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The stage is almost silent. The velvet curtains are drawn open and a phonograph sits on its little wooden table, kept to the side, as smooth waltz plays from it, piano keys twinkling coupled with woodwind instruments, so the sweet ballerino could have his solo rehearsal.
Whipped Cream Cookie dances across the stage, graceful on the tip of his toes. While the rehearsal for the latest performance has long since ended, he finds himself reluctant and his pursuit for perfection in the routine demands attention.
He lands en pointe and does one last pirouette, ending the routine with a bow to the empty hall.
Except it isn't as empty as he thought when he looks up from his position.
One of the large double doors, the entrance and exit of the performance hall, is open, letting the fluorescent light in from the outside corridor. The pink cookie can't quite see who it is, but he can tell that they are broad and tall, cutting a sharp figure in the light.
And just as he notices them, the door closes, leaving him alone once again.
---
The next morning, an announcement from the royal palace comes in.
The royal family will be coming to watch the theatre's performance!
Activity erupts in the theatre. With just a week of preparation left, everything must be immaculate and perfect. The already immaculate halls and walkways are cleaned, reflective surfaces polished, all the staff on their best behavior and anxious, and the performers practice nearly all hours of the day. Whipped Cream Cookie relishes the sudden influx of energy on the stage and does his best to match it and goes further beyond.
He is practicing alone after hours again tonight, training to measure his jumps and landings so they are exactly as light as the soft piano keys. The sound of the heavy entrance doors opening catches his attention half way through the routine. The pastel cookie notices a figure walking down the steps and taking a seat.
'Could it be the same cookie from last night?' He thinks to himself as he jumps, stretching his legs out for the landing. He doesn't mind having an audience watching him practice. Stage fright is something he had already conquered on his journey in ballet. Rather, he'd like it if the cookie would give him comments so he can improve.
The figure watches him until the end of the routine, then gets up to leave, the door closing behind him.
'I do hope they come a bit closer next time.' Whipped Cream Cookie thinks as he peeks through his fluffed up bangs, head still lowered in a bow.
---
On the third night that he practices after hours, he calls out to the mysterious cookie.
"Dear audience over there, won't you come closer to the stage? I can't imagine hearing the music from there." He says, just finishing up with his stretches. The cookie has come earlier tonight, no doubt they must have already figured out the time when the ballerino would come back for his diligent routine.
The cookie sits still in their seat for almost a minute as Whipped Cream Cookie continues to stare at them, waiting for action. They eventually relents and walks down the steps, coming close enough for the stage lights to reveal a bit of their features, and taking a seat.
The cookie is male. His hair is dark and cut short, save for two stripes of white that hangs over the left side of his face. His shoulders are broad and his jawline strong. His skin is the color of chocolate. The pink cookie can't quite see his eye color or identify anymore of the cookie, but seeing their build, Whipped Cream Cookie guesses he must be one of the extra hands that the management had hired to help complete the sets and props construction.
Whipped Cream Cookie smiles in satisfaction then walks over to the phonograph to start up the music.
The practice goes off without a hitch. The ballerino works on polishing his expressions. How he conveys the emotion of the act, down to the angle of his pointed feet and graceful fingers.
He accidentally looks up from his bow a little too early when he hears applause from his sole audience at the end of the song.
The cookie is clapping for him, the sound of it echoing through the space, though his face remains indifferent, just the gesture alone is enough to make the dancer smile once again.
"Thank you, dear audience." He says, coming up stand properly. He knows the cookie is probably doing for manners' sake, but he's still flattered either way. The routine isn't perfected yet.
"You have come to see me for the past few nights. I hope I've been entertaining enough to help relieve you from the day's work." He picks up the phonograph's needle and takes it off the record.
".......Yes."
The sudden answer almost startled the ballerino into dropping the record he was putting away. He knows the cookie is big, but he didn't expect his voice to be this deep and rich. The smile on his lips widens.
"I'm glad. Please, feel free to come back whenever you like." Whipped Cream Cookie turns to reply to the cookie, who nods in response.
By the time he comes back to put the phonograph away, the cookie is gone.
---
The fourth night, Whipped Cream Cookie was just dragging the table with the phonograph out to the stage when the large cookie appears.
"Oh, hello." The pink cookie greets him, watching the figure walk down the steps once again. He stops a few meters away from the stage.
