#rarilight

When Rarity had been alive, there was always something keeping her from saying it out loud. Maybe both of them had been waiting for the other to confess. Maybe the idea that Twilight would have to go on without her kept Rarity from confessing. Maybe she was too generous for her own good.

What was keeping her now, though?

Keeping her nervous, like a filly with a schoolgirl crush. 

Rarity had been so important to her. Too important to confess to. Because Rarity had one life, and Twilight had found herself blessed with many lifespans. It felt selfish, to ask Rarity to spend her one life, to waste it on her. Somepony who couldn’t give her everything she wanted in life.

Every time she went to confess there was another excuse. Another stallion Rarity was obsessing over, or dating, or a mare that Rarity was absolutely head over heels for. She couldn’t say something that would change things between them. 

She couldn’t ruin their friendship.

When Rarity had married that stallion that Twilight could hardly remember the name of, she’d had 3 foals. And she seemed so happy. Too happy. Twilight wouldn’t have ruined it all for her. Twilight was perfectly content with the discontent that came with being Auntie Twi. 

Even in the later years of Rarity’s life, when her husband had died, something kept her from saying it. First it was that Rarity was mourning. And then it was that Rarity was sick.

And now? What was keeping her now?

Rarity was already dead.

“I love you Rarity.” She said aloud, finally. But the weight on her chest did not lessen, so she said it again and again. Long into the night.