Chapter Text
Shadow Milk groaned, his head pounding. He sluggishly opened his eyes and looked around to see Pure Vanilla big spooning him. He turned to see his arm wrapped in a cast with ice pressed against it, cooling the stinging feeling that lingered in his hand and arm. He groaned again, slowly wriggling out of Pure Vanillas grip.
He removed the ice and stalked over to the large mirror in the room. All of his true form features lingered, and he growled slightly, staring at his now short hair. He wished he had killed Dark Enchantress. The bloody witch deserved every bite she got.
He looked down at his injured arm. Slowly, he removed the cast, flinching whenever he accidentally brushed the sensitive skin. He stared down at the slightly mangled dough, now ugly with scar tissue. He looked back up into the mirror before stripping fully.
He stared at his naked form, his eyes raking over every imperfection and problem. Bruised legs and arms, a black eye, scrapes on his knees and cheek. Slightly lighter scars covering his forearms and ankles shaped like lightning. His face was pale, cheek bones more prominent, dark circles scarily obvious. His ribs were visible, an ugly bruise still visible over the spot where his rib had been fractured.
He could still feel the pain. All of it. The shocks, the punches, the kicks, the cuts, the hair pulling. He stood there, staring at his imperfect body. He observed his pale skin peppered with darker blues and purple. He scanned his drooping wings and limp tail. He watched as hatred bubbled in his eyes.
When he came across Dark Enchantress Cookie again, one of them would die, and it would be her. He would make sure of it.
Shadow Milk turned away from the mirror, grabbing his clothes and dressing once again before redoing the cast on his arm. He looked back at the sleeping form in the bed. The vanilla cookie looked peaceful.
Just as he was about to head back to bed, a small coughing fit made its way out of his throat. He grimaced, shivering slightly. He hoped he wasn’t sick, and if he was, he would be the world’s most unlucky cookie there was on Earthbread.
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He was the world’s most unlucky cookie. There he lay in bed, shivering with a fever, being taken care of by Pure Vanilla. He groaned in frustration before suddenly grabbing Pure Vanilla and cuddling into the soft silk.
The healer blinked, allowing himself to be pulled back into bed. He just chuckled, brushing his fingers through Shadow Milks hair as the smaller cookie curled up into a ball. The two sat like that for a bit before Shadow Milks started rambling.
“Hnnnggg… Nilly… I hate myself. Did you know that…?” Shadow Milk slurred out, looking up at his partner. The king looked shocked at the sudden confession. “I really hate my body… all fat and ugly… covered in scars and bruises… I hate it.” He stated, blinking lazily.
“Do you ever feel like that? No that’s a stupid question of course you don’t you’re Pure Vanilla Cookie… the best… and cutest and… and most awesome… and beautiful… cookie… mmm I’m sleepy…” He slowly cut off before his head fell into Pure Vanillas lap fully, letting out soft snores.
Pure Vanillas shock slowly faded into quiet fondness, positioning the sleeping cookie so he could be more comfortable. He wrapped his arms around the pale and small frame, big spooning the jester. He watched as a bit of drool slipped out of Shadow Milks mouth, slowly moving down his chin. Pure Vanilla grinned with fondness. The two would have a talk about Shadow Milks words, but for now, he would let the sick cookie rest.
It was about time that he had a break.