Chapter Text
Death is nothing but a complete and utter joke. A mockery to his soul, and a cruel one at that.
What Blueberry Milk felt as the most dreadful headache to envelop his head, accompanied by a fleeting temperature that was made of his body, only growing colder and colder.
His eyes were moving — it was without a doubt that somehow he was awake. But, there was nothing to be seen of him, an endless pool of trance of limbo. Not quite there physically, but still left to rot in consciousness. Not even that witch forsaken silver tree could’ve been as insufferable as this.
Is this the end of it?
Reduced to nothing but a sip of obsolescence, made to become a loop of nothingness?
Crumbling couldn’t have been so simple. To cease to exist with such haste, a porcelain doll shattering with ease.
To think the last thing Blueberry Milk could set his eyes upon once more before death would intertwine its hands within him was the sight of Pure Vanilla’s soft, teary face adorned with misery. It was a shame, to say the least. If he could see himself right now, Blueberry Milk can only imagine the disgust that would twist over his face once he realized his final words to be spoken were voicing his final call of love for the other.
It couldn’t be helped, though.
What a pitiful way to go; and that’s all his crumbled body would be remembered for. A shame of a soul who would never be brought righteousness. But was that a gift he deserved to begin with?
Blueberry Milk blinked, or at least could feel himself do so, yet nothing appeared before him.
No longer seeping into the comfort of Pure Vanilla’s arms, presence absent of that hell of a solarium he wished he never stepped foot into. One part of Blueberry Milk longed to be blessed with the ability to somehow look upon what was happening, to be able to see into the world once more.
But, perhaps not, as he would only suffer more having to witness the ancient’s mourning.
That would be a fate worse than this.
It wasn’t hard to realize Blueberry Milk only wished the best for someone like Pure Vanilla. That growing resentment that was once buried within the depths of his dough, the desire to see that ancient nothing less than a pile of crumbs — it had eventually turnt to neutrality. And as the days went on, a fondness.
But, what truly was it that he had felt?
It was easy for one to understand the two of them held what you could call a friendship, a simple label of a mending relationship. Or, at least the bloom of one. The beginning of something so deep, only for its life to be stomped away with a fate they could not avoid.
Blueberry Milk felt more than just a mere bond. At times, it was as if he was simply losing his mind into delusions, or taking things to a conclusion that would be impossible. Bounded to the weight of an emotion he knew that he couldn’t ignore forever, until the day his body crumbled.
Love.
It was a pain, truly.
Or, even a slit of limerence if he knew better. A desire that would continue to bare its teeth. Every embrace, every exchange of their gazes, every small moment or touch, would only send Blueberry Milk further into a rabbit hole he could not climb from.
How he had handled it, given the conclusion that he was in fact, infatuated with the other was not handled well, to say the least. Any attempt made of avoidance, or passive aggressiveness, was futile. Blueberry Milk knew all too well that it would only result in the ancients insufferable persistence to be closer to the other.
It only sparked another spiral of questions through Blueberry Milk. If the feeling was mutual, he wouldn’t even be alive to find out. Unanswered words, abandoned to rot for good.
It’s a shame, really.
Yet, he still had one last wish that lingered; to relive the moment. Even if Blueberry Milk was bound to a loop of memories, at least it would serve as a comfort. An empty embrace to leave him to suffer within. In the end, as his vision seeped into darkness, Blueberry Milk did not want to cry.
But he was petrified.
Too bad the beast wouldn’t be able to voice so, anyways, given the pangs of excruciating pain that would course through his dough whenever he moved his lips. It doesn’t take long to see the toll your own soul shattering would put into one’s body.
He could only take so much before eventually losing himself.
Ugh.
He’d rather take the silver tree’s imprisonment than something as dull as this. Nothing but a dreary void, adorned with obsolescence.
It was irritating — the only desire that lingered in his mind was to just feel it one last time. Even a droplet of the compassion resonating with the ancient that he would never feel once more.
But, who was he to be blamed?
Every dollop of the memories that would play over and over again would only accentuate this beast’s misery.
The air hung with an aroma of vanilla that made the nausea churning within his stomach twist with a repulse. If this was yet another fit of reliving, Blueberry Milk wouldn’t have wasted time to draw a blade to his own throat if he had to.
‘Ugh.’
‘Not this again.’ Would be his first thought as his eyes opened, lids hanging low with exhaust.