"...Need help?" The cookie asks, looking at the object Whipped Cream Cookie is holding. It's only just the table, but the ballerino seems to be having problems with it. Even though his body is trained, he's still not good with heavy lifting (dance partners not counting).
"Thank you for the offer, but I'd rather set it up quickly and, uhm, having you walk around to the backstage then here would take some time." Whipped Cream Cookie answers, giving him a slightly dry smile.
The cookie grunts in reply and walks up to the stage, then with a single leap gets on it, crossing the orchestra pit entirely.
'My, workers these days sure are strong.' Whipped Cream Cookie thinks, unconsciously putting a hand up to his mouth in surprise when the cookie jumped, the table's legs meeting the boards with a clunk. The tall cookie walks over and takes the table from his hand. Now that they're standing on the same level, the cookie is easily half a head taller than the dancer. He can see that his eye is the color of sweet strawberry jam.
Whipped Cream Cookie resists the urge to wince when the scars over the cookie's left eyes come into the light.
'That must have hurt..' He thinks and feigns ignorance to the affliction. If the cookie does not wish to talk about it, he will not pry. The pastel cookie leaves to get the phonograph, but the tall cookie follows him and takes the machine before he could even touch it, only letting him get the record.
Seeing how the cookie has helped him voluntarily, he promises to pour more of himself into the routine tonight.
"Thank you...?" The dancer starts, but the sentence falls short when he realizes he doesn't have the other's name.
"..Choco Cookie." The tall cookie answers, face impassive.
"Thank you, Choco Cookie. I'm Whipped Cream Cookie." He snickers. At least now he has a name to match his audience's face. "You may go back to your seat. I'll stretch and begin shortly."
Choco Cookie nods and gets off the stage, leaping back down to the seating areas once again and taking the closest one. With such strong legs, Whipped Cream Cookie wonders if his nightly visitor might have been an athlete.
The practice goes on smoothly, the song tonight is different, clearly stating the start of the next act in the routine. The ballerino gives himself to the practiced motions and the music. The sharp violin melody takes the spotlight in this act as he imagines the scene where the characters waltz together in a ballroom, stepping to the rise and fall of the notes and gradually spinning himself to center stage. Whipped Cream Cookie practices his own steps, but he repeats the scene again in the female's steps too. He's seen one of the dancers in their troupe having trouble with it, so he plans to help her at the next rehearsal. He doesn't need to do this of course, but he can't bear the thought of a mistake, no matter it be his or someone else's.
He receives applause again from Choco Cookie at the end. The cookie leaves after helping the pink cookie put away the equipment.
---
The fifth night, he invites Choco Cookie onstage with him.
"It's nothing much, really, I just need someone to stand in for the motions. You only have to hold my hand when I step over to you." Whipped Cream Cookie explains, looking up to the tall cookie who had once again leapt onstage. The dancer keeps his hands clasped in front of him demurely. Passive as he waits for an answer.
Choco Cookie nods after some deliberation and the pink cookie's eyes light up with joy. He's been practicing the female lead's parts in this act so he can better advise his friend, but doing the balancing alone when there's supposed to be a hand waiting to catch you makes it so he couldn't go all out and really feel the motions.
"Thank you so much! Just stand right here and hold your hand out-like this. Perfect." The ballerino takes his friend's (they should be friends by now, yes? At least he thinks so) hands and pulls him to stand at the spot where the prince character should be when the lead's waltz begins. He quickly darts over to the phonograph and starts up the music.
He twirls himself to the spot where the female lead enters, the unknown lady at the ball, attracting eyes with her charm and glamour. He flutters his eyelashes at the prince, getting into character. He keeps his eyes on Choco Cookie as he does the steps to get himself closer and closer, simulating a lady moving through the crowd with elegance, then he takes the prince's hand, going en pointe on one leg and lifting the other up high as his head dips down in a bow. Now doesn't that feel much better?
At this part of the song, the prince is supposed to lead the lady into the waltz. Hmm, but he's already asked Choco Cookie to do this much...
"I'll go through it a couple more times. Please stay here, Choco Cookie." Whipped Cream Cookie lets go of his hand, feeling calluses on it. A working cookie's hand. No doubt about it.
The dancer rewinds the song and repeats the scene until he's fixed all the flaws in it. He continues into the waltz on his own each time, going through the routine until the end of the scene, but then Choco Cookie moves with him.
'He must have memorised it by watching me.' Whipped Cream Cookie realizes, eyes widening.
