Title:           One Heart - 2. 4AM
Author:          Slasher_Science
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/Cy6xiTqw
First Edit:      Sunday 3rd of August 2014 12:49:17 PM CDT
Last Edit:       Sunday 3rd of August 2014 12:49:17 PM CDT

2. 4 AM
 
Pity knows not struggle amongst friends. It comes easy and remains a different sort of elephant in the room.
 
Octavia has let you stay in her home.
 
This is the pity of friendship. She lives alone, but boasts a very elegant small abode; like you would expect of her. She's a friend you had met through attending several musical performances. Conversation with her was never dull. She is the quiet thinking type. Every word she speaks is thought out before she says it. You have never felt judged by her and have wondered if she was even capable of the process.
Since Applejack was mad at you, Octavia had accepted your groveling. She had a spare room.
 
The two of you sit on her couch.
While she reads a book, you take large drinks from the wine she had offered.
Without looking up, Octavia speaks to you, "Anon, I thought you didn't like alcohol?"
You slurp a little.
"Wine is pretty good. I have it every now and then." You've been sober ever since you were twenty-two. Last night was just because you were feeling blue.
And this was because...
 
You eye the cabinet across the room.
*That bottle of gin.*
"Drinking is more often than not a regrettable way to work through your troubles."
Now she looks up at you.
"I won't ask what happened at Sweet Apple Acres. It's your choice to talk when and to whom you want. I will ask however, if you are okay. Are you okay, Anonymous?"
 
You look down at the glass and exhale. Geez, this girl has a way with you. And she probably doesn't even realize it.
 
"I'll be okay. We all have rough patches-"
*Violence.*
"Some stuff happened-"
*Rape.*
"I probably said some stuff I shouldn't have-"
*Alcohol.*
"But it will work out. I'm just lucky to have a friend like you. I owe you big time."
 
Octavia smiles softly, "just please don't over-do it."
 
-
 
"I'm going to bed. Please feel free to help yourself to whatever you'd like." Octavia begins to ascend the stairs and stops to look back at you in the dim light.
She keeps several lanterns about her home for the nights. "Just remember: please don't over-do it."
You wave.
 
"Thanks again. I mean it. Good night."
 
You watch her walk up to her room, her silky tail swaying. She's so nice.
 
With a sigh, you look around the room. It's raining, completely black outside the windows. The lanterns cast shadows about the room along with the fire in the large fireplace. Your eyes come to rest on the oak cabinet.
 
Dry gin.
 
What is the odd urge in your mind? It's been there since last night.
 
When you saw the bar.
 
It should have been like neon letters, illuminating the spaces behind your eyes.
 
*COMFORT*
*ENNUI*
*SLEEP*
 
"That really is the order I suppose." You chuckle and step to the cabinet.
"One drink."
 
Alcohol never really fell into an alluring state with you. "A night cap."
You open the door as quietly as possible and grab the bottle. The clear liquid is almost all there. Unscrewing the cap, you take a sniff.
"Pine needles..."
The liquid burns as you take it down. "Mmm, whew."
Not so bad.
 
With a shrug, you take another swig.
 
Satisfied, you wipe the lip of the bottle and screw the cap back on, replacing the bottle to it's home.
 
You go to your room and lay down. Outside, the rain pelts the house.
 
You stare at the ceiling.
 
Completely awake.
 
-
 
"Pitter-patter, pitter-patter," you mumble as you walk down the street.
Octavia had an umbrella rack beside the door with a few umbrellas in it. Since sleep seemed to be out of the question and you had nowhere to be tomorrow, you decided a walk would be nice.
 
The rain has picked up.
So much so that the ground is mud below your feet, sinking in and collecting on your boots.
At least the town looks nice.
Lantern glow has really grown on you. A cat runs out from an alley and the wind surges a bit, blowing signs and leaves around.
 
You pull out a cigarette and light it.
 
The things were very rare here. You had to hunt down a small specialty shop that sold tobacco and go to that weird quill and parchment shop to get proper rolling paper to cut up.
Every smoke had to count.
 
Activity ahead catches your attention.
 
A pony trots out of a building.
You look up at the sign swaying in the storm breeze.
'Gaffy's Place'.
 
"A pub."
 
And just like that, the feeling is back.
"Something like 'baiting the fish', I guess."
You walk under the awning and close the small umbrella.
 
With another drag on your cigarette, you enter the bar.
 
It's empty inside.
 
