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Its Okay To Be Boring on Christmas 2021 better ending edition.

By Digiridoguy

Summary: After having his heart broken, Anon makes a new friend. Or could she be something more?

Tags: [Greentext] [Human] [2nd Person] [Hmofa] [Horse] [Rat] [Karaoke] [Heartbreak] [Holidays] [Christmas] [Party] [Squirting] [NSFW] [Horse Pussy] [Vaginal] [Blowjob]

Wordcount: 9671

Carnation drawing by: https://twitter.com/Danonymous13

> You're Anon.

> 20 years old, six feet tall, and currently outside.

> Five stories up, sitting on the stairs of a fire escape.

> A light snow falls as the party roars behind you.

> But all that hubbub is the last thing on your mind.

> You're nothing to brag about when it comes to looks.

> You've been going to city university(™) for the last two months.

> You're aiming for a graphic design major, but your main goal in life is to get rich.

> It used to be “find a girl and get married."

> Then you found a girl.

> You remember when you met her.

> The end of your first day at university.

> You were exiting the science building to the wind howling.

> Just a brief squall to cap off the day.

> Back then, it was early enough in autumn for the falling branches to still bare leaves.

> Under a particular branch you found a sketchbook.

> It was labelled “Petunia A. Roth."

> And came with a dorm number.

> You contemplated just dropping the sketchbook at lost and found.

> Your roommate Charles, however, insisted you go and find her.

(> Currently, he's inside.

> Puking into a santa-shaped punch bowl.

> Dumb bastard.)

> So you went in search of Petunia.

> The dorm was located in the senior wing.

> The darkest portion of the compound, it seems.

> Down the shag-carpet floored hallway you walked, floorboards creaking underneath.

> Until finally you reached her bedroom.

> Room 314.

> And you knocked on the door.

> And you sheepishly looked away as the door hinges squealed.

> You held the sketchbook out to whoever was standing at the door.

> Any other unlucky idiot and you'd be handing the sketchbook to the wrong person.

> Luckily, Petunia Roth was the one to open the door.

> And the first thing you noticed was the lush green of her big eyes.

> And that pair of large incisors.

> Your thoughts of the past are interrupted by what sounds like a cacophony of Christmas bells behind you.

> You glance over your shoulder.

> You can't see anything through the holiday sticker-covered door.

> You realize that it'd be best if you quit moping and call a cab.

> So you reach down and grab your phone from your pocket.

> But your hand slips.

> Your phone falls.

> It could've gone perfectly through the fire escape's grating.

> Tumble down three floors.

> Crack and smash against nooks and crannies.

> Until finally shattering in a million pieces on the last stair.

> But instead, your phone lands on its back, not slipping through the cracks.

> Crisis averted.

> You pick up your phone as once again Christmas bells are jingling.

> And then something sharp jabs your kidney.

> And you jolt forward, flinging your phone over the railing and into the abyss below.

> As you look over the railing in search of your phone, you don't notice the sound of someone crying.

> A shadow creeps over you.

> The galvanized metal floor clanks with heavy footsteps.

> Angry, you look over your shoulder, ready to hurl insults.

> You bite your tongue as you try to make sense of what you're looking at.

> It looks to be a giant black mop with legs.

> Big, fluffy, white-furred legs.

> Wrapped in ribbons and bells.

> Sniffling, coughing and …

> Whinnying?

> You realize your looking at the khaki-covered ass of an anthro horse.

> Your eyes turn skywards, but you don't see the back of her head.

> She's hunched over the railing to the right of the door.

> Facing away from you.

> She must've noticed you.

> In which case, did she purposely mean to jab you with the door?

> You stand up and turn around, raising an arm.

> A cold gust blows.

> You realize she's taller than you by a foot.

> Far off in the distance, a car engine roars.

> Reflexively you twitch to the sound, touching her shoulder.

> The sniffling stops.

> You vaguely remember Petunia (or one of her friends) gossiping about some potheaded horse once or twice.

> Something along the lines of “Cranny" or “Carny", you fuzzily remember.

“Excuse me!" You grunt.

> That came off...

> Too polite.

> “Oh" she sniffles.

> “Sorry."

> You grumble something along the lines of “you better be" before looking over the railing at the shattered remains of your phone.

> Having gone through enough anger this night, you skipped bargaining and went straight to a depressive acceptance.

> Your phone was destroyed.

> Now you have no choice but to seek a ride from another party goer.

> Looking behind you, the equine lady was out of place.

> She breathed erratically, eyes red with tears.

> And she was shivering, which further caused he bells to go a ting-ting tingling.

> Then you realize why.

> She didn't have any pants.

> Just a pair of shorts beneath her red sweater.

> And no ankle warmers either, just red ribbons tied in bows around her ankles.

> And bells.

> At least she has big thighs.

> Then, as you look her over, your eyes meet.

> The bell-tingling stops.

> She seems to stop crying as well.

> There would be an awkward silence if it weren't for the fact the party still sounded in the background.

> Eventually, she decides to speak first.

> “Does this staircase have room for one more?"

> You blink, and then having finally understood what she meant, you slide over.

> “Thanks" she says, jingling as she squeezes between you and the railing.

> Silence once more.

> You're the one to break it this time.

“Is it smart to be sitting on these cold stairs without any pants?"

> You use this inquiry as a reason to look her over once more.

> “No. But I didn't think I'd be outside tonight."

> She wipes mascara off with her sleeve.

> “Or be single."

“Tell me about it."

> She looks at you with a smirk. “Really?"

“It's just a saying."

> You were curious, admittedly, but really weren't in that much of a mood to talk about relationships.

> She blows air out of her nose and looks around.

> “Yeah, I guess it isn't very polite to dump my...uh…"

> She waves her hand around before slapping her knee.

> Jingle.

> “'relationship drama' on you without even knowing your name."

“Anon."

> “Nice to meet you anon. I'm-"

“Carny?"

> Her bells ring as she's taken back by your interruption.

> Quickly composing herself she coughs a “yeah" before looking away.

“Oh great."

> Your conscience chimes in.

> In an attempt to not seem like an asshole, you apologize profusely.

> “Its okay. My real name's Carnation."

> She scratches the back of her neck.

> “Carny is the nickname he gave me."

“Your boyfriend?"

> She wipes her tear-soaked cheek with a wrist tuft.

> “My ex."

> Sighing, you decide to bite the bait.

> After all, maybe after listening to her pity party she'll give you a ride.

“What'd he do?" you sigh.

> “Dumped me."

> She angrily states.

