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The crisp morning air barely registered in Shadow Milk Cookie’s mind as he stepped outside, the remnants of warmth from Pure Vanilla’s home still clinging to him. His breath came out in wisps against the cool breeze, and for once, he let himself feel it—the subtle caress of the wind, the distant chirps of blueberry birds, the strange stillness that came from a kingdom waking up without him on its mind.
It was unfamiliar. Almost… nice.
His arms crossed over his chest as he wandered toward the garden, fingers twitching as he mulled over the morning’s events. Pancakes. Of all things, Pure Vanilla had insisted he eat pancakes. He had never once thought about breakfast before—never needed to—but the way Pure Vanilla had insisted, the way his eyes softened when he placed the plate in front of him, the way he seemed so genuinely pleased when Shadow Milk had taken that first hesitant bite…
It was unsettling.
And yet, it was the first time he hadn’t felt like a ghost drifting through his own existence.
A scoff left him as he ran a hand through his hair. He was getting too comfortable. He needed to—
A gust of wind slammed into him, sending him staggering back a step. Before he could react, a figure landed before him with all the grace of a vengeful specter.
White Lily Cookie.
Her eyes were wild, brimming with an unspoken fury, and her hands trembled at her sides. There was no preamble, no moment to assess her intentions—she lunged.
Shadow Milk barely twisted out of the way in time, a sharp laugh bubbling past his lips. "Now this is a way to start the day. What’s got you so riled up, princess?"
“You,” White Lily spat, whirling to face him. Her voice trembled, not with fear, but with unbridled rage. “What have you done to him?!”
Shadow Milk tilted his head, feigning innocence. “Oh? You’ll have to be more specific, dear. I do so many things.”
“Don’t play coy!” she hissed. “You’re keeping him there. You’ve poisoned his mind! I know you’re hurting him—I see it.”
A grin pulled at Shadow Milk’s lips, his stance shifting to something deliberately relaxed. “Ah. So that’s what this is about. You think I have your precious little Pure Vanilla trapped?” He took a languid step forward, reveling in the way her fingers twitched, the way her breathing grew heavier. “Tell me, darling… Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe—just maybe—he wants to be around me?”
“Liar,” she seethed. “He’s too kind, too good to—”
“To what?” he purred. “To choose me? To let me be close to him? Oh, sweetheart, that says far more about you than it does about me.”
Her entire body tensed, and for a brief moment, Shadow Milk thought she might strike him again. He almost wanted her to.
Instead, she let out a shuddering breath. “I won’t let you sink your claws into him.”
“Oh, but I already have, haven’t I?” he whispered, stepping just close enough that she had to crane her neck to hold his gaze. “And do you want to know the best part?” His voice dipped, sweet and venomous. “He’s letting me.”
The slap came harder than expected, sending his head snapping to the side. He could taste jam on his tongue, the sting blooming across his cheek. But all it did was make him laugh, quiet and breathless.
“Oh, Lily,” he mused, licking the corner of his mouth. “You really do hate losing, don’t you?”
Her hands clenched into fists. “This isn’t over.”
He wiped at his mouth, flashing her a lazy grin. “I certainly hope not.”
Without another word, White Lily spun on her heel, disappearing as quickly as she had arrived. Shadow Milk remained where he was, the echoes of her fury still tingling in the air. His heart pounded—whether from exhilaration or something else, he wasn’t sure.
With a final, amused chuckle, he turned back toward the house.
Time to see if Pure Vanilla made more pancakes.