Spike had thought, at one time, that he knew what love was. The first day Twilight had taken him to Ponyville, he was convinced he felt it. He thought love took physical form in the shape of a pristine white unicorn with a regal violet mane, whose azure gaze made his heart race and his face fill with heat.
It took him a lot of growing up to see how wrong he was.
He rolled over under the blanket and faced the mare that lay close beside him. Her pale pink mane had fallen over her face, and Spike gently brushed it away with a claw so he could admire his yellow-coated beauty.
Fluttershy sighed softly in her sleep. Spike smiled to himself and kissed her delicately on the forehead, feeling her warmth underneath his reptilian lips.
There, in the post-midnight darkness of Fluttershy's cottage, Spike felt quite sure that he now knew what love was.