> Then, with a deep breath; “He-he said I was 'too eccentric.'"

> To the sound of a belltower collapsing she raises.

> “What the fuck does that even mean? Is there something wrong with grabbing life by the balls?"

> She's asking how her boyfriend would call her eccentric, when she's spouting quotes like that?

> Emotionally exhausted, the horse girl quickly sits back down and begins crying again.

> You pat her on the shoulder, but she hugs you close.

> With every sob into your bare neck she jingle-jangles some more.

> Maybe you should ask her to take off the bells.

> It takes a while for to compose herself.

> When she's back to sniffling like before, she clears her throat.

> “Alright, enough of my uh..."

> She wipes her eyes and looks at you, attempting a heartwarming smile.

> “Problems...why're you out here, anon?"

> Looking into the blue pupils of this equine dame, you consider bullshitting some reason for your isolation.

> Saying something Like “social anxiety" or “too many teenie weenies."

> But fuck it.

> If she's like any other girl, she'll listen to your story, pretend to give a fuck, offer some minimalistic form of consolidation and then maybe a ride if she's feeling extra kind.

> You straighten the collar of your coat, lean against the fire escape railing, and just start talking.

> It was weeks ago.

> "Alpha Poliorcetes is having a Christmas party and it just so happens someone wants you there."

"What do you mean by that, Charles?"

> You were sorting papers on your desk when Charles started talking.

> There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he replied.

> "Petunia Roth."

> Your heart stopped.

> "Friends wit' my girl."

> Oh god.

> "Asked me about you."

> Ohhh fuck.

> "You haven't talked to her since you know you did that good deed and did a 360 without getting properly acquainted.

> You drop a pile of notes and smack your forehead.

> "But dont worry, Charlie's got you a date."

"A frat party was your first choice for a date?"

> Charles tisked a toothy smile.

> "S'where I met mine. Plus -its Christmas, man. You can't just go home with the only woman in your life being your freaking mom."

> He waltzed over to the little bathroom you shared and checked himself in the mirror.

> "You aint gonna learn about that girl from being in the library all the time."

> You were embarrassed by him mentioning the library so much he had to repeat the next question twice.

> "So, you in or nah?"

> Truth be told, you were desperate for female attention.

> So maybe this was a chance to finally get a Petunia.

> But you had one thought on your mind.

"It depends on when the party is."

> "If I tell you, you better not skip out on talking to her, alright?"

> You rolled your eyes at him, but gave a "yes" nod.

> "Its on Christmas Eve."

> Carny interrupts your story with a whisper.

> "What did your friend mean by that?"

"By what?"

> "About the library?"

"I went to the library a lot." You reply.

> "And did you meet her there?"

> The horse girl turns her head, wide eyed like a curious long-faced puppy.

"She did go there occasionally, but I didn't talk to her."

> Her gaze remains vigilant.

"I studied important stuff."

> Her eyes are matched by an innocent smile.

> She knew you were holding back on information.

> And you were.

"Like Lucanthropology."

> You realize she probably didn't know what that word meant.

"Its the study of Anthros."

> Ding a ling.

> Now her smile widens into a shit eating grin.

> "You looking for a Tiger trooper, anon?"

> Oh now you've said too much.

> You sniff and drag a finger across your lip like in one of those animes.

"Sure."

> Carny takes a step forward, the loud clop against metal echoing with the chime of her bells.

> You twitch, nervous as the seven foot tall horse girl leans forward until her eyes are on level with yours.

> Crossing her arms against her sweater-covered chest, emphasizing her breasts even more, she snorted.

> "Continue your story."

> Jump to today, Christmas Eve.

> An hour or more before you found yourself standing on that fire escape.

> Charles had arrived to pick you up 20 minutes late.

> His girl's car was a small VW Beetle, and from window to window you could see it was already packed.

> An alligator anthro with big pink lips drove, drapped in six puffy winter coats.

> A human-mongoose couple were making out in the passenger side.

> Charles was against the rear window, his girl next to him in the middle.

> On the other side of the car, farthest from you, was Petunia.

> As you stepped into the cramped (And hot, the AC was roaring inside) automobile, you butted snow-coat covered shoulders with Charles.

> "Sorry bud. Last minute transportation change." whispered your roommate.

> You nodded, then looked to Petunia, staring out the window in annoyance.

> Again Charles chimed in, in an even lower voice. "Its her car."

> Oh.

> Over the radio crackled Chuck Berry's "Run Run Rudolph".

> A hard smack from a scaled hand and the static dissipates.

> Sounding from the front, past the custom leather seats, popped and smacked the hmofa couple as they made out.

> To your left, Charles and his girl idly chit chatted.

> Petunia said nothing.

> You leaned forward, trying for a better chance to see her, and maybe come up with something to talk about.

> She glanced your ways.

> No words left her lips.

> You gave a little wave.

> She waved back.

> You said hi.

> She gave no reply.

> Everyone must have noticed because even the radio was turned down.

> Still silent, she leaned back into her seat and sighed

> Then everyone else went back to what they were doing before.

> You pantomimed her action, and stared out the window as the car continued downtown.

> Passing brilliantly decorated streetlamps, snaked with red and green Christmas lights on every boulevard and block.

> At least the city had holiday cheer.

> The beetle stopped before an apartment complex, a banner draped over its entrance; "Merry Christmas."

> The alligator drivers tries to look over her shoulder and speak, though the six winter coats Draped over her shoulder muffled her words.

> "We're here."

> Doors fly open and your standing in the cold on the sidewalk, watching Petunia speed plod around the car trunk to the apartment stairs and through the entrance.

> Charles, his Girl and the other couple are rushing after her.

> As you trail behind your roommate shoots off some reassurance.

> "Listen, we get in there. We warm up with some drinks. She'll open up to you. She'll be your gal. Alright?. Things'll be good. She's just in a mood. Things will be fine."

> "Things will be fine."

> "But things weren't fine, were they?"

> Jingle Jangle

> Goddamn were those things getting annoying.

> Carny was now next to you, leaning over the fire escape.

> Staring at the sky as snow continued to fall.

> It was cute how a little pile of snow gathered at the edge of her nose.

> She noticed, and her wunderlust eyes flashed into a semi-serious scowl.

> Then she knocked the snow off her nose and returned to that innocent stare up into space.

> "Ahem."

"Yeah. Things didn't turn out fine."

> Before you can continue to speak, she butts in.

> "I'm not trying to be rude..."

> Now her eyes were closed, muzzling facing the alley below in a sad demeanor.