Blueberry Milk’s gaze lingered lazily along what seemed to be the looming interior of his own bedroom, the chambers ever adorned with a darkness as a corollary to the sunlight blocked by heaps of dark. curtains.
And it's cold.
Overwhelmingly frigid, as if this labyrinth of memories has grown tired of its repetition. It’s hilarious, considering Blueberry Milk was mutually sick of it.
When would this end? Or has the spear that so lovingly made its way through his soul jam acted as some conductor of this never ending misery?
Bringing the blanket to his shoulders, Blueberry Milk continued scanning the dark bedroom, body heavy with a sense of despair that would refuse to leave. This moment of feeling remained until the door opened with a sounded click, the beast’s eyes snapping to the source of the noise.
He frowned.
Of course.
A glimpse of what seemed to be Pure Vanilla’s milky eyes could be seen until the door was pushed to a halt, his form now visible. And as ever, the ancient was dressed with a sickening smile, set with genuine serenity.
That soft, breathy voice only set another record of dread through Blueberry Milk.
“Oh, Blue?”
Without a moment of hesitation, Pure Vanilla made his way towards the edge of the small bed, his staff beaming with a painful glare that softly glowed throughout the room. A warm contrast to its darkness. Blueberry Milk only blinked as he met eyes with the ancient, and he held an absence of his response that did not diminish the other’s oh so gleaming smile.
“You were out for so long,” Pure Vanilla remarked, fingers trailing along the fleece blanket. “I had grown worried, but—“ his face only inched closer to the beast’s.
He titled his head, that irritating, welcoming smile only deepening. “Are you feeling alright?”
For a moment, Blueberry Milk’s eyes narrowed with an indecision that only made him more frustrated. He was aware this was just another memory repeating, but Pure Vanilla wasn’t.
This was not truly him.
The last thing Blueberry Milk wanted was to engage in it. So, with a turn of his head, he’d make a fail of a nod, eyes leaving the gentle gaze of the ancient.
Pure Vanilla hummed, his face laced with perplexity. “Blueberry Milk? Is something wrong?”
Of course it is.
Still no response. Devoid of his words from the start, Blueberry Milk’s body only shuddered when he could feel a warm hand being positioned upon his shoulder. Pure Vanilla, feeling the beast stiffen under his hands, was only left in another daze of confusion.
So oblivious that it nearly left Blueberry Milk with a faint suspicion. Of course, this was merely his mind toying with him. But it just felt wrong. Still, he did not say much, only a slight tilt of his head towards the other, his eye contact wavering.
“No.”
A heavy silence. Save for the faint clicks of the clock that positioned onto the wall, a subtle ambience within his chambers, it was once more interrupted by the ancient’s drawn out sigh.
“Well,” Pure Vanilla clasped a bandaged hand against the other, his fingers intertwining. “While you were resting, I thought I might’ve baked something. Care to check the oven for me?”
Blueberry Milk kept his gaze fixed onto the wall. “Do it yourself.”
He didn’t really want to be so condescending. The passive aggressiveness, glaring eyes, this was all something meant to be left behind with his past self. A behavior reminiscent of the person that Blueberry Milk wanted to leave behind. But it was as if the memories playing over and over again within his head had sparked a defensiveness the beast could not quite understand himself.
Just what for had he been truly acting this way?
It wasn’t real, after all.
Perhaps, he was afraid. To have to put up with this was enough, but it would only hurt more to interact with nothing but a mere ghost of his friend.
A subtle frown creeped up on Pure Vanilla’s lips, faltering his smile, but the expression remained still. “Are you sure there is nothing on your mind?”
Blueberry Milk’s eyes only narrowed further, the temptation of a scowl lingering on his face.
But he only shook his head, leaving little room for argument. With that, Pure Vanilla chose not to press further — surprisingly enough — exiting the bedroom with a slow pace. It wasn’t long before noises came from downstairs, a pot meeting the counter with a sounded clank.
And for a moment, Blueberry Milk’s mind would drift off. Maybe, just maybe if he played into it, this memory would come to an end.
There’s a soft creak that breaks from the floorboards when his feet meet the ground, Blueberry Milk’s hand positioned against the nightstand as he regains his balance. His body had grown weak overtime, wreaking with a tire that only reflected his mental state.
Blueberry Milk was sick of this, so he might as well feed into this goddamn hell of a nightmare.
