Moonstone woke up, and couldn’t move. Normally, this would be a scary scenario —but Moony registered the blanket texture just as quickly as the constraint, and as such, immediately realised that she’d been burrito-ed while she was asleep.

“Felix?” she asked, groggily. Trying to look around from her blanket prison, she wasn’t able to see much from her position up in her loft bed. Only that the kitchen nook was empty and that the bathroom door was open. Unless Felix was right beside the bed, she was alone in the room.

Stars, she was thirsty.

With a groan, she twisted and dragged herself out of the blanket, almost falling over the edge of the bed in her ministrations.

Once she finally popped free, she dragged herself down the stairs towards the sink. Luckily, enough light shone through the windows that she didn’t have to light any candles to see. Gulping down water, she looked around the space again; still no Felix in sight.

It was light out.

In winter.

What was the time? He wouldn’t have left without—

No, his bag was still sitting in the corner.

So, where was he?

The window was locked from the inside, and the space under her bed was empty. She’d just checked behind the shower curtain in the bathroom, when the front door opened.

Felix silently slunk inside, and turned to close the door quietly behind him.

“I’m awake,” she said, making him jump in the air. He whirled around to face her, as she stepped out of the bathroom completely.

In the light from the windows, she could see how bad he looked. His mane was a bird’s nest, his wings were messy from lack of preening and his eyes looked bruised from a lack of sleep. He was carrying a pair of paper saddlebags filled with… something.

He looked at her, eyes filled with questions and worry, and Moony suddenly remembered exactly what she’d said the previous night. Her ears folded and she felt her face heat up. That’s why he hadn’t—!

“Oh no,” she stammered out, her hoof flying to her mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean— you missed your train because—”

“It’s okay,” he simply said, and walked over to put the bags on a kitchen counter. “Moony, I don’t have a job. The only reason I was going home today was to not keep you from your studies.”

Moony still felt a deep clenching pressure in her chest, and couldn’t seem to move. She’d said so much… it was the truth, but she hadn’t meant to dump it all at once so quickly. And now… oh, he pitied her, she was sure of it, and felt he needed to stay and babysit her, and she hadn’t meant to make him feel like he had to stay so she wouldn’t be—

“Moony?” Felix' worried voice interrupted her internal panic. She focused her blurry eyes on him, and found his face right in front of hers. “I really is okay, Moony.” He reached out and pushed against her side. “Come on; sit down, and I’ll make lunch.”

Gently keeping a claw on her side, he towed her over to the stairs, pushing her down on the bottom-most one. “Wait here,” he commanded. “I have…” He took a deep breath. “I have things I need to tell you too, but I’m going to need some food in me first, or the both of us is going to have ugly cried in the span of just a few hours.”

Moony’s head snapped up to face him when she registered what he’d said. What was—

“No.” Felix pushed her down again. “Food first, talking later.” He gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Sit.”

She sat.

She sat as he lifted out the groceries he’d bought and either put them away or on the counter for immediate use.

She sat as he rummaged around, grabbing a pot and a frying pan, filling the former with water.

She sat as he turned on the stove, and put the pot and the pan on it. Unlike her, he didn’t use the wall mounted holder; his claws let him just grab and lift it, as well as use the mouthgrip on one side and hold the pan still as he worked.

It was only when he pulled out a knife to start chopping veggies that she refused to sit more; she wasn’t a good cook, but even she could peel and dice things.

They worked in silence as Moonstone chopped and Felix cooked. The… Moony glanced at the clock. The lunch wasn’t very fancy, just a veggie stir-fry with boiled eggs, but she didn’t much care. By the time they were done, her stomach was growling in anticipation.

Without a table, they just sat on Felix’ mattress as they ate. It was time to replace the sheets anyway.

Moony wanted to ask what was wrong. Why Felix had something to say that would make him cry? The thought gripped her heart; here she’d been all complaining about her own problems, when Felix also apparently had been hurting. She wanted to stuff the words from last night back into her mouth. Lacking that option she just stuffed it with food, wanting to get lunch over with so they could speak.