> "You describe a lot of pointless details. Can you just tell me how she broke your heart?"

> The nerve of this oversized pony!

> For a second you thought about just walking off.

> Maybe taking the fire escape stairs and ladders.

> Then again you wouldn't care if you had to encounter your friends inside.

> And Petunia.

> Taking a deep breath, frost blinds your face.

> Shit, it was getting cold out here.

> Jing-Jing-Jing-Jing-Jangle

> You notice that while she was steel bent over the railing, Carny's knees were shaking.

> Oh god.

> Of course she wants you to hurry up.

> She's getting cold while you talk.

> She's been cold since she first came out here, wasn't she?

> You suck up your pride, sigh, and speak frankly.

"Charles said his roommate wasn't me but another guy that Petunia liked. Petunia learned the truth, but let me get in her car and be driven here anyway. Only so, in person, she could say she didn't like me."

> You punctuate your explanation with a shrug.

"Because I was boring."

> It's time you get over your pity party any way and move on.

> Pulling your hands out of your pockets you go for the door handle.

> "Whatchya doing?"

> The handle is frozen, and ice crystals crinkle to the ground as you jiggle it.

> You speak over your shoulder as you fail to work the door free.

"Going inside."

>"Why?"

> You point at her knees.

"Your freezing listening to me talk."

> Jingle

> "Whaaaat?"

> Jangle

> Carny has puppy eyes again, though this naievete might be genuine.

> Again you point at her knees.

"Your knees are shivvering. That's a sign your muscles are working to stay warm."

> She whinnies and chuckles.

> "My knees are fine! I just don't sit still w-"

> "Wah-achoo!"

> Jingle Jangle!

> You duck towards the door as her equine nostrils flare.

> Yeah, its best to get her out of the cold now.

> But the handle still wont budge.

> Banging against the glass door, you try to get the attention of someone inside.

> "I dont mind the cold."

> Carny says nasally as she wipes her nose with a sweater sleeve decorated in little elves.

> Inside, 'rocking around the Christmas tree" reverbed louder and louder.

> No wonder you can't be heard.

> Sighing, you face the horse girl and continue the conversation.

"So why did you ask me to hurry up with my story?"

> With a deep breath, Carny gets off the railing and stretches an arm to the sky.

> After a few pops, sighs, and bell jingles, she slings an arm over your shoulder.

> "So we can enjoy Christmas eve."

> Through your gortex jacket, her hoof capped fingers crush your bicep.

>"It only comes once a year! You wouldn't want to wasted it moping about do you?"

> Something about her throbs in your heart.

> Was it the kindness in her words?

> The dumb toothy grin plastered across her face?

> Or the tiny icicles knotted and locked around her hair and cheeks.

> The snow flurries worsened as the wind picked up and howled.

> You try to talk to Carny, but she doesn't respond.

> On your tip toes (with a little blush) you yell.

"I WOULDNT WANT TO FREEZE ON CHRISTMAS EITHER."

> The horse girls ear's twitched and fluttered.

> "WHAT?"

> Point at the door.

"DOOR STUCK."

> She understands that.

> "OKAY!"

> Gently shoving you aside she grabs the handle and grunts.

> POP.

> Jingle.

> Ice cracks off the edges of the door.

> The crisp reverbing voice of Frank Sinatra fills the night air.

> Carny takes a step to the right (Jangle) and makes a " after you " motion.

> You're both inside within a moments notice.

> The fire escape you exited through was in the Fraternity's top floor kitchen.

> Intercome speakers overhead blared music a dj worked on the first floor.

> The heat of the fraternity ovens all around makes your cheeks chap.

> Grabbing a cookie sheet off the counter you blow your nose.

> Nostrils clear, peppermint eminates from the ovens around you.

> You offer a clean wax paper cooking sheet to your equine muscle.

> She waves off your offer.

> "you...could've...used...a...paper...towel..."

> She said, struggling to breath between each word.

> Was she wheezing?

"Are you okay?"

> Jingle-Jangle

> The horse girl leans forward, hands on her knees.

> Not trying to talk to you but just struggling that much to breath.

> "Im... fine..."

> She points to herself.

> "Asthma."

> Thats it.

> No more mr mopey Anon.

> While she was vulnerable, you hug Carny.

> In the tightest squeeze possible.

> You feel the cold of her nose against your forehead.

> And...snot.

> She takes a deep breath.

> And a few more just for good measure.

> Jingling with each breath, of course.

> Her back straightens as she inhales your widows peak.

> Now standing upright, the horse woman's breasts were just below your chin.

> And then she hugs you back.

> you're lifted half a foot off the tile flooring as the equine lady speaks rapidly.

> "Ohmyfuckingodiamsocolditfeelsogoodtobehereandnotsadbecausenownot thatiaintstillalitlesadbutitfeelsgoodtobesharingmiserywithsomeonelsenotsayingyou'remiserableithinkyouresweetlikethesmelloftheseovens."

> Jingle Jangle her chest falls as she exhausts her oxygen supply.

> Deep breath.

> Then she chuffs.

> "Oh god I'm sorry."

> Your boots smack against the kitchen tiles.

> Embracing you no more, Carny turns around and with a paper towel wipes your forehead.

> "Sorry..."

> You chuckle.

"I've heard of lean on me but never sneeze on me."

> She gives a hearty laugh, bells ringing with each rise of her chest.

> When both of you are done laughing, Carny holds a hoof-tipped finger to your lips.

> "I need to go make a phone call. "

> "Meet me on the first floor, by that karaoke stage they set up."

> Bells and hoof-clops sound throughought the kitchen as she runs to the exit.

> Just as she turns the corner you yell.

"So are we enjoying Christmas Eve together?"

> Over the booms and jangles you think you hear a muttled "yes."

> And so you were alone in the Alpha Poliorcetes Kitchen.

> Great.

> The fact she just left you to make a phone call, and not bring you along?

> You're uncomfortable.

> The fact you're supposed to trust her to meet you at the karaoke stage?

> The stage where you last saw your roommate and Petunia?

> You're hurt.

> If she doesn't show up you'll just look like a desperate loser.

> Then again you coming here was proof enough of that.

> Behind you a microwave timer dings.

> If someone comes here looking for the cookies it'll just be a chance for more awkward self pity.

> Fuck it, might as well go to the karaoke stage.

> Say goodbye to Charles and hoof it home.

> MAYBE get a ride.

> Maybe see Carny again...

> Doubt is all in your mind as you leave the kitchen for the stairs.

