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Shadow Milk Cookie knew one thing for certain.
Pure Vanilla was very warm.
He couldn't get over the tempting warmth that radiated from the Ancient hero from the first time he was softly embraced in the blinding light of truth and deceit - a hug from someone who wanted to understand him. Pure Vanilla for sure could not completely understand him, but perhaps he was the only one who could - and wanted to.
Shadow Milk's mind still flashed back to the moment they stood there, with nothing but themselves and the imperfect light surrounding them all.
Warm. Real. Sweet like saccharine. Like being hugged by the sun.
That was the only way Shadow Milk could describe it.
Warm.
He was currently lingering in the darkness underneath Pure Vanilla's bed - weary and exhausted. He stifled a yawn; feeling wet smudges all along the brims of his eyelids.
Pure Vanilla had offered him a place in the Vanilla Kingdom - with the Ancient there to help him learn and grow anew out of his twisted ways, step by step. Shadow Milk had tried pulling some tricks, a little nasty tomfoolery here and there, but surprisingly, Pure Vanilla did not resist his chicanery one bit - remaining patient and calm even when the jester did everything to get on his nerves.
Shadow Milk thought he was insane, but there was no trace of madness in the healer’s eyes once.
As soon as they arrived at the castle, he had called dibs for the shadows casted by the bed in Pure Vanilla's chambers, refusing to sleep in any areas touched by the light, preferring to stay in the beckoning shade.
But unfortunately, the shadows were cold as the Dark Cacao Kingdom’s hostile snowstorms. Not as warm as he'd like them to be.
He had tried other areas of the bedroom to try and gain a night-time reprieve, but none of them worked.
Excepts the cloak on the desk chair, that is.
One day, Shadow Milk scoured around the entire room for the most comfy spot he could find.
But there was nothing. Except a new blanket of darkness that was occasionally draped over the furniture.
And thus, with no other option left, Shadow Milk snuck into the tempting, starry blue darkness of Pure Vanilla's cloak; hanging from the chair by the desk, it laid itself in the perfect position where it was completely untouched by the gleaming light.
But unlike the gloom underneath the bed, and practically everywhere else in the room, Pure Vanilla's cloak was warm. There was no other way to describe it. So warm that the first time he crawled into its darkness, he had to do everything to stop himself from suddenly tearing up.
Pure Vanilla was the beckoning light he never had in his life, and it certainly made Shadow Milk feel a lot of emotions.
But right now, Pure Vanilla was gone. He had gone out earlier while Shadow Milk was snoozing, but the lingering warmth the Ancient left behind was not enough to keep him satisfied. He felt cold, shivering as he let out a scoff; he crawled out from the darkness and shapeshifted from his goopy shadow-scouring form into his normal Cookie appearance.
He gazed around the empty room, early sunbeams of daybreak softly streaking through the window - wispy paint strokes of morning light to start the day.
He had to find Pure Vanilla. That was the only thing his mind set itself to.
Not because I want to see him. It’s just for the stupid cloak.
Floating over to the desk, atop of the piles of neatly handwritten letters, was a note.
Went out to go relax a bit in the meadows before the sunrise. Be back soon.
~ Pure Vanilla Cookie
Grumbling with arms crossed, Shadow Milk tapped his hand irritably as he flitted out the window to the balcony - scowling as the cool, dewy breeze hit him. He jumped off the railing into the sky, fading into invisibility as he went out to search for the Ancient.
Soaring over the clouds and flocks of birds migrating, Shadow Milk glided over the vast landscape of the Vanilla Kingdom, his mismatched eyes narrowed and scanning to spot the Kingdom's lush green meadows. As his eyes caught onto a large patch of viridian dotted with white specks, he veered his course over to it, flying down over to the field.
He landed with a soft thump on the grass, blinking as his gaze roamed across the dancing white orchids and lilies in the breeze. Taking a few steps forward, he languidly strode across the meadow until he could get a better vantage point of its entirety. The sky was a gentle rosy orange as the sun emerged over the horizon, the beams of light making the flowers appear in gorgeous shades of violet and cerise.
It was a calming, serene quiet, only broken by the warbling and chirping of blueberry birds far off in the branches of distant trees. Peaceful as always, typical of the Vanilla Kingdom. Shadow Milk could easily tear that away if he desired, but he didn't see any worth in screwing over it right now. It would certainly be amusing to him, though.
