# Vinyl and Octavia: University Days

## by DawnFade

### Chapter 11

Chapter 11

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Octavia pulled back, startled out of her resolve by the pressure on her lips. “I’m so sorry, I – mmfgh!”

The DJ wasn’t about to let it end, not after this long, not after all those damn thoughts! This was one dream she would never let fade. She pushed forward, wrapping her hooves around the grey mare’s neck. The heat on her face spread through her entire body like a current of electricity, sparking off every nerve and twitching every muscle.

Faced as she was with a rather passionate assault, Octavia stopped trying to retreat and instead attempted to weather the barrage. Occasionally she would reflexively try to kiss back, but it felt rather clumsy and uncoordinated, so for the most part she refrained.

Not that Vinyl was a master of lip-play; the unicorn seemed convinced that as long as her lips were pressing against the general area of Octavia’s muzzle they were in the right place. The cellist had read no small amount of guides for exactly this situation, but it was particularly difficult to recall any useful information when being subjected to such raw emotion.

Breathing heavily, they parted at last, this time for longer than a second. Vinyl’s white cheeks were flushed red and her expression was of confused surprise, as if shocked at her own actions. Octavia couldn’t help but be a little curious herself. What had started as a dazed, half-considered desire had quickly become something more thanks to her enthusiasm.

“Sorry,” squeaked Vinyl, somehow managing two voice cracks in one word.

“I… am not,” replied the cellist. Seeing her friend’s eyebrows rise slightly, she elaborated. “While I’m still not… not sure what to th-think, I would be lying if I told you I hated it. Um, make of that what you will.” She panted at the end, still short of breath.

The other mare seemed to be struggling to form any words, licking her lips as if about to start speaking but ultimately remaining silent. Only the sound of her computer gently whirring nearby kept them from descending into true stillness.

“I’m not sure-“ she finally began, but her voice cracked again and she stopped, casting those garnet eyes around the room as if looking for an escape. “I mean, I don’t know-“ Another voice crack. She cleared her throat and swallowed. “I have no idea what I’m doing.” The DJ gave a breathless laugh, apparently not addressing anypony in particular. “Ohhh Celestia, what am I doing?” Her eyes shot back to Octavia. “What are we doing?”

Shrugging slightly, the cellist could offer no adequate response. The answer eluded her as much as it did the other mare. All she could do was watch the red eyes that had captivated her to the point of near-delirium. They still held a subtle, almost hypnotising quality to them, bright as they were.

Octavia forced herself to look away. “Vinyl…” she said quietly. “When… when I’ve been unsure about something in the past, my mother- oh sweet Celestia my mother!” Her eyes widened as she recalled the content of the last conversation she had shared with the older mare. “She’s going to murder me!”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because I just kissed-“ Catching herself, the cellist lowered her voice considerably. “Because I just kissed a mare!” she hissed, looking around as though her mother was about to crawl out from beneath the bed and attack.

“How the hay is she gonna know that?” For once, the DJ was being the rational one.

“She’ll find out sooner or later. She always finds out everything sooner or later.” Her voice was quiet, almost the tone of a frightened filly.

“Wow. Okay, I think I’m getting a pretty clear idea of your childhood.”

Octavia began to pace nervously. “Whenever I did something she didn’t like, I was whisked off to a psychologist. She would stare silently at me until I spilled every one of my secrets.”

“What?! Are you serious?” The unicorn couldn’t help but feel guilty, remembering her first impression of the grey mare as a stuck-up, boring snob. Of course she didn’t have much visible flavour; her individuality had been practically beaten out of her! No secrets, no hiding places, no thought to call her own… she didn’t grow up, she was grown. Anger rose within her like a leviathan from the ocean floor, centred on the misty silhouette of the ‘mother’.

“I’m afraid so. And… I think it’s gotten to the point where that’s the only way I can find resolution when I’m… not sure about things.” Octavia deliberately looked everywhere but at the mare beside her.