It felt like it took forever, but they did eventually finish and put their plates to the side. Moony leaned forwards, trying to catch Felix’ eyes.

“Felix?” She half asked, half prompted. “We’ve eaten. Do you still feel like—?”

“Can I lean against you?” He interrupted her, fidgeting with the blanket they were sitting on.

“H-huh?” Very eloquent, Moony. “…yes?”

“Just— like this, I mean,” he said and turned around so his back was to her. Shuffling backwards, she found herself having to raise her forelegs as he leaned up against her stomach. She lowered her hooves again, and found herself hugging him from behind; his head rested under her jaw, and his body tucked between her back-legs. Wispy strands of his mane tickled her nose slightly.

“It’s easier to talk about hard stuff when I don’t have to face you,” he explained. “Is this okay?”

“Y-yeah, of course,” she nodded into his mane, and gave him a squeeze. Luckily he couldn’t see her red face. “Anything to make you feel more comfortable.”

She felt him take a deep breath. “I lied in my letters,” he finally started. “Well, not exactly, but I didn’t tell the whole truth either. I wanted to, but I was afraid if I did that you’d feel bad about leaving and I didn’t want to hold you back from anything.”

“You wouldn’t ever—” Moony started, wanted to reassure him that he was much more important than any stupid university, but was interrupted.

“Please don’t talk? Sorry, just—” Felix swallowed and gripped her hoof. “I’ve been thinking all morning about what and how to tell this, and… I’m not sure how I’ll do if I lose track of the plan?”

Moony nodded into his mane again, keeping quiet now.

Felix took another deep breath. And continued with his story.

About how absolutely lost he’d been back home. Nothing in his future to work towards, nothing to dream about, just the next day bringing the exact same as the last. How each step forwards was really just a circle that brought him back to the start, over and over and over. How every time he’d tried to find a way to get out, he was just pulled deeper into the spiral.

Moony did keep her promise during the time it took, but it was so hard to not react that she couldn’t help herself to not squeeze him tighter when he spoke of feeling like days melted into one another until they lost all meaning of even existing as separate entities.

But when he softly admitted that the only points in the future he could aim and look towards were her visits, she couldn’t stop a sob from escaping; she quickly buried her face into his mane, hoping he hadn’t heard.

Unfortunately, he had.

With a lot of untangling, he shifted around so he was sitting between her legs, facing her. He reached out and cupped her face, while worryingly clicking his teeth together as he tried to catch her eyes.

“Nono, Moony, please don’t,” he softly keened. “It’s not your fault, I promise, it’s not. You couldn’t visit, that’s not your fault, it just is.”

“But you kept hoping th-that I’d finally visit, and I never d-did,” she managed to get out. “I’m sorry, I’m so—”

“But how could you have known?” he asked, leaning in closer to give her a watery smile. “I never said anything, Moony!”

“And I never explained why I didn’t,” Moony softy responded, squeezing her eyes closed. “You must have felt so forgotten.”

Felix actually laughed -albeit, a very teary laugh- making Moony look up at him.

“Yeah, we both really suck at communicating, huh?” he asked, grinning at her.

She stared at him, at his sparkling eyes and wobbly smile, and felt herself beginning to giggle too. He was right; they really, really did.

They laughed, almost hysterically at something which really wasn’t funny -but it was just such a relief to have it all out there, to not have to keep sitting on it, hoping that the other wouldn’t find out- that they laughed anyway.

Moony hugged him close, and felt his wings wrap around her in return.

Together they sat, every now and again breaking out in another fit of giggles, as the faint short winter sun travelled just above the roof of the building across, coldly shining through the window, casting long shadows behind them.

After the last bursts of laughter had passed, and they’d both just sat in silence for a while, Moony spoke up.

“You know… you said you couldn’t get out of the circle,” she murmured into Felix’ shoulder. He jerked, and Moony realised he’d been about to fall asleep where they sat. “But you did, Felix. You got here.”

“I had help,” he mumbled back. “A very nice pony working at the station helped me with all of it.”

