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Shadow Milk Cookie wiped the remnants of jam from his lip, a mixture of frustration and exhilaration coursing through his veins as he trudged back toward the spire. His body ached from the altercation with White Lily Cookie, but he found himself more irked than anything else. How dare she try to paint him as the villain? As if he was some captor, chaining Pure Vanilla to his side. Ridiculous.
His boots clicked against the marble flooring as he stepped inside, shaking off the tension from the fight. A slow exhale left his lips—until his sharp eyes flickered toward the tall window near the staircase.
Pure Vanilla Cookie was standing there. Watching.
Shadow Milk froze mid-step. A jolt of something—panic, anger, guilt?—shot through his chest like lightning. Pure Vanilla’s expression wasn’t one of shock or horror, nor was it laced with the naïve kindness he usually wore. It was unreadable.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air in the spire grew unbearably thick, silence weighing down between them like an iron chain. Shadow Milk’s fingers twitched at his side. His mind scrambled for an excuse, a sneer, something to keep the power in his hands, but nothing came.
Pure Vanilla finally moved, stepping away from the window, his gaze locked onto Shadow Milk’s with quiet intensity. “You fought with her.” It wasn’t a question.
Shadow Milk forced out a laugh, rolling his shoulders back. “She started it.”
“That doesn’t mean you had to finish it.”
“Oh, please,” Shadow Milk scoffed, arms crossing over his chest. “She was spewing nonsense about me hurting you. Said I was keeping you hostage. Tell me that isn’t the funniest thing you’ve heard all day.”
Pure Vanilla didn’t laugh.
The silence stretched between them again, longer this time. More suffocating.
“…Did she hurt you?” Pure Vanilla asked softly, stepping closer. His hands hovered at his sides, as if debating whether or not to reach out.
Shadow Milk clicked his tongue, tilting his head with an easy smirk. “What, worried about me? How sweet.”
“I am.”
The amusement in Shadow Milk’s face twitched, faltering for a split second. He quickly recovered, but his pulse betrayed him, hammering in his ears. He wasn’t prepared for that. He wasn’t prepared for the truth in those words.
“Pfft. I don’t need your sympathy, nilly,” he drawled, turning on his heel. “If anything, I should be the one worried. She looked about ready to gut me.”
A pause. Then—
“She’s worried about me.”
Shadow Milk stopped. His back stiffened. “…What?”
Pure Vanilla’s voice remained gentle, yet firm. “White Lily Cookie came to that conclusion because she’s afraid for my safety. That means something happened to make her feel that way.”
Shadow Milk’s fingers curled into fists. “So what?”
“So,” Pure Vanilla continued, stepping forward again, “why does she think you’re dangerous?”
A sharp laugh tore from Shadow Milk’s throat as he spun to face him again. “Oh, I don’t know! Maybe because she’s a self-righteous, sanctimonious brat who thinks she knows what’s best for you?”
Pure Vanilla’s expression didn’t change. “And do you?”
Shadow Milk felt his breath catch. That wasn’t fair.
“I—”
He shut his mouth. No. No, no, no, he wasn’t playing this game.
With a sharp inhale, Shadow Milk turned on his heel once more and made his way toward the staircase. He could feel Pure Vanilla’s eyes boring into his back, but he refused to acknowledge it. He refused to let those words sink any deeper.
Just as he reached the top step, Pure Vanilla spoke again.
“…I wasn’t watching because I was afraid.”
Shadow Milk paused, just for a moment, grip tightening on the railing.
Pure Vanilla’s voice was unwavering. “I was watching because I was worried. For you.”
Shadow Milk exhaled sharply through his nose, forcing his usual smirk back into place. “You worry too much, angel. You should save that for someone who actually needs it.”
He didn’t look back as he disappeared into the halls of the spire, but Pure Vanilla’s words echoed in his mind long after he shut the door behind him.