If I could tell how long I've been in this gog-forsaken place, I could tell Paradox Space that it was the worst however-long-period-of-time of my unlife. The fake Earth-Sun is still real enough to dose this whole place with obnoxious rays of human heat. Luckily, this place is extremely dry, so no humidity could ruin my hair even further. This is probably the worst example of my luck powers ever since that teal bitch un-erotically impaled me.
I touch the soft fur of an absurd Earth hoof-beast; it is rather nice and romantic to imagine riding it through the orange dream-bubble desert towards adventure. But I am stuck in here tending these "horses" until they're pretty instead of doing some more constructive. I gave up on trying to make the horses behave, every time I use the brush my "fiancé" brought me they retaliate and use their hooves to bring their primitive way of horsy punishment upon my "criminal" act of making them into the most precious little horses the orange desert with the lone stable in the middle of nowhere has ever seen!
And speaking of orange, here is my fiancé with bursting through the stable's door with a foot wielding leathery boots that don't even have rockets.
He greets me with a pathetic smile and carelessly happy look at his stupid void white eyes. I can't really complain though, my eyes are also pure white ever since dying, all of my 8 gloooooooorious pupils gone for good.
He put down a pail full of cleaning supply for the lonely horse he managed to capture and winks at me.
"Are you going to use this pail for the regular human use of washing or are you going to do something else?" I tried looking angry and not seductive, but he just winced and smiled like an idiot.
He calls me a human food sweetener and tells me he has special plans for me, but first we must complete our duties. He hands me another, more convoluted brush for the horse and smiles as I pick it up and approach the beast slowly.
It tried to bite several times but once I stopped trying it just stood there looking majestic and shit. I slowly put the scruffy part of the brush to the white fur and the horse immediately tremble and sounds its protest so I retract with anger.
"Stupid hoof-8east, why don't you just obeeeeeeeey?!" I utter and in anger. My orange fiancé laughs at my adorable inability to get the horse to cooperate and I get angry and throws the brush onto the dirty ground. My loving supporting fiancé just fumbles his eyes with a delightful smile and utters a racial slur about high-bloods who can't do any physical labor. I get really angry and punch him in the human-balls.
Watching him wraith in pain relaxes me and reminds me the reason I agreed to marry him in the first place, the valuable ring he possesses.
"Alright, fair enough." I say. "Now please show me how to do it properly, loooooooove."
He smiles while still in pain and explains to me how to do it after he apologizes for the slur and promises to never say something like it again.
Despite the excellence in which he recaps the process of horse-tending, I still fail in making the annoying 8itch to cooperate.
"Enough playing games, now I try you on for reals!" I say and drop my jacket on the ground and mount the horse, causing her to freak out and attempt to shake me off. I lie on my stomach and grip gray left palm onto her skin and fur, my other hand scrubbing the annoying nonsense bitch which is now officially named Terezi.
My fiancé freaks out as much as the horse, seeing my violent approach. Terezi kicks him with her foot and shoots him across the stable, giving me much joy but also putting me off my focus. I stumble as Terezi bests me and fall down into the ground, my pointy horns being lodged in the orange mud.
Terezi runs around frantically and tries to escape, but luckily she is chained to the wall, like I wished the real Terezi would have.
"Did you see what that bitch did to us?!" I dislodge myself and stand up. I point at my brush still locked in the hairs of Terezi's mane.
My orange fiancé gets up and painfully walks across the stable to be by my side.
He tell me my methods are wrong (!) but this time he's trying to be as sweet about it as possible, omitting any possible offensive thing he could've said. I feel my blood-pump quiver and a strange emotion goes through. The determination in his position, yet also the shaking fear of upsetting me, it's exactly what Tavros wasn't. And it was exactly what I wanted in a m8sprit.
I let him show me how to do it. He grabs my hand, but softly, and moves it closer to Terezi's fur. I'm reluctant at first to do approach the raging she-witch, but as he moves my hands the right way, the three of us relax.
His hand is small and quivering and weak, but his fingers are rough and skillful like he's been drawing for sweeps on end.
With the three of us in unison, he guides my hand and we brush Terezi together.