The tall cookie leads him into a waltz seamlessly, one hand placed on his waist and the other holding the pink cookie's. Choco Cookie towers over him, but the ballerino persists, keeping himself in character as the lady and following perfectly, not a step out of place. While the large cookie doesn't do any of the delicate dancing, he gets Whipped Cream Cookie to the right position and knows when to pull him up and twirl, his hand always steady and ready to catch the dancer's. Plus, the addition of another person allows the dancer to be more bold with his dips and balances too.
The song ends with pink eyes staring into strawberry red ones. Their faces only a few centimeters apart and breathing slightly labored. The crackling from the phonograph is the only other sound around them.
Ba-dump
'Choco Cookie is.. quite handsome, isn't he?' The thought floats into the ballerino's mind as their eyes continue to stare into each other's. He might be imagining it, but is Choco Cookie...blushing?
"Ahem." The dark cookie clears his throat and averts his eyes to the empty seats, letting go of Whipped Cream Cookie.
"I will...be leaving early tonight." Choco Cookie states, then jumps away to the seats, then with a couple more leaps up the stairs, out the door.
"Ah-good night!" Whipped Cream Cookie says after him, holding his hands to his chest. It seems he will have to finish up early tonight as well.
His heart is beating faster than normal and he feels flushed. This routine sure takes a lot out of him.
---
Whipped Cream Cookie finds Choco Cookie already waiting for him on stage on the sixth night, equipment already set up and ready.
"Are you planning on applying as a stagehand, Choco Cookie?" The ballerino teases, sitting on the floor with his legs out in front of him and reaching over to grab his feet. One must not forget to stretch liberally before heavy exertion.
Choco Cookie hums in response, neither agreeing or disagreeing. That earns a laugh from the pink cookie.
"How about a dancer then? You were doing really well yesterday, my dear prince." Whipped Cream Cookie continues, spreading his legs to the side and bending to grab it, stretching out his arms and torso. He didn't see the dark cookie's eyes widen at the title he calls him with. The pink cookie assumes Choco Cookie must have known the roles beforehand since he would have been making props for the performance. The manager surely must have filled him in on the roles and such. Whipped Cream Cookie laughs again.
"Do not worry. I only jest. With your strength, having you dance would be a waste." He looks back up at his friend and finds the strawberry jam eyes staring at him intently.
"I...do not mind dancing with you." Choco Cookie says, stepping closer to the ballerino and helping him up.
He doesn't let go of his hand.
"I do not mind dancing with you either, but tonight I won't need your hand. The ballroom scene is already finished." Whipped Cream Cookie replies, smiling sweetly and looking up at him through his eyelashes.
A beat passes. Choco Cookie seems to...sulk somehow.
"But if you wish, I could do it again for you." The pink cookie adds, seeing the fading spark of interest in his friend's eyes comes back. It fills him with joy, strangely, like seeing a puppy with its favorite ball returned.
"I will retrieve the record. Please go stand at the spot." Whipped Cream Cookie says and parts from his friend to go to the backstage, coming back with the item and getting everything ready.
The violin starts, the melody sweeping the ballerino into motion as he dances over to his friend once again. He is better, tonight, because of the day's rehearsal. His steps are more assured as he imagines the other dancers around him. Choco Cookie stares at him with intent, like a soldier called to attention, yet there's a layer of interest and, dare he guess it, passion in his eyes. He stands with his back straight and chin up, one hand behind his back and the other outstretched, waiting for his dance partner, imitating the regal form of a prince. Whipped Cream Cookie could almost see it. His tall friend in royal garb. He can't decide if he would look better in black or white, but most definitely the outfit would be accented with gold and maybe red gems like his eyes. He would look dashing with a cape too.
Ba-dump
Their hands meet as practiced, Whipped Cream Cookie's dainty fingers clasped in Choco Cookie's large and steady palm, exactly as the ballerino dips his head down to bow to the royalty. The tall cookie leads him back into center stage with the steps. Their eyes stare into each other as they follow the music. Whipped Cream Cookie twirls and jumps at the cues in the song. The mysterious lady showing off her prowess to the prince, and slowly falling in love with each other as her extravagant moves recede back into stepping in tandem with the prince, the spotlight would shine on them, the crowd would fade away until they are all that's left. Both of their desires grounding them and reducing into a simple want to stay with the other, even just for the night.
Whipped Cream Cookie stares up to Choco Cookie, much like last night. He was so far gone into the dance, he didn't realize that it had ended.
