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It was official. Flora Peace hated Manehattan.
Manehattan’s buildings were terrifying. They were so tall, making the city seem more cramped than it already was. She couldn't tell the difference between the Chrysroan Building and the Equire State Building, her eyes hurt from Times Square, and ponies usually ignored her pleas for directions--those that didn't gave her instructions that were so complicated that she lost track of when to turn. She wondered how they placed a horse head on one building, and ended up imagining it falling off.

Had she not arrived a day early, her aunt and uncle would have been there to greet her and lead her to the college she was attending.
Still, the skyscrapers were not the only problem. There was not a block which was without its share of trash, and everypony she bumped into did not take kindly to an intrusion of their personal space. And what the hay was that smell? Was it the trash, or the ponies? Or was it something else that she didn’t want to know about?
She got lost a little too easily for her comfort, and she had to practically swim through crowds to get to her destination. She already nearly got killed by speeding carriages, bumped into some clearly stressed and uptight ponies, and her ears still rang from both the strangers' snapping and every noise that came from every nook and cranny.
By the time she got to the university, she was all kinds of tired. Her hooves hurt from walking for hours, she was sweaty, and her heart was pounding from several close calls. It wasn’t dark yet, but she just wanted to lay on her bed and sleep off this stress.
So she started to stroll to her dorm room, when unfortunate event number fifteen happened—the bottom of her saddlebag ripped open, and her things were spilled out on the sidewalk.
Her eye twitched as she stared at the spilled contents of her bag, and she sat on the sidewalk, and just screamed.
Once she finished, she looked at her bag, with the blasted tear marring it. Of all the times it had to rip, why now? Why while she was in an unfamiliar place far from home? She wanted to smack herself for leaving the familiar mountains and valley she called home. Why didn’t she just go to one of the colleges there?
“You need some help with those, Miss?”
She snapped her head around and looked up at the stallion who said that. He was a tall and skinny fellow, with a red-orange coat and dark hair. His green eyes were impassive, his eyebrow was raised, and his dress—brown suit jacket, green tie, and slicked back mane—indicated a serious, businesslike persona. But what got her attention the most was a large forelock curl that was just above his forehead. She tried to figure out why anypony would have such a disruption to their perfectly straight hair, but it was better left unsaid.
The stallion tapped his hoof and his brow furrowed. “Do me a favor and stop staring at my forelock.”
Shoot, he read her mind. She flushed in embarrassment, and quickly stood up. “Sorry, about that! I just—“ She cleared her throat. “…yes, I need help. Thanks for the offer, Mr….”
“Sandwich,” the stallion said, picking up some books with his tail. “Tomato Sandwich.”
Flora blinked. “Oh, um, it’s very nice to meet you, Tomato.” She picked up some of her own books. “My name’s Flora Peace.”
Tomato glanced at her, and mumbled, “Lovely… I met a hippie…”
“Hm, nah, I don’t consider myself a hippie. I’m cool with the peace and nature parts, but I’m more conservative with the, uh… ‘free love’ parts.”
“Good to know. Okay, where were you going?”
“Dorms.”
“Makes sense. Come on, they’re this way.”
With everything all picked up, the two of them walked across campus to the dorms. Things were awkwardly silent between them, so Flora tried to initiate conversation. Unfortunately, Tomato barely acknowledged her the entire way, and it seemed like he was not willing to make friends with her.
Once they reached the dorms, Tomato was finished carrying Flora’s books, so he mumbled a goodbye and left, with both thinking that they wouldn’t meet again.
What a surprise it was when they met again in math class, ending up sitting next to each other. She needed a tutor, and he might as well oblige.

I shared this story on the blog a long time ago, and I realized that it was a disservice to not share the story of how Tomato and Flora first met, plus a bonus picture of the very moment they laid eyes on each other. As you have read, it wasn't love at first sight.

MLP (c) Hasbro
These two are mine.

