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A delicate hand, soft and gentle to touch met one that were rough and calloused, thumbs caressing one another. The Cacaonian monarch, who had evidently just returned from one of his dutiful journey with moderate injuries, sat in politeness infront of the shorter blonde. And like always a worried Pure Vanilla was there to treat him right after. However it felt different this time.
"Vanilla." The king broke the silence, his voice as equally rough though it did not startle the healer who seemed so enthralled with his work. "Yes, Cacao?" The Vanillian replied after what seemed like hours, his free hand slowly working its abilities over the other's wounds which gave out no reaction. "You are not normally this.. Sluggish. Is something the matter?"
The blonde only shook his head, a small smile coming with it. He opens his eyes just slightly, squinting to focus on a specific wound on Dark Cacao's arm. "Oh, not at all." Was the only response given back to the even more curious Cacao who now has his head tilted. Pure Vanilla couldn't help but let out a small laugh, squeezing Cacao's hand.
"I.. Want to look, for a little longer. At your scars I mean. If thats is okay." The Vanillian king said rather sheepishly, looking more so when he notices Dark Cacao's furrowed brows. "They fascinate me so, knowing each has a story held within them.." His hand, still healing by the fingertips, trails along down to Dark Cacao's wrist to point at a specific mark. "Such as this."
Dark Cacao's eyes followed the hand and snickered, a rare smile on his lips. "Ah, your archery training. Had you wanted to hit me on purpose when you nearly tore my hand off?" Pure Vanilla gave an offended look, pressing down on the mark with his thumb. "My hitting accuracy is most precise! you will surely crumble the next time I manage a bow." The Vanillian jokes, earning Dark Cacao's hands wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. "I'm sure you will, my dear."
Pure Vanilla takes a moment to compose himself before resting his cheek on Dark Cacao's head. He hums, continuing the roaming of his fingertips along scars over scars with stories he was all too familiar with. He stops on one again.
"How about this one?"
