A Message and a Drink

She hesitated. There was very little to hide anymore but the story, and she felt like it would come out at some point or another. Curses. It always did, and with the stories came Her. She didn't want to talk about Her. Not after retaining herself for so long without incident. Therapy had definitely helped her out, and she didn't want to lose all of her progress.

Please. Please don't break me.

"Just sit for a moment," Rose said quietly. "I'll be back. You may start, if you wish."

She returned to the kitchen, getting the thimble-sized plate and returning with it, setting it down in front of the concerned Bella. With a reassuring nod from her pony friend, the fairy began to eat, daintily nibbling on the shredded leaves.

Rose was silent for a few more minutes, eating without a sound. Finally, without looking up, she spoke again.

"Ask away. It's inevitable, and... you know what? I might just feel a little better getting it off of my chest for you. Literally."

She wasn't really sure if that was the truth or not, but she was willing to take the chance that she might actually feel better, for once, by telling the truth. It was a long truth, to be sure. She prayed for the best.

Misfit just nodded as Rose left the room. Her head was swimming with thoughts, with one thought screaming louder than all the rest. 'Be careful' It said. 'Be careful. Don't hurt her. Don't hurt yourself.' It felt as if her very thoughts were walking on needles. What if she said the wrong thing? What if she paused at the wrong moments? She knew how it felt to be on the edge, to feel as if your sanity could just snap with any misplaced phrase.

As Rose sat down, the filly said nothing. The mare began eating, but she didn't touch the pasta. Even though her stomach was complaining, it felt as if her throat had been blocked. She wouldn't, couldn't eat, not until something got settled or was eased. She didn't deserve to really eat right now. She had seen the scar, she was the one causing Rose's anxiety. And that wasn't okay. If she hadn't been here, Rose probably could've had a nice quiet dinner. But instead, the mare was kind to her, and here was Misfit, imposing on her resources, privacy, and company. And she felt terrible for it. The least she could've done was try and make the evening enjoyable, but she can't even do that.

She studied the wood's natural patterns on the table, her eyes traveled up and down the age lines. Rose was just gazing down at her food as she chewed quietly, and the filly felt almost scared to look up. She could be so stupid sometimes.

"Ask away. It's inevitable, and... you know what? I might just feel a little better getting it off of my chest for you. Literally."

Misfit finally brought herself to look up, an expression of guilt still lingering on her face. It quickly washed away, replaced with puzzlement and concern. "Well... I.... Where did... H-how?" She stumbled out. She then rubbed the bridge of her nose with her hoof, sighing to herself. "S-sorry. What I'm trying to say... how did you get the... The... W-well, the scar? Whatever it is, it surely can't be that b-bad for all this concern..."

Celestial dammit, how was she supposed to go about this? Why is she saying everything wrong? "I-I mean, not like it isn't horrible and s-serious and all that, n-no! That's not what I meant at all!"

She looked away. "I'm sorry. What I meant by th-that is... Y-you're a kind mare. You don't deserve any pain or grief, from your past or present. The s-scar shouldn't be worth making you feel so... Anxious. You don't deserve that. I-I'm sorry. I might not be the best to talk to..."