Vinyl couldn’t help but feel hurt at that. As absurd as it was, it still hit hard realising that her dream might not be coming true after all. “Okay,” she said quietly.

“I’m sorry, Vinyl. I wish I could be like you and let everything slide, but… my head is just… filled with all these things and… I need to sort them out before… well, I don’t know. Before anything more.”

“It’s okay,” the DJ repeated, this time with a small smile. “I did kinda lose control there. I shouldn’t have forced… I mean, I shouldn’t be so pushy when I’m as confused as you are.”

“Yes, well… what’s done is done, and now I would like to untangle my thoughts before I trip over them again.”

Octavia hesitated in the silence that followed, but thought better of whatever crossed her mind and instead walked slowly to the door. Vinyl inwardly shouted at herself, unwilling to simply let the moment end. I can’t let her leave! She’ll never come back to me! As absurd as it was, that was the thought that made her speak. “Wait!” The treble-clef-marked mare stopped mid-step and looked back nervously. Swallowing, the DJ realised the only way to avoid stammering like a little filly was to blurt it out. “I-didn’t-hate-it-either. Uh, the kissing, I mean. It was… yeah.”

The only response Octavia dared to give was a little, oddly grateful smile.

When the door shut quietly behind her, Vinyl was left alone once more with naught but a half-finished song on her computer… and a cellist on her lips.

---

The receptionist looked surprised despite the milling groups of students in the lobby. “Miss Octavia? How may I be of service?”

Summoning her most convincing smile, the cellist stepped up to the counter. “I was wondering if I could set up an appointment with the current student psychologist.”

“Certainly!” replied the receptionist, perhaps a little too eagerly for Octavia’s liking. Most of the staff seemed to behave rather oddly around her, and she was starting to suspect involvement of the maternal kind. “We have a system that rotates all the-“

“Um, pardon me for interrupting, but I would like to make the appointment quickly.” She didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but the thought of her mother put her on edge.

“Oh of course! My deepest apologies, Miss Octavia. I’ll just call his office and see if he’s free right now.” The unicorn floated a phone up to her ear and rapidly tapped at the keypad with magic. A trickle of sweat ran down the back of her neck. “Hello? Yes, this is reception. We have Octavia here wondering when your next open slot is. Oh? Right now? Well, that’s very fortunate! I’ll send her right up.” Hanging up, she gave Octavia another slightly-too-happy smile. “Well gosh, that was lucky! Just head up the stairs over there and take a right. It’s the last room on the right.”

“Thank… you?” Slightly bewildered yet grateful for the prompt service nonetheless, the cellist followed the directions, marvelling as middle aged administration workers and highly-trained lecturers stepped out of her way politely. It was like one of those jokes from high school that everypony got except her, and just as frustrating.

Just before she reached the office, a stallion was shoved out of it. It was the same pony from Vinyl’s art class, only looking slightly more haggard. “Hey, I wasn’t done talking yet!” he said angrily. After a muffled reply from within the office, he rolled his eyes and trudged down the hall, shoving past Octavia.

While not entirely sure what to make of that little encounter, the cellist did her best to ignore it. As much as she wanted to let her mind run away on a tangent trying to figure out the rude ejection of that stallion, she couldn’t afford to avoid her own problems… especially since she was now living with one of them.

Oh Celestia, how can I even face her again after that?

The office was small, almost cramped, with most of the available space taken up by a large desk flanked by chairs on either side of it. The pony behind it was doubled over, flicking through files in a drawer. His frizzy red mane bobbed in a very familiar way, and as he sat upright and deposited a file on the desk, she saw why.

“Hey there Octavia!” Psych beamed. “Ready to knock your school worries on the head?”

“Not with you.” She turned to leave.

“Hey, wait a second! I’m just as qualified as every other psychologist on the roster,” he said defensively.

“Yes, and you also spent most of this semester encouraging me to fight with another student.”