The two slowly come back to normal standing. The pastel cookie moves the hand he rested on the broad shoulders to brush the strands of white away from Choco Cookie's face. He can see the blush blossoming on his dark skin and feel the heat under his fingertips. No doubt his own face must be in the same condition, if the warmth under his skin isn't from exertion. The tall cookie's single red eye flickers with emotion and he leans his head down to the ballerino.
"How kind of you to be my partner, my dear prince." He whispers, as if they really are standing in a ballroom and all eyes are on them. It's their little moment together, undeniably intimate and sacred. Their lips meet, as soft as the flutter of a butterfly's wings. The deep bitterness of chocolate mixes with light sweetness of cream into something perfect. Whipped Cream Cookie's heart fills up. It's similar to the satisfaction he gets when he completes a routine perfectly, but this one is...more...
Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
They part after what feels like an eternity. Choco Cookie takes hold of the small hand on his cheek and presses another gentle kiss on the back of it.
"Thank you...for having me." He says, breathless, and he looks at the smaller cookie with reverence. The pink cookie's blush spreads to his ears.
Whipped Cream Cookie has danced with many partners, but he has never felt like this to any of them.
"The performance is in two days. I...I hope you will come watch me." He says, the words feeling strangely tender in his mouth. The hope in his heart wavers. Even though his friend is hired by the theatre, it'd only be temporary. He would still need to purchase a ticket, and he knows a worker's pay wouldn't be enough.
"I will." Choco Cookie replies, the corner of his lips curving up in a smile.
Whipped Cream Cookie thinks he's even more handsome when he's smiling like this.
---
The seventh night, Whipped Cream Cookie continues his practice into the last act. Choco Cookie watches him from the frontmost seats, eyes filled with adoration. The dancer puts his all into the routine, flaunting himself for his sole audience. Focusing on just the tall cookie helps boost his confidence. The night ends with Choco Cookie coming up on stage and them sitting together, legs hanging from the edge of the stage, holding each other's hand.
"I must let my body rest, so I won't be here tomorrow." Whipped Cream Cookie says as he leans on the tall cookie's side, feeling his bulk and his warmth through the long sleeved shirt. Choco Cookie runs his thumb over the delicate hand. The contrast of their skin is stark, but the pink cookie finds himself liking it. The dark cookie nods in understanding.
"Have you gotten your ticket, Choco Cookie? Where is your seat?"
The cookie responds by pointing to the far back of the seating area, up the steps, just under the seating box for esteemed guests above.
"I see." Whipped Cream Cookie looks to the spot. He supposes the tall cookie's height would not be a problem if he's all the way there, though the pink cookie would have a hard time locating him among the faces, or even see him in the shadows.
"There's a rumor among the staff about the royal family. Have you heard of it?"
Choco Cookie shakes his head. Maybe the construction team doesn't have as much time to gossip as the cleaners and the dancers.
"They say the eldest prince has returned from his quest, and he's going to be coming to the performance." Whipped Cream Cookie says, keeping his eyes on the seats. The sudden squeeze of his hand pulls his attention back. He turns to see the strawberry red eye staring at him pensively.
"Do not worry. I doubt I'll be able to meet him anyways. The other dancers would be all over him." He snickers, holding their connected hands with both of his and looking down at it.
Choco Cookie opens his mouth, but then closes it, as if he's unsure of what to say.
"Just your eyes on me is enough. The prince is only another guest." The ballerino assures him. It's adorable how the large cookie is protective of him. No one would expect someone of his stature to sulk at the thought of having another eye on...
Now that he thinks about it. What are they?
"I will come for you after the show." Choco Cookie says like he's making a vow, determined to keep his word. He kisses the dancer's hand.
Whipped Cream Cookie looks up at him and smiles, gentle and sweet. Their lips meet again to seal the promise.
"I will wait for you then."
---
Cookies fill the theatre's hall with chatter. Everyone is excited for the performance, and the staff even more so. The dancers are buzzing around backstage, some sneaking a peek through the velvet curtains' gap to see the crowd.
The royal family should be here soon enough. The manager will make an announcement to honor them before the show begins.
Whipped Cream Cookie sits at his table, getting dolled up by the makeup team. He looks at himself in the mirror and takes a deep breath. The telltale signs of stage fright surfacing, but he pushes them down. He has made sure time and time again that all of his steps are perfect. The troupe's coordination polished to near systematic efficiency. He can hear the orchestra warming up among the chaos. The pink cookie gets up from the table so another cookie could have their makeup done.