The hall that stretched from the entrance of his bedroom loomed with an emptiness, a lack of true peace that was of their home. Every step the beast would take sent a faint echo throughout the heavy air, his ankles aching as it begged for rest.
But, he did not stop walking. Approaching further to the start of the staircase, Blueberry Milk’s gaze fixed onto the warm light spilling from the kitchen area.
Pure Vanilla’s idle hums could be heard within, that familiar melody he would always repeat whenever occupied only sending a swerve of unnerve through Blueberry Milk. Even as he inched closer to the kitchen’s entrance, the other had not noticed him, half lidded eyes focused on the large mittens being slid over his hands.
“Nill,” Blueberry Milk rasped, arms folded against his body. The ancient perked up, his dazed expression twitching to a faint smile when their eyes had met.
It was unsettling in a way, the way Pure Vanilla’s gaze fixed with pace, his voice reminiscent of a robot. A ghost programmed to terrorize Blueberry Milk within the memory.
“Ah. You’re up.” The ancients voice was dragged out in a manner, soft breaths that hitched in his throat. He motioned towards a nearly complete, small tart that laid upon the counter, the oven mitten slightly shifting on his hand.
Pure Vanilla nudged a strand of hair from his face. “Help yourself to some. The recipe was a little much, but I think it turned out well!” A stretched smile.
The air lacked that familiar warmth. Devoid of the comforting smell whenever the ancient baked, empty of true reality. Nothing but a mere dream.
This was only made to be clear when Blueberry Milk brought a forkful of the pastry to his mouth, its flavor absent. The love always baked into it was not present, and so was its authenticity. The more the food coasted his tongue, the further it felt as if it was nothing but pure concrete enveloping his mouth.
The slice was cold as it sat on his plate, the gaze from Pure Vanilla burning into his back as his chewing went on for a moment.
He did not want to look at the other. So with that, Blueberry Milk would continue to take bites from the treat devoid of any taste, not even so much as stealing a glance towards the ancient.
But of course, the demoralizing silence had to be broken once more.
“How is it?” Pure Vanilla enquired, drawing nearer towards the beast, blissfully unaware of the other’s clear discomfort.
Not even bothering to force a smile, Blueberry Milk only nodded. “Fine.”
That stiffness that held Blueberry Milk’s body in defensive stern softened upon the fleeting sensation of the other’s hand brushing against his face, and yet the scowl that the beast displayed only deepened.
Pure Vanilla brushed a crumb from the other’s face, his hand enveloped in a coldness that felt off.
“There’s something on your face,” Pure Vanilla mumbled, paying no mind to the glaring eyes that basked within Blueberry Milk’s hair. His head tilted, concentrated and tired eyes as he continued wiping, finally drawing back his hands.
“You seem a bit exhausted as of now. Have you been getting proper sleep?” Pure Vanilla continued, turning to gather the now cleared plates, save for the smudges of jam and pastry crumbs. “I’ve actually planned something a little different for today, but we could call it off if you are feeling unwell.”
So, he really was aware of Blueberry Milk’s state.
Interesting.
Still avoiding eye contact with the ancient, Blueberry Milk trailed a hand over his loosening braid. “What is it?”
Pure Vanilla smiled. “Well, I had taken a trip to the market area, and..” he turned, shifting out of the kitchen before almost immediately returning with what seemed of a music box. A CD player, to be specific, the wooden case lightly dusted with lint.
Blueberry Milk perked up, his eyes flashing with discern. He could recall what memory was playing out by this point, and it was the last one he wished to remember, simply because of the intimacy it had held.
It would only bring more pain, wouldn’t it?
“Where— how did you get that?” Blueberry Milk rasped. Pure Vanilla perked a brow, slightly perplexed.
“The market,” He repeated.
Pure Vanilla’s ignorance of the others' uneasiness only made Blueberry Milk’s frustration grow. Out of all memories, why this? Why would his own mind do this to him? If death could have finished him off for good right then and there, he would’ve begged for it.
He said nothing more, enticing Pure Vanilla to continue.
The ancient bit his lip as he studied the CD player. “I was hoping I could get it to work, but I am not quite familiar with this asset. The seller handed me this, and said to simply insert it.” His fingers trailed along the box as he ejected a flashy, silver disk from it.
Pure Vanilla slowly raised the container above his head, observing it. “But— I don’t know how to turn it on.”
Is he stupid?
An arrogant huff left Blueberry Milk, already having had enough of it. Not only was this mental torture, but Pure Vanilla was driving him even madder.