Description

It was official. Flora Peace hated Manehattan.
Manehattan’s buildings were terrifying. They were so tall, making the city seem more cramped than it already was. She couldn't tell the difference between the Chrysroan Building and the Equire State Building, her eyes hurt from Times Square, and ponies usually ignored her pleas for directions--those that didn't gave her instructions that were so complicated that she lost track of when to turn. She wondered how they placed a horse head on one building, and ended up imagining it falling off.

Had she not arrived a day early, her aunt and uncle would have been there to greet her and lead her to the college she was attending.
Still, the skyscrapers were not the only problem. There was not a block which was without its share of trash, and everypony she bumped into did not take kindly to an intrusion of their personal space. And what the hay was that smell? Was it the trash, or the ponies? Or was it something else that she didn’t want to know about?
She got lost a little too easily for her comfort, and she had to practically swim through crowds to get to her destination. She already nearly got killed by speeding carriages, bumped into some clearly stressed and uptight ponies, and her ears still rang from both the strangers' snapping and every noise that came from every nook and cranny.
By the time she got to the university, she was all kinds of tired. Her hooves hurt from walking for hours, she was sweaty, and her heart was pounding from several close calls. It wasn’t dark yet, but she just wanted to lay on her bed and sleep off this stress.
So she started to stroll to her dorm room, when unfortunate event number fifteen happened—the bottom of her saddlebag ripped open, and her things were spilled out on the sidewalk.
Her eye twitched as she stared at the spilled contents of her bag, and she sat on the sidewalk, and just screamed.
Once she finished, she looked at her bag, with the blasted tear marring it. Of all the times it had to rip, why now? Why while she was in an unfamiliar place far from home? She wanted to smack herself for leaving the familiar mountains and valley she called home. Why didn’t she just go to one of the colleges there?
“You need some help with those, Miss?”
She snapped her head around and looked up at the stallion who said that. He was a tall and skinny fellow, with a red-orange coat and dark hair. His green eyes were impassive, his eyebrow was raised, and his dress—brown suit jacket, green tie, and slicked back mane—indicated a serious, businesslike persona. But what got her attention the most was a large forelock curl that was just above his forehead. She tried to figure out why anypony would have such a disruption to their perfectly straight hair, but it was better left unsaid.
The stallion tapped his hoof and his brow furrowed. “Do me a favor and stop staring at my forelock.”
Shoot, he read her mind. She flushed in embarrassment, and quickly stood up. “Sorry, about that! I just—“ She cleared her throat. “…yes, I need help. Thanks for the offer, Mr….”
“Sandwich,” the stallion said, picking up some books with his tail. “Tomato Sandwich.”
Flora blinked. “Oh, um, it’s very nice to meet you, Tomato.” She picked up some of her own books. “My name’s Flora Peace.”
Tomato glanced at her, and mumbled, “Lovely… I met a hippie…”
“Hm, nah, I don’t consider myself a hippie. I’m cool with the peace and nature parts, but I’m more conservative with the, uh… ‘free love’ parts.”
“Good to know. Okay, where were you going?”
“Dorms.”
“Makes sense. Come on, they’re this way.”
With everything all picked up, the two of them walked across campus to the dorms. Things were awkwardly silent between them, so Flora tried to initiate conversation. Unfortunately, Tomato barely acknowledged her the entire way, and it seemed like he was not willing to make friends with her.
Once they reached the dorms, Tomato was finished carrying Flora’s books, so he mumbled a goodbye and left, with both thinking that they wouldn’t meet again.
What a surprise it was when they met again in math class, ending up sitting next to each other. She needed a tutor, and he might as well oblige.

I shared this story on the blog a long time ago, and I realized that it was a disservice to not share the story of how Tomato and Flora first met, plus a bonus picture of the very moment they laid eyes on each other. As you have read, it wasn't love at first sight.

MLP (c) Hasbro
These two are mine.