Then the horns begin to play. The crowd quiets down and the director's voice booms, announcing the royal family.
"King Cookie, Queen Cookie, Princess Cookie, and Prince Dark Choco Cookie!"
Applause echoes through the hall and some of the dancers try to see through the curtains, but the stage hands hold them back and the ballet coach instructs them to get into formation.
The curtains draw back. The music rises. The performance starts.
The story is of a maiden who has been cursed by a sorcerer to have the form of a swan. With the help of the ruler of fairies, she meets the prince of the kingdom and they fell in love, but at the peak of the story, the sorcerer's daughter disguises herself as the maiden, and tricks the prince into professing his love for her instead. After a duel between the rule of fairies and the sorcerer, the ruler of fairies falls, but the maiden's and the prince's love for each other reflects the sorcerer's spell and destroys him, reverting the curses done to the fairy people and the maiden. She marries the prince in the end and becomes the next queen.
Whipped Cream Cookie appears as the ruler of fairies. Now returned to full power, he gracefully dances in the large seashell that rises from the lake. His hair has been temporarily colored lilac. A golden crown on a bed of soft cream ruffles and strings of pearls adorns his fluffy hair. A ruffled collar and loose sleeves adds to the outfit, and his torso is covered by a cloth that separates into two triangles, trimmed with gold and laced at the edges. It covers his chest and billows over his shoulders, nearly reaching the floor, giving the appearance of large wings. Golden ribbons are wrapped loosely around his legs and a golden star rests on the center of his chest, catching the light. He leads the fairies and the couple into a night of reverie, celebrating their triumph over the sorcerer.
Pink eyes look out to the crowd to where Choco Cookie has said he would be sitting, he didn't get a chance to in the earlier scenes he was in, but a familiar face catches his eye in the seating box above instead.
It's...Choco Cookie...no, Prince Dark Choco Cookie, dressed in black and gold, sitting next to King Cookie.
He gulps down his surprise and continues with the dance, right until the end.
As the curtain call comes, the performers line up and bow to the applauding masses, then the leading characters come out for their solos. When it's Whipped Cream Cookie's turn, he looks up to the royal box. The prince is out of his seat, his hands clapping with fervor.
Just your eyes on me is enough.
The ballerino twirls then kneels down with one hand over his heart, the other extended to the prince. Their eyes seem to meet. He spots something white on the royalty's chest before he has to get up and skip his way to join the sidelines, allowing the male and female leads to come out. He claps along to the music. It's their first time being main characters, so he's happy for them.
As the curtains close, the cookies scramble to get out of their costumes and makeup. Whipped Cream Cookie patiently waits his turn, taking off the crown and putting it back in its box. The performance has ended well and he couldn't be more grateful for it.
I will come for you after the show.
Even though Choco...Dark Choco Cookie has promised him that, will it even be possible? The royal family must have somewhere to be after this. They wouldn't let the returned prince stray away.
But...hasn't he come and watched him practice alone all those nights?
This isn't like their usual meet up. Cookies will swarm the prince for his attention. Whipped Cream Cookie may be a skilled dancer and they may have had...something...together, but-
He's snapped out of his musings by someone calling his name.
"Whipped Cream Cookie! A guest has sent this to you!" One of the stage hands sidles up to him. In their hands is a small box with a glass lid, displaying a rosette, made of dark chocolate ribbons entwined into petals, sitting upon a red velvet pillow.
Receiving gifts after a grand show is not uncommon. Usually he would get bouquets of flowers, like white and pink roses, but never a piece of jewelry.
The pink cookie thanks the stage hand, who quickly goes away to help the other performers, and opens up the box, taking out the rosette, marvelling at the craftsmanship.
He finds a single strawberry red gem among the petals. A triangular cut ruby. Inspecting the velvet pillow yields a small note.
The discovery fills him with relief.
'It's from him'
He holds the rosette delicately to his chest, taking a moment to calm himself down.
Dark Choco Cookie didn't forget. The prince didn't forget him.
Whipped Cream Cookie quickly changes out of his costume after that, wiping the temporary color out of his hair then putting the rosette in it. A familiar contrast of colors. He bids the troupe goodbye for the night and walks out into the corridor. The traffic is considerably thinner than before the show starts, so the pink cookie is alone. He reads the little paper note now.