> The Alpha Poliorcetes apartment complex used to be a free mason meeting zone before being purchased years ago.

> So the stairs are draped in faded yellow smelly carpets over dusty scratched maple.

> Several floors of Christmas posters and wreaths later, you reach the first floor's foyer.

> Surrounding a massive Christmas tree were an avalanche of college students.

> Not that you recognized anyone.

> You were a loner after all.

> A skip and a hop past the end of the stairs was the exit.

> A "And a happy new year!" banner hung above it.

> If you wanted to leave, this would be your best chance.

> Ten minutes was what it took to drive here, so maybe a half an hour walk to your dorms?

> The cold wouldn't be an issue.

> You were perfectly dressed for the outside.

> In fact, being inside was making you sweat.

> Another thing to make this place uncomfortable.

> Odds aren't in your thick-flanked favor, Con Carne...

> Well then just go find Charles and say goodbye.

> Moving through the storm of drunk and tipsy twenty-year-olds, you pass through the wide doorframe of the foyer into the living room.

> A foot off the top of your head, nailed to the frame, A television.

> While ahead, stood Karoake stage.

> Its nothing more than an elevated platform, ten by ten feet.

> On its every corner , surround sounds of all shapes and sizes.

> At the forefront, two mic stands, one of them empty.

> Currently its Microphone was in the mouth of a giraffe anthro.

> Slobbishly trying to sing to that one song about the italian Christmas donkey.

> To the right of the stage, a row of punches and eggnogs on a table.

> All prepared wonderfully by the various wannabe bartenders of the fraternity.

> Including the same bowl Charles had been puking into what?

> Twenty minutes ago?

> They still didnt replace it?

"Drunken dumbasses." You whisper.

> Well if the green bowl is still there Charles can't be far.

> To the stage's right, snaked the karoake line.

> You figure he's drunk enough to try, he might be in the middle of that group somewhere.

> Piss drunk and just plain pissed off faces greet you as you walk up and down and around the group.

> Charle's freckled face is nowhere to be seen.

> Just then, the giraffe steps off.

> And you see behind her comes Charles.

"Hey!"

> "Ay buddy whatup mang?"

> He offers you a handshake, nearly tumbling head first over the platform.

> Waving him off would probably make him fall over.

> So you jump on stage to tell him your goodbyes.

> But your roommate hugs you and grabs the mic.

> "Swee mang i need help"

"Yeah man you don't need to tell me."

> "You gotta sing with me man."

"Dude I'm leaving."

> The drunken fool looks ready to cry.

> "No mang you gotta stick with me mang. Rachel left me mang and I gotta get this sadness out!"

> He stabs your neck with a finger.

> "OUT!"

> Below a crowd starts to gather.

> "Are you going to sing or nah?"

> Says some bulky football player yells.

> "Other people are waiting!"

> Your arms are raised in defense but Charles takes this opportunity to shove a microphone into your face.

> "You gotta sing mang. Just this one time, mang."

> You take the mic and shoot him the hairy eyeball.

> He can barely hold the mic up to his face.

> Tears are crowding his eyes.

> Christ, the two of you were gonna be bitching about bitches after tonight.

> Fine.

> You face the crowd, but before you look at the television lyrics you whisper Charles a question.

"Whats the song?"

> "A've yourself a merry chestmis."

"Ah."

> Now looking at the television, regret and butterflies fill your stomach.

> Somewhere, someone with a remote pressed play.

> 'Have yourself a Merry Christmas. B. Crosby.' lights up the LCD display.

> You hear The flutes, the xylophone, you think a brass instrument, and then...

"Have yourself, a merry little Christmas."

"Let yourself be light."

"From now on our troubles will be out of sight."

> Charles is absolutely not pulling his weight at the moment.

> Its like he's trying to beat that giraffe from earlier at who can get more drool on the microphone.

> The good news is no one can hear your terrible singing.

> The bad news is you think these frat kids aren't going to politely tell you off.

> Time to sing like its fucking America's Got Talent.

> On the back of violins in comes the next stanza.

"Have yourself, a merry little Christmas"

"Make the yuletide gay"

"From now on our troubles will be miles away"

> You see her in the corner of your eye.

> Petunia Roth is the one working the remote for the Karaoke Television.

> She looks disgusted.

> And Disgusting.

> You found her attractive?

"Here we are as in olden days"

"Happy Golden days of yore"

"Faithful friends who are dear to us"

"Gather near to us once more."

> Oh shit Charles is slurring worse.

> He's about to collapse!

> How many punch bowls did he drink?

> Oh god you're gonna be left alone singing up here like an idiot.

> Or worse.

> Thrown the fuck off because you aren't singing like an idiot.

"Through the years, we all will be together"

"If the fates allow"

"Until then, we'll have to muddle through somehow"

"So have yourself a merry little Christmas now"

> Charles is off the stage.

> You didn't even see him fall, just hear a dull thud somewhere.

> You are alone.

> Your eyes are burning into the television.

> Your throat is dry, no music leaving your windpipe.

> A shadow falls over you.

> The xylophones swing into what would be in the recorded version a repeat of the last stanza.

"Here we are as in olden days"

"Happy Golden days of yore"

"Faithful friends who are dear to us"

"Gather near to us once more."

> In the recorded version this repeated stanza is sung by a chorus.

> Currently, its being sung by an oddly beautiful female voice.

> Your eyes finally leave the television set.

> To look to your left.

> Your "chorus" is none other than that giant Clydesdale horse you met upstairs.

> Carny.

> No.

> Carnation.

"Through the years, we all will be together"

> Her beautiful mane bouncing as she moves her head.

> Eyes closed in confidence as the song leaps from her mouth into the air.

> Her black-furred legs no longer confined in ribbons and bells.

> She's oddly stealthy without them on.

> She would do this for you?

> You suck up your stage fright.

> Stumbling, you sing along her.

"If the fates allow!"

"Hang a shining star from the highest bough!"

"And have yourself..."

> Turning away from the Television, your eyes' meet Carnation's.

> Together, you sing that last line.

"A merry..."

"little christmas..."

"Nowwwww...."

> The horns sound.

> The triangle rings.

> And the song ends.

> Silence.

> And then the crowd roars.

> Thunderous applause fills the air.

> It seems your duet attracted a lot of attention.

> What's that in the corner of your eye?

> A jealous Petunia Roth?

> Gossiping with that mongoose and crocodile?

> Maybe she doesn't think you're boring after all.

> But what Petunia Roth thinks?

> Doesn't matter.