Shadow Milk sighed, a deep frown as his brow twitched in annoyance. Where was Pure Vanilla at? He always acted with such grace and tenderness to the point where it easily became a mocking feature of his; the old fool was wasting his time lazily dozing off in the pastures like this. The jester whirled around, his eyes shifting back and forth to search for the Ancient.
"Witches, where is he?!” Shadow Milk hissed under his breath, and turned back to -
Well. There he was alright.
Some ways away, Pure Vanilla was sitting with his legs crossed on the ground; golden and blue eyes closed in demure contemplation. His long hair drifted off to the side, trailing behind him onto the grass, streaks of pale gold flayed over the green. He was eerily still, his breathing almost inaudible under the hushed sounds of the wind. Shadow Milk froze, not daring to move, his eyes firmly locked on the prize firmly laid beside the blonde - the neatly folded straw-pigmented cloak.
Fortunately, Pure Vanilla did not seem to be aware of his presence - Shadow Milk was still invisible - and the silence was broken when he started humming some melody the jester didn't recognize.
Silently, he morphed into a wisp, falling back into the lanky shadows casted by the grasses, slinking over to the cloak again to settle in its darkness - its idyllic heat engulfed him, and with a soft sigh of contentment he snuggled back into its cozy warmth at last.
There no other words to describe absolute bliss; he could sleep here forever if he wanted to.
Not that he would tell anyone of course.
Unbeknownst to Shadow Milk, Pure Vanilla had opened one eye to glance at his cloak, his smile growing slightly as he continued to hum. He knew that Shadow Milk would come and find him here. He had left earlier knowing that the jester would be cold, and wanted to subconsciously drag him outside to enjoy the sunrise by bringing his cloak along - knowing that Shadow Milk would very well come for it, beckoned by its warmth.
A long time seemed to pass as Pure Vanilla continued his meditation - before he stopped and turned his full attention to the cloak. Leaning down to the ground, hanging his head a few inches above his cape, he delicately let out a faint whisper.
"Shadow Milk Cookie?"
No response. Lingering above it, he smiled, before brushing his fingers lightly over the fabric.
Silence still, before Pure Vanilla contemplated for a moment. He knew Shadow Milk was cozied up in the folded darkness of his cloak, but there was a solid chance he could feel other sensations than the solo warmth of the mantle.
Slowly, Pure Vanilla buried his face into it, gently breathing in its vanilla scent, tinged of sweet blueberries as he nuzzled his head against the cape.
“Hope you have a good rest.”
He stood like that for a while, the smile still resting on his face before he sat back up. The healer turned his gaze back towards the sky, his humming continuing - but not even a moment later, a form suddenly manifested in the space beside Pure Vanilla's cloak, catching his attention once more.
It was Shadow Milk, his gaze pinpointed to the ground, face flushed a rather suspicious hue of deep blue as he sat facing the Ancient.
Well. Judging by his reaction, it was most definite that Shadow Milk had sensed Pure Vanilla's movements while nestled in his cape.
"Good morning," Pure Vanilla slanted open his eyes, perking an eyebrow curiously.
Shadow Milk's slitted pupils darted to him for a fraction of a second before averting again, hugging his knees to his chest - and he uttered a "…mornin'." back.
"Hehe. How was your nap?"
Shadow Milk hid his face, mumbling. "What was that for.”
“Hmm?”
“You know what it is,” Shadow Milk growled, giving him a flustered scowl. “You knew I was in there. You woke me up with all your pathetic coddling.”
A half-shrug; Pure Vanilla wasn’t going to deny that - in fact, he found it rather endearing. If anything, he expected the other Cookie to be in a deep sleep. But he wasn’t.
“And?”
Shadow Milk let out a “hrmph” before veering his eyes away, his face still extremely flushed.
Pure Vanilla leaned forward, his blue and yellow eyes half-lidded in amusement. “And? Did you enjoy your nap?”
“…t’was fine.”
The healer perked an eyebrow before Shadow Milk reeled back, narrowing his eyes at him. “EUGHHHH, enough of that!!” he scrunched his face. “Anyway. Your room is waayyy too cold. It's freezing."
"I can see that," Pure Vanilla chuckled, slightly tilting his head.
"…you need a room heater, pronto." he grumbled.
"I see you made the trek all the way here for me," the Ancient remarked, earning an abashed look of embarrassment from the jester.
"It wasn't for you," Shadow Milk angrily rubbed his face, ignoring the ever growing blush on his cheeks.