The royal box
Then there he shall go.
The ballerino navigates himself to the staircase close to the performance hall's entrance. He finds no cookies in his way as he goes up to the second floor, which is also empty.
The place where the royal family was seated is the one right in the middle.
Whipped Cream Cookie pushes the door open and enters. He usually doesn't come up to these seats, so seeing the stage from above is actually quite refreshing. They're closer to it than he expected.
He goes to lean on the short walls in front of the seats, meant to prevent anyone from falling over, and looks down to the stage. A lone janitor is sweeping it. The props collected and put away. Maybe if they're lucky, they will be brought out again for future performances.
The dancer was so preoccupied by the thought of reenacting the routine, he misses the sound of the door opening and closing behind him, nor the footsteps.
Warm arms curl themselves around his waist. Whipped Cream Cookie jumps in surprise, but calms down when he smells chocolate, rich and a little bitter.
"Choco Cookie." He turns around, seeing the dark cookie's face staring at him intently, a small smile already on his face, the long scar doing nothing to lessen his handsomeness. The ballerino catches himself and averts his gaze from the prince's face, looking at the empty seat on the side instead.
"My apologies, your highness." He nods his head in place of a bow. That seems to make the smile fade.
"Whipped Cream Cookie, please." Dark Choco Cookie's deep voice rumbles with fondness. "It is still me."
The ballerino feels the prince's hand brushes against his hair and down to cup his cheek, forcing their eyes to meet. He's sure the tall cookie can see and feel the heat spreading on his face.
"And here I thought you were just a simple worker..." He grasps the larger hand and pulls it away, letting it hang by his side.
"I didn't mean to lie to you." Dark Choco Cookie's brows furrow, his single eye focused on the dancer in his arms.
"Then why?" Pink eyes stare at the royalty. Emotions rise within his heart. Confusion, happiness, sadness...
Love?
"...I was scared." The prince answers after a second of deliberation. The hand resting on Whipped Cream Cookie's waist retracts.
"The first time I found you, I was inspecting the theatre before the princess decided she wanted to see the play." He clenches his hands into fists.
The dancer notices the white accessory on his chest now.
It's a rosette made from white cream ribbons, slightly tinged with pink. He can see a couple small pearls scattered between the petals too.
"I didn't mean to see you, or even talk to you, but...I couldn't stop myself from coming back." Dark Choco Cookie seems to almost sink into himself, his broad shoulders slacking from the perfect pose. He tips his head down.
"I thanked and cursed my luck when you didn't recognize me. I was no prince. Just a weary cookie looking for solace after a busy day, and I found you." The single eye dares to glance at the pastel cookie's face. The blush has spread, encompassing his entire visage in red. He's shaking, though from what the royalty does not know.
"I wanted to tell you earlier, but my fear forbade me from it. I was scared of how the distance between us will grow. How you will put me on a pedestal and never speak to me like we had ever again. You were my friend, Whipped Cream Cookie, and now that I have recognized my feelings for you as more, I intend to court you as it would fit your honor." The tall cookie takes a step back and kneels down, startling the dancer out of his daze.
"Your highness-" The ballerino quickly leans down, trying to urge him to stand up once more.
"Whipped Cream Cookie. My dear swan," Dark Choco Cookie takes hold of a dainty hand once more, his other one resting above his heart. He looks up and their eyes meet. "I beg of you. Will you grant me one more chance? I swear on my honor, heart and soul that I will be by your side and make you happy. I do not expect reciprocation, nor your trust. I know that I have ruined what was between us. But will you allow me this chance to make things right?"
"I...Dark Choco Cookie..." Whipped Cream Cookie stammers. If not for their linked hand, he surely would have collapsed from how overworked his heart has gotten. Dark Choco Cookie stares up at him with hope in his eye and he can almost feel himself melt.
"Yes."
Relief washes over the royalty and he finally stands up, pulling the ballerino into an embrace.
"May I kiss you?" Dark Choco Cookie asks, voice just above a whisper.
"Yes." The pastel cookie answers.
He presses a kiss on the white locks, then his cheeks. Whipped Cream Cookie couldn't resist the smile that found its way onto his face when the tip of his nose was also kissed. He curls both of his arms around the prince's neck and their lips meet, softly, then more passionately.
He has a feeling that the number of chocolate roses he will receive after a show is about to be exponentially larger. As well as the love in his heart.