> Who actually thought about you was that giant, friendly Clydesdale.

> Still meeting your gaze with her beautiful blue eyes.

"Carnation."

> You muttered, anxious.

> Around the stage the crowd had started to chant.

> "Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!"

> But you only heard her words.

> "Merry Christmas, Anon."

> Before her lips locked with yours.

> Gingerbread.

> That's what you taste on her lips.

> A flavor that you hope to taste more in the future.

> And god willing, never grow tired of.

> You don't bother to pull back.

> Waiting, instead, for her.

> It feels like hours.

> When she finally pulls back, you take a deep breath.

> Opening your eyes to gaze into her fluffy white muzzle.

> And see the reflection of police lights in her fur.

> "Oh hey, my rides here." your equine heartthrob chimed.

"What?"

> She replies but someone in the crowd screams.

> Panic fills the air.

> As you drop the mic and start for the exit, your arm is grabbed by Carnation.

> "Hey, we should give that guy a hand."

> She's pointing at Charles.

> Shit, she's right.

> Charles did fuck up but he was only trying to get you a gf.

> I guess in a way he is responsible for you meeting this horse gal.

> As you get off the platform you haul the freckled bastard to his feet.

> More lights in the front of the house.

> Like three cruisers' worth.

> Partygoers start to push for stage.

> Screaming, Shushing.

> Tables breaking and closets being emptied as people duck and cover.

> The weather was getting pretty bad, this party must've really fucked up if they're here.

> Shit Charles is heavy.

> Where in hell is there an exit without the police?

> As panic fills your mind, suddenly Charles has gotten lighter.

> Carnation picks him up in a fireman's carry and starts for the front door.

> Right into the arms of two police officers.

"WHAT THE HELL!"

> You start for the nearest cop.

> You weren't going to hurt him but fuck someone's got to at least talk to them.

> Maybe you can get out this situation with words.

> You skid to a stop in front of a particularly tall looking fellow.

> A horse anthro?

> But in a ski mask and police suit.

"Officer, I can explain."

> You show your hands to better get your point across.

> And receive a fist to the face.

> Your head hits the ground.

> Darkness.

> You hear, among various deep voices, that ecstatic horse lady's.

> Someone drags you from the wooden floors of the house to the cold concrete outside.

> For a moment your just there, snowfall against your face, and then you hear a car door open.

> Then you open your eyes.

> You're in the back of a police car.

> A big suv, tall enough for a horse anthro.

> Leather seats behind you.

> Plastic dividing wall ahead.

> There's a viewport for the driver and passenger to talk to you but its closed.

> Charles is already here.

> He's positioned awkwardly but alive.

> Snoring blissfully.

> Jealousy would be your current emotion if it weren't pants-shitting freight.

> You can't be arrested now!

> Things were going so good!

> Hopefully carnation is being treated well.

> She's so big they probably have her handcuffed somewhere.

> Would you risk a lot to save this kind woman?

> You only just met her, would you take a felony for her?

> On fucking Christmas, no less?

> The engines of the car roar to life.

> That was before the driverss and passenger doors open.

> Automatic start?

> In seconds the car is moving.

> Through the rear windshield you see the other two cruisers follow.

> Fuck, were you the only one they wanted?

> Or were they after Carnation?

> What did she do...?

> The ac whooshes to life, filling the cabin with hot air.

> Through the plastic you can make out some shadows.

> You see the passenger reach over and touch something on the dashboard.

> Jackson five christmas music blares through the surround sound.

> Hold on, what?

> The viewport slides open

> Revealing a familiar long face.

> "Are you okay Anon?"

> Again Carnation leaves you without words.

> The driver pipes up in a husky voice.

> "You better speak when you are spoken to."

"I'm okay!"

> She smacks the shoulder of the driving police officer.

> "I'm so sorry Anon! He thought you were my ex! Honest mistake. Uncle! You could've given him a black eye!"

> 'Uncle' chuckles.

> "Well now he knows not to break your heart."

> The mare's focus shifts to you.

> "He would never. Isn't that right, anon?"

> You shake your head 'yes' in a frantic manner.

> "Good. You okay if we go to my house, or should we drop off your roommate?"

> Charles is still asleep, arms behind his back and face drooling against the window.

"Yeah lets take him back to my room."

> You reach city university dorms in 5 minutes.

> It takes fifteen to bring the snoring Charles to your room.

> Carnation really doesn't mind fireman carrying him around.

> She notices you eyeballing while riding the elevator up to the third floor.

> "Whaaaaaat?" the mare's asks in a teasing manner.

"Nothing."

> "Are you jealous he's been in my arms longer?"

> You scratch the back of your head where a goose egg had started to form.

"no."

> Her tail smacks your side.

> "You want me to carry you?"

"no."

> "You think you can carry me?"

> This has you laughing.

"Fuck no."

> "Awwn. But I like it in porn when like the guy is manhandling the girl, like against a wall or something."

> A girl has never informed you of her tastes in porn.

> The way she worded it, does that mean she never tried it with her ex?

> Was she still a virgin?

> You can feel your pants getting tighter.

> Carnation bites her lip and looks skyward.

> If you remember correctly, anthros can smell human emotions, especially arousal.

> Hot.

> The elevator door dings open.

> She hesitates to leave, instead motioning with her hips for you to go first.

> You decline, and she sticks her tongue out.

> "You're gonna have to be a little more aggressive if you want me to do ... things."

> Taking that as an invitation, you put your hand on her ass and push her forward.

> "Hahaha hey! You know I dont live here. You could just lead me to your dorm."

> Realizing you're letting your dick dictate too much, you lead the horse to your room.

> You pull out your key, open the door, and Carnation trots past you like a train.

> She just guns it for the bunk bed and supplexes Charles into the top.

> He still doesn't wake up.

"Thats my bed." You inform her.

> "Oh, my bad."

> She plucks him by the collar of his his winter jacket, and then tosses him onto the proper bed.

"Is he still breathing?"

> At your behest, she feels his neck, and then trots towards you.

> Swaying her hips.

> "Don't worry about his breathing."

> She puts her hands on your shoulders.

> "Worry about yours."

> Once more your lips are locked with Carnations'.

> This time her lust has completely taken over.

> Her tongue is inside your mouth, gliding against your teeth.

> Again, the sweet taste of gingerbread fills your senses.

> You try to fight back against the impeding appendage with your own.

> Pressing and swirling.

> Only for her to have the upper hand.

> You surrender, letting the horse girl feel every inch of your mouth.

> Content, she pulls back, a stream of saliva briding both your lips.