“Give me that.” Blueberry Milk snatched the CD player from the ancient, who stared back at him with dazed eyes. “Just press the button, and—“
Suddenly, a loud, soft melody filled the air. Pure Vanilla’s face retorted from a fleet of confusion to elation as a song broke out from the scratching disk, his hands clasping with joy. Blueberry Milk could only gaze back in disbelief, the familiar tune sending a wave of dread through his heart.
He could recall the festivity of the ancient’s face when they had remained together when the song played over and over, embracing one another in a fit of small dances.
This was cruel.
Pure Vanilla grinned, taking a hold of Blueberry Milk’s hand as he led the other out of the kitchen and closer to the front of the home, setting down the music box onto the table. Genuinely elated, Pure Vanilla tapped a finger against the table along with the melody, soft hums reverberating through his throat.
His eyes closed, Pure Vanilla leaned against the table. “This is lovely. I was never much of a music fan, but I’m glad I stumbled upon this, don’t you think?”
No response.
The ancient opened his eyes, only to see that Blueberry Milk had kept a distance between the two. The beast’s gaze was fixed to the ground, even the eyes that adorned his hair avoiding meeting Pure Vanilla.
Pure Vanilla blinked. “Blue?”
Blueberry Milk forced an attempt of a smile, his fingers digging into the sides of his arms. “Yes. It’s nice, Nill.” But his face said otherwise. “You go ahead and enjoy that. I’m going to excuse myself.”
His head turned to the staircase, only to feel a hand wrapping around his arm. Blueberry Milk’s face twisted into that of disturb as his head lolled, eyes meeting with the ancients.
“Don’t go.” Pure Vanilla frowned. “I know you’re not in the best mood, Blue. Is there anything I could do to help?”
There isn’t. You’re not even a real person.
Suddenly, Pure Vanilla perked up, his face beaming. “I know!” Before Blueberry Milk could process it, eager hands only dragged him closer to the ancient, his face flushing with a flurry of warmth.
“Nill—“
“Care for a dance?” Pure Vanilla grinned.
Of course.
The memory would find one way or another to play out, much to Blueberry Milk’s dismay. He could only muster a nod, a fragment of nervousness lingering within him as he inched closer to Pure Vanilla. The other smelt faintly of cinnamon, likely from his baking, and that familiar linger of sweet vanilla.
“Do you wish to lead?” Pure Vanilla questioned, his voice brought to a hush. The music box’s gentle melody only continued on an insufferable loop that seemed to only irritate Blueberry Milk.
But he didn’t show it. Instead, he forced yet another smile.
“Okay.”
Blueberry Milk hadn't known quite where to rest his hands upon, deciding on positioning them atop the ancient’s shoulders. But, indecisive as ever, he moved his left hand downwards, fingers intertwining with the others.
And oh, how Pure Vanilla’s hands were as soft as ever. Cold, perhaps. But the ancient had always been an enjoyment to embrace. To admit such a thing to be true, though, would never come from Blueberry Milk’s mouth.
“Go on.” Pure Vanilla’s voice was laced with an overwhelming allure, gentle as ever.
“You know. For someone who’s not much of a dancer, you’re demanding,” Blueberry Milk remarked, slowly turning as Pure Vanilla’s body swerved.
A gentle twirl, sending a small chuckle from Pure Vanilla. “My apologies. I suppose I'm rather eager,” He added, his lips curled into a smile.
The two remained in a dance of a waltz for what felt like forever. Time did not seem as if it had dragged by once they became lost within one another’s embrace, Pure Vanilla’s eyes half lidded with bliss as the two’s gazes eventually met.
Blueberry Milk could feel the hum of his heart fluttering, lingering a melancholy. Such a fond moment, no room made for proximity, and yet he could feel nothing but sadness. His body shuddered as the sensation of hands enveloping his waist grew, the beast’s gaze averting downwards.
Pure Vanilla’s fingers trailed down lower and lower, till it reached a halt, their bodies continuing to move with a steady stream of sync. Just like that, Blueberry Milk’s hands also began to wander, and there they rested onto the other’s shoulders.
As they continued along the home with their waltz, Blueberry Milk could feel his eye contact wavering.
“Pure Vanilla.” His voice was brought to a whisper, wishing to savor the moment, despite the pain of it. “Could I ask you something?”