That stallion that trotted out looking tired must have been their last customer.
 
It is almost 2 after all.
You walk up to the bar and sit on a low stool. The bar tender is a mare with red-ish pink-ish hair and green eyes.
She's actually very pretty.
 
"You must be Gaffy."
 
The mare smiles and shakes her head, "Actually, I'm Roseluck. I don't know who Gaffy is."
You nod, "Excuse me then. Is it alright that I smoke in here and can I have some whiskey?" She seems to gain more interest in holding conversation.
"Yes and yes. On the rocks?"
 
You nod, "Please."
 
She drops three ice cubes into a small glass and pours some bourbon atop them.
"My apologies if you were closing up soon." You look around at the empty scene.
 
Roseluck leans up against the bar and smirks, "somehow, I get the feeling had I been putting the stools on the bar, you would have taken one down and been in this exact same position."
You swill the ice around a little and take a sip. It almost makes you cough a bit.
*Not a veteran drinker.*
 
"And I'd still apologize for the inconvenience."
 
Roseluck straightens up and pours herself a bit of whiskey with a sigh. "No inconvenience to me. I don't close for another hour. And you seem interesting enough."
 
The second drink doesn't burn so much. You finish your cigarette and Roseluck pushes a shot glass over for you to use.
 
Snuffing the smoke in it, you look down into your drink.
"I couldn't sleep and you were bored... Baiting the fish huh?"
"What was that?"
"Nothing- so, how is it working here?"
 
Roseluck sighs, "it's a job. I do alright in tips, but I only started working here recently. I guess I get to see a lot of interesting ponies. Among other things."
 
There seems to be a glint in her eyes. Like a mischievous nature. She must not be that old.
Too pretty to be older.
It was quite alluring.
 
"Am I an interesting thing?"
 
She looks you over, feigning judgement of your question. " Nope. Completely typical."
You smile between a drink, "Oh? How typical?"
 
Rose rolls her eyes, "You're a complex man scorned by a woman, at the bar on a Wednesday night drinking whiskey at two in the morning, right?"
 
You look down at the glass.
 
Empty.
 
The ice shifts and clinks.
 
"Oh... I was spot on I guess, huh?"
You tap the glass twice on the bar and she makes to refill it for you.
 
"You may have been ribbing me, but your read is pretty good."
 
The liquid once more pours over the ice. Roseluck looks down into the bottom of the glass with you.
 
"Maybe this is silly coming from one who makes a living off providing alcoholic drinks, but booze is a horrible way to solve your problems."
 
You chuckle and shake your head.
"Yeah, I've been told that one. I actually don't drink much."
One more time you drain the glass in a couple drinks while Rose watches.
"And I wouldn't say I'm using it to solve anything."
 
She changes out your ice and pours another round.
"Can't solve what you've already figured out."
Roseluck takes a drink and sighs. "You're an interesting guy after all, Anonymous."
 
"Hmm, I never did introduce myself."
 
The mare walks from behind the bar and flips the sign over the door to 'closed'.
"Kind of hard not to know the name of the only six foot tall Human in Equestria."
 
She returns to the bar and finishes her drink. You do the same and light another cigarette. "Guess this is where I have to go, huh?"
 
She pours you another glass. "Last call. You have another fifteen minutes."
 
For the first time, she looks into your eyes.
 
You know she is noticing the bags you're sporting under them.
 
"Thirty if you want to start working through those 'figured out' problems."
 
You smile weakly and raise your glass, "with booze of course?"
 
She smiles and shakes her head with her eyes closed.
 
"You're not a good listener. Terrible in a drinking partner around these parts."
 
-
 
It's 4 AM when you leave the bar.
 
The last words of a long conversation stick with you.
 
"I have a feeling I'll serve you these stupid drinks again, but if I don't... I know we'll both feel a little better."
 
The birds are starting to chirp. The rain has stopped.
You begin walking again through the wet town.
 
As a form of habit, you begin heading to Sweet Apple Acres.
 
You stop and stare down the road.
 
With a dry laugh, you turn and head the other way. Back to Octavia's.
 
There's no ignoring that pain in your chest, no matter how much whiskey you took in.
 
And there's no going back, no matter how much you could ever wish it.
 
Was there?
 
Was there a way to get back to times you knew were better?
 
Before you hit her.
 
Things were getting bad.
 
And something about 4 AM, walking alone only makes it seem worse.
 
 
http://youtu.be/_irA53lTcfw