> "Have you ever done that before?"

> You nod a "no" ever slightly.

> She licks her lips.

> Then she looks down.

> "Are you okay if we do that a lot?"

> Was she insecure about this?

> You kiss her nose.

"Its fine."

> She smooches your nose back, then leaves you for the elevator.

> "Come on! My uncle is waiting!"

> When you reach the police cruiser, still running, Carnation's in the back.

> Smiling like a devil.

> Once you sit down, the mare reaches over and puts your seatbelt on you.

> Then tightens it, almost confining you against the leather covers.

"Isn't this a little excessive...?"

> "What? Is it?"

> Again she has that worried look, that she's doing something wrong.

> She has a plan and you're interrupting it.

> You shake your head and smile.

"Thank you for keeping me safe."

> The horse lady squees, then secures her own seatbelt as she sits as far away from you as possible.

> In silence, uncle puts the car in drive, closes the viewport, and turns the music all the way up.

> You don't remember hearing anything about how far away the horse girl lived.

> Were you going to be in this position for a while?

> It was awkward, like now she was trying to be as uninterested in you as possible.

> Again, back to square one.

> You were about to stare at all the Christmas lights outside again when you hear a seatbelt click.

> Carnation's fingers undoing her belt.

> In a smooth motion, she pulls it out.

> Then, slowly, she undoes her zipper.

> And slides her shorts just low enough to reveal her horse clit.

> Holy shit.

"Where are your panties?" You whisper.

> Her uncle may be a cop but you dont have to be a lawyer to know he'd freak out if he saw this.

> "I never wore them." There's that crazed smile again.

> "And If I did, I would've thrown them away with my bells."

> Did both her eye and pussy just wink?

> The cabin was getting hotter and hotter.

> Pants were beyond uncomfortable right now.

> It didn't help Carnation had repositioned herself to face you.

> Legs up on the upholstery, butterfly style.

> The top of her pussy still in view.

> Whether he was in on it or not, Uncle had switched to generic piano music.

> You think it was Tchaikovsky but you didn't really care.

> What was important was that, to the rythm of the music, Carnation's clit pulsed in and out of her hood.

> A sliver of juices dribbling out each time, over the bronze of her zipper and gathering in a small puddle on the seat.

> No words left the mare's mouth.

> Only moans.

> An involuntary, almost feral demand for your love.

> You obliged.

> With your closest hand, you placed your palm against her clit.

> Causing her to moan loader.

> Moving your hand upwards, you catch her clit between your pointer and index fingers.

> With every wink her slick love coated your digits.

> The slicker, squisher fingers causing her to move quicker, drip more, pant louder.

> Her chest rising and falling faster and faster.

> A snowball effect towards orgasm, and you hadn't even done anything.

> Just barely moving your fingers up and down to add a little more friction causes Carnation to whine and pant.

> " Stop stop stop no no noo..."

> She pulls your hand off, but the friction of your fingers leaving her womanhood is too much.

> Instantly the mare bucks, her hooves missing your thigh and shoulder as her knees lock and her back presses against the farthest door.

> Like a squirt gun she orgasms, a stream sploshing against your pants...

> The armrest..

> And the window.

> All while Carnation is biting her own arm stifling a scream.

> On top of your thighs her legs shake for two minutes.

> While doing so, panting, she reaches beneath your seats.

> A convenient place for a towel to be located.

> "h-here..."

> She weakly offers it to you before pulling up her shorts.

> She doesnt bother to put her belt back on, and instead closes her eyes.

> Laying across you with her head against the car window.

> As you wipe the mare cum off the window, the viewport starts to open.

> You feel a needle in the back of your spine.

> You rush to wipe up as much of the wet stuff as possible from every surface.

> Everywhere but your pants is dry in the short amount of time it takes for the viewport to be open fully.

> Officer uncle glances at you only for a second before his focus reshifts to the road.

> "Everything fine back there?"

> He can definitely smell the pussy juice covering your clothes and his seats.

> There's no telling what will happen now.

> Like she wasn't even half-asleep, Carnation answers.

> "I kicked anon and he pissed himself."

> Jaw drop.

> Embarrassment and fear are tonight's mental main course.

> Disbelief as a side dish.

> Officer Uncle has a hearty laugh.

> "Boy, I hope you know what you signed up for. Because there's only gonna be more pain the longer you're with a horse woman."

> Carnation laughs with her uncle, and soon you're laughing too.

> The cruiser comes to a screeching halt and you're not laughing any more.

> Outside, what looks to be a refurbished Victorian house.

> Wraparound porch, big (snow covered) lawn, sharp iron fence, all sandwiched by two apartment buildings.

> Out of place, but the type of building you'd expect a semi-rich family to purchase for shits and giggles.

> The officer's husky voice pipes up.

> "Alright Con carne, this is where I let you off."

> "Thanks Uncle."

> The masked horse smiles.

> "No problem. Any time. Except for the piss part. Never again."

> Carnation swings her legs and gets out of the car as fast as possible.

> You, with the towel, wipe your pants some more but Officer uncle pipes up.

> "Its an accident. I get it. Just get the fuck out of my car."

> He didn't have to ask you twice.

> Once you're on the curb and the cruiser door is shut, Uncle Officer honks and drives off.

> Watching his rear lights disappear around the block, you don't notice your mare lover opening the fence gate.

> "Come on Anon! You got to see my house."

> Crunching snow underhoof, She trots to the porch, jumping onto a rocking chair beside the entrance.

> You take your time walking, enjoying the view of the house.

> It was painted white, with green shingles on its roof and green window frames and shutters.

> Candles could be seen in the windows, but no major lights inside were on.

> Someone, maybe Carnation's parents, had decided that this house was going to look permanently festive.

> A low screech of a breeze kicks up powder, and once again you see the mare shivering.

"Do you learn anything?" You joke.

> With a coy grin she shakes her head

> "nn-nno".

> She gets off her ass, unlocks the door, and then kicks it open to reveal the interior.

> Cold, and dark, but at least there's no snow.

> Ahead the horse gal walks, pressing a button that turns on the lights.

> The entrance leads to a foyer, smaller than the frat's, but fancier.

> Each wall lined with pictures, drawings, documents and nick-knacks chronicling a horse family's greatest moments and members.

> All leading to the door to the living room.

> Farthest from the door, a giant fireplace that seems to occupy the entire wall.

> To the left and right, more doors, and a couple of book collections behind glass panels.

> But what occupied your attention was the grand couch in the center of the living room.

> It was big.