The ancient hummed, nodding with a small smile. His eyes were still shut, allowing Blueberry Milk to twirl him around. “Talk to me.”
So gentle, so accepting. Blueberry Milk only despised it. Biting his lips, the beast lowered his head as their bodies continued swerving. “Does.. something not feel off to you?”
Pure Vanilla shook his head.
“No. Tonight is very lovely, if I do say so myself.” He opened his eyes momentarily to glance up at Blueberry Milk before once more shutting them. “Why?”
A soft sigh. Blueberry Milk paused the nibbling of his lips, a slight turn of his gaze. “…I just.”
“I’ll miss this. A lot.”
Pure Vanilla’s brow perked, a teasing smile pulling at the ancients face. “We could dance as much as you wish, Blueberry Milk. I never said this would be the least, now have I?” A gentle poke at the beast’s face.
It was meant to be lighthearted, a gentle jab. But it only felt worse to Blueberry Milk. Without a word, he leaned forward, their slow dancing coming to an end as his arms wrapped around Pure Vanilla. Absence in the gap of time, the other returned the embrace.
Pure Vanilla chuckled. “My. Ever since you have awoken, you’ve been behaving so strange, Blue,” Pure Vanilla remarked, his hand lazily running through the beast’s hair. Blueberry Milk’s braid began to unravel with a gentle swirl, locks of blue tresses enveloping his body.
He tightened the hug, constricting the ancient with an ease.
“I will ask you once more,” Pure Vanilla continued. “Is there something on your mind?”
Nothing else could be heard except the melody that hung in the air. Slowly, but steadily, Pure Vanilla’s head hovered further over Blueberry Milk’s shoulder as he ran a finger over the music box, till it was shut off with a sounded click.
It was quiet.
Till gentle sniffles began to come from Blueberry Milk.
“Oh, Blue.” Pure Vanilla mustered up a smile, resuming with caressing the other’s hair. This vulnerability had once been rare, but it's grown prevalent as time has passed.
“It’s alright, my friend. You can talk to me about it another time.” His voice was so serene, heavy with nurture that it only brought tears to the beast’s eyes.
Blueberry Milk was truly going to mourn this moment, wasn’t he? It was funny, crying into the arms of a mere ghost. A brisk memory that only had replicated his friend.
So, why does it feel so real? Why does every tear drop that lands onto the other dough seep with such precision, as if he was meant to be there just for him?
Pure Vanilla was not truly present. And at this point, Blueberry Milk could not care anymore. It was enough for him.
Alas, the tears were short lived, Blueberry Milk drawing from the hug that sent a warmth through one another’s body that he had been searching for since waking up within this nightmare. The distance was made, and just like before he was cold once more, his soul aching for the other to hold it as always.
Another flutter of his heart. Blueberry Milk met eyes with Pure Vanilla, their gazes still for what felt like forever.
Please.
His face inched closer towards the ancient, Pure Vanilla’s smile only deepening. He did not bother to move away, or even blink. In fact, the gesture was returned, leaning in further with ease.
One last time.
If Blueberry Milk would never see his dearest friend ever again, If death has completed its journey to him, he might as well take advantage of it before time is up.
Oh.
It’s so soft.
Pure Vanilla had a tinge of sweetness, their lips interlocked like puzzle pieces that had longed to search for one another for a long, long time.
Blueberry Milk knew this was not a part of the memory, but with how he had yearned for the other, days and days of wishing for this moment, it was as if he had shattered the dream with his own decision.
And he did not waste any time. The kiss only deepened, quietness hanging over the air of the home that would be broken occasionally by the sound of their devotion. Every soft touch, every slow brush of Pure Vanilla’s fingers that teased the other’s heart only sent Blueberry Milk into a sensation that could be reminiscent of floating.
If hours had dragged by, Blueberry Milk would not be aware, and neither would Pure Vanilla. Not until the kiss had finally been broken — slowly but intently — shut eyes eventually opening once more.
A laugh. Soft, syrupy.
Pure Vanilla was laughing. He brought a hand to his flushed face, muffling his fit of emotion with little effort.
Blueberry Milk did not reciprocate the laughter, but an unyielding smile did break past the depression that hung upon him.
Eventually the fit of giggles from Pure Vanilla came to an end, accompanied by a blissful sigh that escaped his throat.
“I will admit, I was not expecting that.” He smiled.
“I could say the same,” Blueberry Milk conceded, attempting to mask the fact that he too, was embarrassed.
