanted to protest, but…

“What… I mean, what do you want to do, then?” she asked, reluctantly putting her list away and finally deferring to Rarity, which she knew would be the ultimate path to making the unicorn happy.

“It’s simple,” Rarity said, and without further ado, she trotted over to Twilight’s bed, lied down upon it and then patted the spot next to her. “Shall you join me, Princess?”

“I… I’m worried we won’t fit,” Twilight finally confessed, her silly large wings rustling next to her. “We might have to be very close together.”

Rarity gasped, a hoof flying to her chest. “I might have to sleep pressed against my marefriend?! Scandalous! Outrageous! Horri—”

“All right, all right!”

Showily rolling her eyes, Twilight finally acquiesced and climbed onto the bed, trying her best to fit, which, to be technically accurate, was pretty easy to do without cuddling up to Rarity, but who really wanted to be technically accurate anyway because as it turned out, Rarity was much softer to cuddle than she had anticipated.

She wondered, briefly, as Rarity nuzzled against her and sighed, if she should write a dissertation on the softness of Rarity’s coat.

“So, tell me, Princess,” Rarity said, enveloped in between wings and forelegs alike, “was this very complicated?”

Twilight did not immediately reply.

Nothing was ever simple.

That was the cardinal rule Princess Twilight Sparkle had learned throughout her entire life. The illusion of simplicity existed, of course, but only because behind it was a string of complicated steps ensuring things seemed simple.

Everything and everypony had a logic, a process to their actions, a string of reasons why things happened and why they acted the way they did. Ponies were complicated, and of all the ponies in Equestria who were not complicated, Twilight Sparkle herself was the most complicated of them all.

But, thankfully, she had Rarity there to make things simple.