> It was red.

> It was bulky.

> Perfect for seven-foot tall horse anthros like Carnation.

> Whose Khaki-covered ass was in full view, as she was bent over the fireplace.

> Stepping behind the mare, you took off your jacket and over shirt, stripping down to just pants and a T.

> A gas knob squeaked, and a zippo clicked, and the fire roared to life.

> Light and heat filled the living room.

> Carnation's towering figure rises, looking down as she faces you.

> "So, you think you can just come into my house, and take off your clothes like that?"

> Oh Shit.

> Did you do something rude?

> You could've waited for her to point out a coat hanger before you took off your clothes.

> The mare unbuttons her shorts once again.

> They drop to the ground without making a noise.

> The smell of her sex reaches your nostrils.

> "You think you can do what you want here?"

> Her black tongue licks around her lips.

> "Do what you want..."

> Her arms grip your shoulders.

> "with me?"

> Into those beautiful blue eyes you stare.

> There's excitement, and anxiety, contained within her pupils.

> Fear of rejection.

> Of overstepping a boundary, and once again being alone.

> Of asking too much, and being inconsiderate.

> Afraid that she handed you something you couldn't handle.

> Or so she thought.

> Well, there was only one way to sooth her conscience.

> You push her on her ass.

> "huh?" She says, now forced to look up at you.

> But you hush her, and take off your pants.

> In seconds your cock is up to her muzzle.

"I think you should use your mouth for something other than talking."

> With that, the mare takes your manhoold in the cold chitin of her hoof-tipped fingers.

> Pressing her nose against it, she takes a whiff.

> And then with her long tongue, lathers you in warm saliva.

> Gripping the top of her head as she does so, you see the winking of her marehood.

"Stop."

> Her lips were just kissing your tip as you spoke.

> "hmm?"

"Get on your back. Missionary."

> Where did this confidence come from?

> Without pausing, Carnation lies back, grabbing her knees to keep her legs in the air.

> You kneel, and guiding your member, rub it against her twitching clit.

> The mare moans as you feel her juices cover you.

> Rubbing the tip up and down her pussy, you start to speak.

"Carn..."

> But bite your tongue.

> You wanted to ask about condoms.

> Coming inside.

> Was she a virgin?

> How fast should you go?

> Should we go to the couch?

> Questions that a responsible person should ask.

> But there was no point.

> Okay, you would definitely ask about her virginity later.

> But she had set this all up.

> If it was in her plan she would've had condoms.

> Or said something before.

> She wanted this.

> So give it to her.

"I love you."

> With a carnal intensity never seen, your drove length inside of her.

> So fast, you felt her whole body spasm.

> The surrounding walls twitching and tweaking, trying to milk an orgasm from you before you had even started to really fuck her.

> Carnation's legs locked behind the small of your back whilst her arms grabbed you.

> Forcing your head into her sweater-covered bosom and your tip against what you think was her cervix.

> Almost immediately causing her to let out a whimper.

> A warm, sappy liquid begins to leak, almost sticking her tail hair to you.

> After a deep breath, you pull out, facing some hard resistance.

> Then you go back in.

> The mare whinnies.

> Again you pull out, this time a little faster.

> More of her sex leaks, like a glue connecting your thighs to her crotch fur.

> Again you go in, and again out, getting a steady rythm until its almost constant pounding.

> Carnation puts her hand over her mouth and muttters "oh god" but you keep going.

> Pressure is starting to build.

> Did she get tighter?

> The heat of the fireplace is nothing compared to the raging inferno of Carnation's marehood.

> You can't tell the difference from your sweat and her sex as pounding after pounding splashes her liquid all over you.

> Harder, faster, wetter.

> Carnation's grip around your back and neck tightens.

> Her forehead is against yours as she mutters absolute nonsense.

> "go go go Go Go Go Go GOGOGOGO GO GOOOOOOOO"

> Its becoming almost impossible to hold back your orgasm.

> Slowing down your pace to a teasing tug and shove, for one last time you pull out.

> And then dive back in as hard as possible.

> Coming just as you hit her cervix.

> Carnation's legs straighten out, once more her knees shaking as you feel squirt after squirt against your underside.

> The mare screams your name.

> "ANON!"

> And then her legs fall to the floor.

> Soon after, you collapse.

> Your ear against her soaked sweater covered breasts, you inhale Carnation's aroma.

> For five minutes you lay on top of her, panting,

> Warmed,not just by her, but also the fireplace.

> As your breaths rose and fell in tandem, your gaze wandered over to the room's walls.

> On them, rows and collumns of pictures.

> One line was birthdays.

> A timelines of a familiar Clydesdale's reactions to one cake after another until finally ending at 18.

> One line was summer days, again your love the focus.

> The horse lady, wearing various swim suits, eating all sorts of grilled carrots dogs and bean burgers, drying off by the pool or watching fireworks.

> The final row seems to be of the very room you're in.

> Only at the center, instead of a couch, a Christmas tree.

> Each picture after another showing more and more family surrounding the tree.

> From one picture where one child was in the arms of a parent the next they were standing beside them.

> Carnation being the exception.

> her standing between her parents at the center of the picture, no siblings to be seen.

> Only an ever growing extended family flanking her.

> Though you wonder where the Christmas tree is, this room seems to have been a very special place in Carnation's family.

> Perhaps in the next picture.

> Whether it's a summer or her birthday or Christmas.

> Perhaps you'll be in it.

> Smiling.

> Welcomed by the Clydesdale clan and included in all their gatherings.

> Maybe even your mom would enjoy her in laws enough to be included in a picture.

> But enough about her.

> Your heart burns for the mare below you.

> The love you feel for her.

> The possibility of being accepted by her family.

> and getting a chance to start a branch within it.

> All it makes you want to do is look into Carnations eyes.

> And you're greeted by her worry.

"What's wrong?"

> You ask.

> She stares past you, eyes half closed in apathy.

> "Nothing."

> Rolling you off her, the equine turns to face the fire.

> Orange embers reflect off the tears rolling down her face.

> She whimpers something.

"What?"

> She shakes her head and scoots further away from you.

> You rub the fur of her upper arm.

"Just tell me."

> Carnation is just barely understandable through her sniffling.

> "Im... a whore..."

> The horse lady's sobbing can't be held back.

> Rejecting any of your comfort the equine rises and runs out the room, casting off her sweater by the doorway.

> "Im a whore! I'm a whore! I'm a whore!"

> Afraid of what your eccentric loverly do in this state, you follow the mare.