Far from thinking straight, overcome by the sheer volume of desire that had grown tired of waiting.
A silence dragged on as they remained by one another, their fingers intertwined with a soft passion. Unexpectedly, Pure Vanilla once more leaned in.
His eyes fluttered to a shut. “I don’t see why another would hurt, hm?” Their noses grazed one another, foreheads pressed.
Blueberry Milk nodded, his movements hesitant. And again had he found his lips pressed against the ancient’s, their embrace this time laced with less haste.
More slow and gentle. Attentive, even.
Pure Vanilla’s hands traced along Blueberry Milk’s shoulders until they came to a rest along the beast’s waist, gentle caresses of his fingers as their kiss deepened into its adoration. The beast’s heart continued to patter with an intensity that had fluttered against his chest, his body a consoling warmth.
Blueberry Milk hummed, his arms raising as he cupped the ancients face within his hands. He broke the embrace, continuing with soft pecks that so lovingly rubbed against Pure Vanilla’s cheek. The other tilted his head to the side as he was smothered in gentle kisses, the amity that washed over him euphoric.
And Blueberry Milk did not stop. He never wished to. Lips trailed from Pure Vanilla’s face to the ancient’s neck, doting the other with such cherish that he knew would be gone eventually.
A soft giggle escaped Pure Vanilla once more, his arms shifting as they wrapped around Blueberry Milk’s neck. “Your eagerness only makes me happier, Blue.”
The beast smiled. “Don’t blame me,” Blueberry Milk mumbled, voice muffled as his pecks resumed. He had drawn back his face to take in the sight of Pure Vanilla’s dazed eyes, fixed onto the ceiling.
“Earthbread to Nill. You look completely out of it.”
“Alright, alright.” Pure Vanilla smiled, planting a kiss on Blueberry Milk’s face. “As I said, I was not expecting this.”
Blueberry Milk titled his head, hands still cupping the other. “I don't know why I did that.” His gaze faltered. “..But I know I needed to.”
“Hm?” Pure Vanilla seemed perplexed.
“…Forget it.” Blueberry Milk pulled the other into another hug, this time with no intention of letting go. He wanted to remain this way forever, even if the memory had soon to come to an end.
He wanted to make the most of his time. And it was apparent it was approaching, the house slowly enveloping into a darkness that Pure Vanilla could not see. In fact, he only continued gazing into the other’s eyes, filled with unaware bliss.
“Blue.”
Blueberry Milk hummed. “Yes, Nill.”
The air was growing colder. His arms tightened around Pure Vanilla, paying no mind to the trembling of his body. It was ending, wasn’t it?
“I’ve had feelings I, too, have kept locked up,” Pure Vanilla admitted. His eyes fixed to the ground, his smile unfaltering. “I hope this does not affect our relationship.”
Blueberry Milk nodded into the ancient’s shoulder. “I know. You don’t have to worry about that, Pure Vanilla.” Hot tears threatened to blur the beast’s vision as his voice had grown shaky.
“As..long as we are together.”
The embrace began to sprout a warmth as Pure Vanilla’s soul jam pressed into Blueberry Milk’s chest. He wished to climb into Pure Vanilla and never leave. He wanted to melt, become one with the other until they were nothing but a spirit of each other's adoration.
They began to sway their bodies once more, the hug deepening to a tightness that felt constricting. And still, neither of the two wished to let go. No matter how suffocating, even if breaths could not be made.
As long as they had each other.
Two sides of a coin, as ever.
Even as the darkness was falling upon the two of them, Blueberry Milk kept his gaze fixed onto the ground. He could see the swerves of tendrils approaching them, the memory ceasing to exist. Death was calling for him, wasn’t it?
He shut his eyes.
“Hey.” Blueberry Milk mumbled. “Would you look at me crazy, if I said farewell?”
No response. Even with the sensation of his arms absent with the ancient presence, he did not open his eyes. Blueberry Milk only continued to speak to himself, a brisk of freezing breeze wrapping around the beast’s body. Unnerving, yet so inviting.
As if was ready to accept his time was up.
“Don’t forget me. Please.” Warm, soft tears trailed down his face with an ease as trembling hands were brought to wipe them away.
And just like that, the world had gone pitch black. Just as fast as his other half had faded in his arms, the beast was alone once more.
At least, somewhere out there, his crumbling body was not isolated.
He never wanted to die alone, anyways.