“…You still had to ask for it, and actually act on the help,” Moony countered. She thought of her own inability to do the same, and continued. “That’s not… that’s not nearly as easy as it sounds a lot of times.”

Felix just hummed in response.

“…How long are you staying?” Moony finally asked the question which had been nagging at the back of her mind since Felix had told her he wasn’t leaving today.

He shrugged, a bit sluggish. He really must be tired; then again, he had been awake for an unknown amount of time -and had even gone to the store- by the time Moony woke up.

“Dunno.” He yawned. “At least ‘til after Midwinter, but don’ know ‘xactly.”

Moony felt muscles she hadn’t realised were tense relax. That was at least a week and a half then, if not more.

“I need more help,” Felix murmured into her chest. “An’ from what you said, so do you.”

Moony turned to look out the window. The sun was just barely still peeking through the window; in just a few minutes more, the room would be cast in darkness again.

“Yes,” she finally admitted. “But I’m not sure where to start with either of us.” Her eyes narrowed. “But I’ll try Felix. I won’t just send you back home and have everything go back to how they were before. I promise.”

Felix nodded but didn’t say anything. She glanced down at him; he seemed deep in thought.

She wanted to continue talking, to ask what he was thinking, to start to plan what they could do. Could she ask her cousin for advice? Or maybe they could—

But she hadn't had a chance to voice any of that, as knock interrupted them.

Moony tensed, and felt Felix do the same above her. Before she had the chance to tell him to ignore it and pretend they weren’t home, he rose and flew over to the door, peeking through the peep-hole. Moony groaned and followed at a more sedate pace.

“One of your neighbours,” he murmured into her ears when she came up beside him. “I’ve seen them in the stairwell.”

Moony shrugged. She again thought of nudging him back and staying silent until the neighbour left… but Felix kept glancing between her and the door, so she reluctantly opened it. Curse Felix for actually making her do the adult thing.

It wasn’t just any neighbour, but her literal next-door neighbour. Traffic Jam, as was his name, looked constantly tired whenever Moony saw him, with perpetual bags under his eyes and an unbrushed coat. He was a… not terrible neighbour, in Moony’s opinion. Loud sometimes at night, but Moony just put in earplugs. They never talked much at all, aside from greetings in the corridor. So why would he come by her door…?

He’d held his hoof up as if to knock again, and slowly lowered it as he faced the two of them. “Oh, you’re home. Great.” He cocked his head as Felix. “Including… you. Sphinx-bird-dude. I don’t think I was told your name.”

Turning to Moony, before either of them had the chance to actually do tell him Felix’ name, he added. “You know we aren’t allowed to have people staying overnight right? And they,” he motioned towards Felix. “Have been here for, what, a week now?”

Moonstone gave Traffic an unimpressed look. She hadn’t said anything about this before due to not wanting to embarrass him, but now he came to her to complain about… “Yeah.” She said, flatly. “And you know I can hear almost everything you do, right?” She pointed at the wall. “Those walls aren’t as thick as you seem to think they are.”

Previously, Traffic had been slouching with his constant tired expression on his face; now he abruptly straightened up and his ears turned pink. “Oh, uh—”

“Yeah.” Moony leaned forwards a bit. “So I won’t tell anyone just how often your… 'friend' stays overnight, and you won’t tell anyone about my friend here, yeah?”

He nodded, face now equally pink. “Yeah, yeah. No need to be so serious dude, I was just making sure you knew.”

Moony rolled her eyes. “Sure. Was that all you wanted to say then?”

Traffic paused and scratched at the stubble on his chin. “Oh, wait, no it wasn’t! You’ve got someone on the phone asking for you, and they seem really upset. Something about someone not being on their train?”

“…Iforgottocallmymoms!” Felix rushed past her and sped down the hallway towards the stairs, flinging himself right over the bannister to fly down to the payphone on the floor below.

Moony and Traffic stared after him, looked at each other, and then just… nodded and shuffled awkwardly back into their respective apartments.

Moony just grabbed her key, locked the door, and set off after Felix; she could already hear his frantic voice reassuring the people on the other end that he was okay.


This would take a lot of explaining to do.