> Around the corner, up the stairs, down the hallway and into what you think is her room.

> You stick your foot in the door just as she closes it.

"AAOW."

> You fall on your ass, seething in pain.

> Carnation stands in the doorway, caught off guard.

> She grabs her ears and screams

>" Im a whore and an abuser!"

> The equine lady bounds over you, A tasteful view of her ass the last thing on your mind.

> After some far off clip clopping, she returns with an icepack and some tape.

> "Im sorry... I'm sorry... abuser and a whore..."

> She whinnies sadly.

> After securing an icepack over the injury, Carnation Bridal carries you into the room.

> "Abuser and a whore."

> The inside of her room is very purple.

> Various shades of violet make up her walls, her curtains, the blankets on her bed and a lazy boy.

> Above the couch, shelves carry more pictures of Carnatioj, her family, friends, and even pets.

> You don't remember seeing any dog bowls around or hamster cages.

> The pet pictures shake as you land on the bed.

> Surrounding the very thick mattress are dolls.

> Soft, stuffed animals with proportions of babies.

> As childish as these are, you don't see this as out of character for the Mare.

> Across from you she takes a seat on the couch, curling up into a sobbing ball.

> "Abuse...Whore..."

> Once your pain numbs, you get off the bed and limp over to her.

"Hey."

> The equine's ears twitch but she doesn't raise her head.

"I Know you didn't mean to hurt me. Quit calling yourself an abuser. Or a whore."

> You grab her hand and squeeze.

> She sniffles and scoots over, allowing you to sit by the horse gal.

> "Bbut I am a whore."

> The horse slumps away from you, her tail flopping on your crotch by accident and giving you some electricity.

" How are you a whore?"

> "Because I wanted to start a family tonight, and when I didn't get what I wanted with one guy, I forced it on you."

> She speaks clearly until the end, choking back tears before continuing.

> "I didn't ask you, tell you. I just did it. Impulsively. Recklessly. And now you think I'd do it with anyone or I just wanted to trap you and then you'll leave and ill be a single mom and when my parents come back and see my fat and with no husband they're going to freak out and ill be -"

> You silence Carnations worries with a kiss, and a question.

"Why'd you pick me to start your family with?"

> Carnation gulps, caught off guard by your question.

> You repeat the question, and She sighs.

> "Well... you're kind. You listen. You take time to learn and even enjoy... differences that most humans dislike."

> She blushes and shuffled into a cross legged position.

> A smug grin appears beneath her red eyes, knowing she was flaunting her differences.

> " You're funny, you take care of you're friend and me, and youre... handsome."

> She kisses you when she pauses, causing you to smile.

> Seeing your happiness, she continues.

> But above all else, you accept me. Not just my body but my uh personality. And if I do something stupid you help me, and that makes me think that if I fucked up bad, you'll tell me and leave me."

> The tears begin to well again.

> "And I know I did something fucked up."

> She presses her long muzzle into her hand and starts to dry heaves.

> "And now I know you'll leave me."

> The horse slumps again into the chair arm.

> As you rub her back, you realize you're at a fork in the road.

> On one hand, your current situation maybe can't support a family.

> And maybe, to a third party viewing this situation, this Clydesdale isn't exactly mature enough for a family.

> But shes already shown more committment than any other woman you've met.

> And, if its clear by the emptiness of the house, shes not doing this out of bad intentions.

> This horse is lonely.

> She too wants to see that living room alive with the laughter of Children beneath a Christmas Tree.

> She just needs someone to keep her head on straight.

> You grab her soft hands and look into her eyes.

"Carnation, I won't leave you."

> With that you hug her close.

> After processing what you said, the horse girl snorts and squees and then grabs you in the tightest hug you've ever been in.

> "I love you I love you I love you."

> You decide to change the subject and divert the horses attention.

> "Besides, I only came in you once. The odds aren't that high I got you pregnant."

> Her grip loosens.

> "Oh?"

> Carnation reads you like a card.

> Picking you up again, she throws you into the California King.

> You wince slightly at your foot aching but you ignore the pain.

> "So, are you saying you want me to raise the odds?"

> The equine lady stands at the foot of the bed, hands on her hips, tail swishing from side to side.

> You give her a shit eating grin.

> "What do you think?"

> The mare frowns and let's her arms droop sadly.

> "I dont know! I'm afraid of -"

"Con carne."

> She shuts up.

> You came up with that nickname just now.

"Are you looking to hurt me more?"

> "no!"

"So get on top of me so my foot can heal."

> The horse girl grabs her heart.

> She looks halfway between crying and smiling.

> "I love youuuu."

> She clambers over you and you're blinded by her bare breasts.

> An hour passes.

> You've finally settled down.

> Carnation presses her head against your chest, muttering sweet nothings.

> "I think if we have a girl we should name her Holly."

> You chuckle.

" You're set on Christmas names, aren't you?"

> she huffs, cheeks going red through her fur.

"I just want to remember the occasion she was created in."

> you laugh.

" So what if someone notices? All these kids with holiday names, born 9 months later? "

> You feel her lips brush against your neck as she breathes in your scent.

> "Noone would notice unless momma tells them."

"you would?"

> "maybe." She stutters.

> You kiss her forehead.

" How about, if its a girl we name it after my mom, and if its a boy we name it after your dad?"

> "well what about your dad or my mom?"

> You squeeze her ass in your fingers.

> "That can be the next one."

> She smiles and chuckles.

> "But I really do like the name holly."

"Alright, how about Holly if its a girl, Christopher if its a boy."

> "Christopher?"

"If he inherits your beautiful blond hair, Christopher will fit him."

> Carnation blushes even more and brushes her hair aside.

> "D'awww well alright. Christopher or Holly it is."

> To mark the agreement she kisses your lips.

> A blizzard rages outside.

> You can hear the wind howling.

> the Icicles shaking against the windowsill.

> But you dont care.

> You're warm here.

> "I can't wait to turn this into the nursery. "

"Your room? But where will we sleep?"

> "Guest room, duh. This room already has everything for kids to live in it. The guest room is undecorated and can fit all of your stuff in once you move and still roomy enough for me.

> A smile creeps across your face.

> Shes been thinking about that for a while.

> Perhaps she's just spontaneous in the short term.

> But if she can think ahead smartly, she'll make a wonderful mother.

> You kiss The end of the horses muzzle.

"Then well enjoy this as a bedroom while it still is one. Goodnight my wife."

> "Goodnight, Hubby."

> And with that, you fall asleep.

> Wrapped in Carnation's arms.

> The End.

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