"Oh really?" Pure Vanilla raised one hand to his mouth to hide his smile.
"Yes, really," the eyes in Shadow Milk's hair did a collective roll with his own.
"You really seemed to enjoy snuggling within my cloak," Pure Vanilla couldn't stop himself from grinning as the other Cookie glared venomously at him.
"Only because it's not cold!" Shadow Milk flared. He let out a huff, crossing his arms indignantly.
A soft smirk of amusement, as Pure Vanilla gestured to the cloak with one hand, gently nudging it towards him. "Would you like it still? I can make it warmer for you, if you'd like."
"Absolutely not." He cowered, scooted back several paces, swerving his body away from the Ancient. Giving him a side-eye before turning his head away, his blue and black hair curled inward.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Hm.”
Shadow Milk said nothing, his back turned to Pure Vanilla, sulking several feet away on the grass as Pure Vanilla blinked at him.
The blonde slowly lifted up the cloak, holding it out to Shadow Milk, who gave no response. But when he shook it, the jester’s mismatched eyes flitted to it.
Leaning the slightest bit forward, Pure Vanilla murmured, "It’s okay. Here. I know you really like how warm it is."
He perked up, a brief flash of uneasiness on his face; he paused for a long moment as his eyes, wide like a cat, darted between the cape and its owner. He didn’t want to give into the temptation, gritting his teeth indecisively - but it was too strong.
He wanted the warmth.
All of it.
He crawled towards Pure Vanilla’s cloak, burying his face in it with a ruffle.
The Ancient’s lips upturned into a smile, and carefully - settling his arms around him - he dragged Shadow Milk closer so he could softly drape the cloak over the other Cookie’s back entirely.
Shadow Milk closed his eyes, wrapping himself in the warmth of it. He laid down on the grass, curling up beside Pure Vanilla; the edges of his mouth perking up when he settled into the sweet, alluring warmth, relaxing as he rested his head on the other’s lap.
Pure Vanilla gazed down at him, gently pressing the back of his hand to the side of Shadow Milk’s face- almost retracting when he shivered under the healer’s touch - but he firmly set his hand down, and he could feel Shadow Milk lean in to it. He was cool and smooth, and the healer couldn’t stop himself from smiling more and more as he set another hand in Shadow Milk’s hair to stroke it gently. He returned to his humming, a mellifluous melody weaving through the air as the sun peeked its greetings to the world once more.
“…Nilly,” a hushed whisper from Shadow Milk as Pure Vanilla caressed his hair.
“Hm?”
“When you said you wanted to get to know me… did you really, really mean it?”
Pure Vanilla took a deep, slow breath in. “I assume that’s what you might want to believe especially considering the way I lied to you back at the Spire. But… yes. Of all things, I truly, truly want to know you.”
“Truly?” Shadow Milk’s eye opened, gazing blankly up at him.
“Yes, truly.” Pure Vanilla smiled.
“Hmm.” Shadow Milk closed his eye. He shifted around, trying to get into a more considerable position. Lulled by the waves of sleep, he found himself drifting off again. No longer in the cloak, but at the hands of the Cookie who truly wanted to know him. To understand him.
Shadow Milk had never felt warmer and safer in his life.
A gentle prod. Shadow Milk grumbled as he felt a hand stroke the side of his face, and he groggily lifted an eye open.
Only to be greeted to the sight of Pure Vanilla leaning his head down toward him, his yellow and blue eyes engulfing Shadow Milk’s vision.
!!!!
Shadow Milk’s eyes shot wide open, quickly scrambling to his feet to get away—though, rather ungracefully—and he ended up smashing his forehead hard against Pure Vanilla’s as he stumbled back up.
Well, the rest of his blissful reprieve was very much cut short.
“OW ow ow ow ow, by all the Witches,” Shadow Milk hissed, recoiling from the burning sensation of pain; he glared at Pure Vanilla, stunned by the sudden commotion - blinking with his gold and cerulean eyes in surprise, one hand lifted to feel his face. He only had a slight mark in the area where Shadow Milk hit him.
“Ah- um,” the healer turned a confused glance at Shadow Milk, who was furiously rubbing his own face. “S-Shadow Milk? Are you… alright…?”
“YESi’mfinenowstopworryingaboutit,” he muffled out. He pulled his hands away, revealing a rather large bruise above his eye.