Wincing, the tutor-cum-councillor scratched the back of his head guiltily. “When you put it that way it sounds mean, but it was all just a bit of fun! You could have told me to stop at any moment. Besides, that stopped weeks ago.”

“Regardless, I… don’t think I can discuss this particular problem with you.” Octavia felt rather guilty herself; who was she to be picky with psychologists?

After a moment’s silence, Psych leaned forward. “Does it involve Vinyl?” he asked quietly.

She nodded. Everything involves Vinyl.

“Octavia…” he sighed. “Look, I want to help you with whatever is wrong, but I’ll need you to trust me. I realise I don’t present the most… professional image in class, but I take my duties very seriously.”

The cellist looked at his face, but found no trace of mirth there. Not a twitch at the corner of his mouth nor a twinkle in his eyes. “Alright…” she said cautiously, closing the door and taking a seat.

“So.” He crossed his hooves. “What’s up?”

Oh crap, now she had to actually tell him.

“I… suppose I should explain a few things first.” The charade came crashing down. “Vinyl and I are friends. We’ve been friends since the first assignment.” She sighed and jammed her eyes shut. “You were right; we had a lot more in common than we thought.”

When no response was given, she peeked at the stallion. His expression was unchanged and he made no indication that he was about to capitalise on the confession. Encouraged by his professionalism, she continued.

“We… we’ve actually become quite close over the last few weeks. I’m not sure what you know from that file, but I didn’t have any friends in high school. Vinyl offered a hoof of friendship and I seized it with all of my might. I thought I was being a little possessive of her, but lately I’ve been wondering if she was just as lonely as me. Anyway, that doesn’t matter now.” She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. It didn’t work. “What matters is that we’ve become such close friends that Vinyl even managed to convince the student coordinator to let her move in with me.”

Octavia allowed herself a little smile. “It has been wonderful. I’ve never felt so close to somepony who isn’t family before. Or… well no, I think I feel closer to her than my family.”

Psych smiled as well, but it was understanding and genuine rather than mocking. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Her smile faltered. “But… it’s changed. I still feel very close to her, but it’s… I’m not even sure what it is. I want to spend as much time with her as I can, just like before, but now I’m not thinking about companionship or watching a movie together or joking in Blues Tavern. I find myself thinking about… about how soft her hooves are and how her coat looks like powdered diamond… and… and…” She surprised herself by sniffing back a tear. The stallion across from her pushed a tissue box forward but she shook her head. “No, it’s okay, I’m fine. I shouldn’t even be crying, this isn’t sad.”

“Ponies don’t just cry when they’re sad. They can cry from happiness, from fear, or even from love. Please don’t hold back if you feel the need. Tears can help more than you might think.” His voice was calm, kind, his tone one of simple understanding. It was odd coming from the normally-energetic tutor, but it helped nonetheless.

She took a tissue gratefully. “Thank you.” After a few seconds to gather her thoughts, the cellist soldiered onwards. “I… I’m not quite as naïve as many ponies think. I know what these feelings for Vinyl are, in essence, even if… even if I’m not quite ready to admit them yet. The problem is that I’ve never liked anypony in this way before, especially not a m-mare.”

Taking a moment to consider her words, Psych reclined back in his chair. “Realising one’s sexuality is rarely a straightforward process. Ah, pardon the pun.” He reddened slightly but the grey mare didn’t penalise him for it, instead looking out the window at the grassy court. “And coupled with the fact that Vinyl is your first true friend, I can only imagine how conflicted you must feel. However, you’ve maintained perfect composure during class despite this. I must tentatively conclude that something has happened, an event of sorts, to make you seek outside help.”

Octavia nodded, still looking away. “I… saw her without those glasses of hers for the first time. I never thought of myself as the type to be entranced easily, but…”

“Ah. Did she notice you staring? Or did you… do something?”

“I did something,” she whispered.

“What happened?” the tutor asked quietly.