“I-You have a bruise on your face,” Pure Vanilla’s eyes knotted with worry - he got to his feet as he reached out his hand to the the jester, who, instinctively shrank away, wanting to hide his injury, but didn’t resist as the gentle hand grazed the area where the bruise bloomed all over.
Shadow Milk bit his lip as it seared, but he stopped as he felt the pain slowly dissipate as the wound mended.
“What… What are you doing?”
“Healing you,” Pure Vanilla whispered, his other hand cupping the side of his face, turning the injury in his direction. He slightly tilted his head downward, leaning forward. But instantly Shadow Milk jumped away, letting out another hiss as he skittered back like a cornered animal.
“Stop-STOP that!” Shadow Milk glowered, feeling his face heating up again.
“Shadow Milk,” Pure Vanilla stated calmly, “come here, or I can’t heal your wound.”
“No, it’s- ARGHHHHH,” he slouched, letting out a groan.
The Ancient tilted his head. “What?”
“Stop doing that thing, where you’re tilting your head like your gonna- You know what, no. No.”
“Shadow Milk,” Pure Vanilla repeated, “I don’t understand what you mean if you don’t tell me. Please, just come here. It’ll be quick, I promise.”
The jester stood up straight, his scowl not leaving his now-darkened face. “Then stop rubbing your face against everything like you’re cuddling a cute little baby animal! Once is enough!!”
Shadow Milk shuddered. There was something about it that felt… wrong. So wrong, that it twisted his insides in various ways that made him giddy and skittish and furious at the same time - like three pieces of cake flavors blended together into a delighted, disastrous mess of chaos and confusion.
He hated it. But alas, the unbearable cold was crawling all over him, and the temptation- the yearning- made him want to crumble.
Pure Vanilla raised his eyebrows. “Oh… is that what this is about?”
“Y-yes,” Shadow Milk mumbled under his breath.
“Shadow Milk, I cannot hear you.”
“I SAID YES!!!!” he hollered.
Pure Vanilla sighed. “Shadow Milk… it’s simply a way I express care and affection for others.”
“Pfft- PSHAHAHAHAHA!!!” the jester burst out into cackling. “Care and affection? Seriously Vanilly, sometimes I still cannot believe how ridiculous you are. The King of the Vanilla Kingdom, getting cozy and snug with every Cookie he sees? Wild!! OUTRAGEOUS! BLASPHEMY!! Oh, I’m almost jealous!!”
Pure Vanilla’s expression did not falter, and he stood with his hands politely stacked on one another. “…And… are you?”
Shadow Milk gave him a dangerous glare.
“Like I said,” Pure Vanilla continued, his brow raised in a placid, austere manner, “To put it, it is my way of expressing love. I do it with those I care for, including you. If you do not like it, then simply let me know, and I will not do it with you.”
Shadow Milk stopped, his frown disappearing into a deadpan.
Pure Vanilla tilted his head, beckoning him forward. “So, do you want me to do it or no?”
The jester opened his mouth to utter something - then he tore his gaze from the Ancient, lapsing into incomprehensible mumbling.
“I mean it’s not like I hate it or anything…”
The blonde raised out his hand, the edge of his mouth perking up. “…So you like it then?”
“Mmmrmrmrmsmshshh.”
“…Shadow Milk?”
Shadow Milk turned to Pure Vanilla again, this time without a word, his eyes worn out.
He was cold.
He was tired.
As much as he wanted to blast the Ancient in the face for trying to get all “cozy” with him, he didn’t have the energy nor did he have the urge to, it completely sucked out of him by how exhausted he was.
And the pain didn’t help very much either.
The only urge left in him was wanting to return to that oh-so comforting warmth.
Shadow Milk trudged over to Pure Vanilla - standing face to face with the healer - he directed his gaze towards the ground.
Once more, Pure Vanilla pulled him forward; closing his eyes, he softly rested his forehead against Shadow Milk’s.
The pain was completely gone now. Shadow Milk felt a light warmth wrapping around him once more - Pure Vanilla’s cloak. He broke away from their contact, looking at the Ancient with wide eyes, his slitted pupils dilated in awe.
“All good now? No more pain?” Pure Vanilla smiled, opening his yellow and blue eyes - a fraction of silky gold amongst all the mesmerizing azure, navy, and obsidian reflections. His hands rested on Shadow Milk’s shoulders, his grip firm yet tender.
Shadow Milk gave a tiny, demure smile back.
“…Yeah. …Thanks, Nilly.”