“I kissed her.” Saying it out loud seemed to consolidate a million thoughts at once. She kissed Vinyl. On the lips. Her first kiss ever was with a mare, and not just that, but her best friend too.

“And… what was Vinyl’s reaction?” Psych almost seemed to brace himself.

Octavia couldn’t help but blush, remembering the sudden, insistent pressure on her lips and the taste of Vinyl and the feel of her breath as she desperately kept pushing. “She kissed me back.”

“Well, I might be getting rusty, but that sounds like a good thing.”

“It is… and it isn’t. There are too many things in play here; my mother, the other students, my studies… It’s too much to process at once.”

“So don’t process it,” he suggested simply. At her raised eyebrow, he elaborated. “Don’t overthink it. I know for a fact you are blasting through schoolwork much faster than your tutors can issue it. Your mother is all the way up at her estate, last I heard, and even if she found out the second you kissed Vinyl it would take a few days for her to get her affairs in order before travelling down here. The other students have their own problems, trust me, I’ve spoken to hundreds of them.”

“What should I do then?” Octavia dropped the tissue in a small bin and straightened her mane.

“Take a few weeks off studying altogether. Two, to be precise.”

“But exams are in three weeks!” exclaimed the cellist.

“Yes they are, and you are so ridiculously prepared for them that they might as well be kindergarten crayon colouring competitions. Trust me, you’ll be fine. Go to lectures and tutorials like usual, take notes, but leave it at that. You have more important things to put energy into.” The orange-coated stallion gave a smile reminiscent of his usual demeanour.

“I think you’re the first teacher to ever tell me not to study, but very well. What should I do in that time?”

“Talk to Vinyl. Tell her what’s going through your mind. I think she likes you quite a bit.”

As giddy as that thought made her feel, Octavia wasn’t done. “So I’m supposed to just talk for two weeks?”

He waved a hoof. “Get dinner together, go see movies, all that stuff. Just spend time with her and your conflicted feelings will resolve themselves.”

“Is it really that easy?” she asked hopefully.

“It can be, if you let it. Remember, don’t overthink everything, just do anything. Or, ‘don’t think, just do’. Let your natural response be your actual response, and you’ll see the truth.” He blinked. “Hey, that was pretty good. You can quote me on that, if you like.”

They chuckled together, and the cellist felt better with every laugh. Simply voicing all of her worries, having somepony to confide in, was making all the difference.

I like Vinyl, but there is- stop.

“I like Vinyl,” she said, starting to beam.

“Perhaps you should tell her that?” replied Psych with a wink.

I want to be with her right now, but this- stop.

“That is an excellent idea!” She slid off the chair and walked over to the door, pausing only to look over her shoulder. “Thank you.” He nodded and waved as she left the room.

When the hoofsteps had faded from earshot, he slowly opened the file. On top of several detailed pages of psychological evaluations was a little yellow sticky note, one he had noticed before but always ignored.

Psych,

You’ll let me know if my Octavia comes to see you while you’re on councillor duty, won’t you?

It would be ever so sweet of you.

-L

For a long moment, he stared at the words, their perfect hoof-written style reminding him of the mare who’d just left. Every curl and flick was flawless, every word possessing weight beyond its appearance.

Then, with a casual brush of his right hoof, the note was peeled away and sent fluttering into the air, twirling and spiralling downwards until it came to rest beside a tissue at the bottom of a small bin.

“Oops,” he whispered, closing the file once more.

No references. Probably.

A little note on chronology, in case some of you are confused. You've probably realised that fairly large amounts of time can pass in this story, between chapters or even between scenes, so let me clarify. Vinyl and Octavia have been at university for almost one full semester, which is about 13-14 weeks.
A little note on seasons: Intentionally vague most of the time, I know. It's cold and miserable most of the year in Manehattan. However, I will say that I'm planning a snowy Hearths Warming Eve, and it's going to be adorable.

And that's all for now! Throw down a comment or throw up a thumb if you're enjoying the story, I read each and every comment even if I can't reply to them.