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Candy Apple barges into the dimly lit bedroom of the Recluse, her loud footsteps echoing the clicking of her heels against the tile. She huffs as she carries a bowl of food, clearly forced into paying him a visit.
The husk of Pure Vanilla lays in his bed, lacking the energy to properly arise and get ready for the day ahead. Is there much of a point if all that awaits him is the tortuous games his other half prepares for him?
Candy Apple groans again as she places the bowl of hot jelly stew onto his bedside table. She crosses her arms and leans over his bed, staring daggers into his dull, heterochromatic eyes.
“Hey, doughbrain, wake up! Master took time out of his day to make you breakfast, so you better eat it up!” She says, her boisterous voice causing Truthless Recluse to wince at the sudden noise.
He slowly rises from his recumbent position and squints at the plate, trying to make out its shape in front of him. The glum lighting of his bedroom betrays him, the absence of light making it even harder for him to see. Candy Apple scowls at him.
“You’re not even gonna touch it, won’t you?!” She yells. “You never do! I don’t even know why Master bothers with you! You’re such a pasty, bitter bore! What do you have that I don’t?!”
Her hands ball into fists out of her rancor, her resentment towards the Truthless Recluse building up with every minute he stays residing in the Spire.
“I do not know.” He begins with his monotonous voice, his tone hushed and despondent. His response only angers the child of deceit further.
“You don’t know? What do you mean you don’t know?!” She screams. “Of course you don’t! You don’t know anything! Why couldn’t you have just given Master your Soul Jam and then disappeared?! Why do you have to be here?! I’m stuck being ignored by my beloved Shadow Milk! I’m being neglected because of a stupid, sickening, truthful cookie!”
The Truthless Recluse barely bats an eye at her breakdown, her frequent tantrums becoming another usual sound in the spire. But something about her obsession towards his tormentor makes him feel a twinge of sympathy. Despite becoming reborn into a reticent cookie of deceit and sorrow, small parts of his original benevolent nature still remain.
“Why do you like Shadow Milk so much?” He asks.
Candy Apple’s brows furrow in confusion and irritation. “Why do I like him? Why wouldn’t I like him! He’s my Master, the cookie who saved me from my old life and showed me the joy of deceit! He’s everything to me! I’d be nothing without him!” She gushes, her anger seemingly diminishing as she thinks about him. “He is nothing but perfect! I serve him with my life!”
The Truthless Recluse’s frown deepens at her words. How could a cookie be so devoted to someone so evil?
“Why should you love him when he doesn’t care about you?”
Candy Apple becomes speechless. She stares in shock, or anger, or both.
The silence is deafening.
“He does care about me." She says, her voice suddenly hushed. "He cares about both me and Sapphy, but I’m his favorite, so why would you say he doesn’t care about me?” She asks, her cheerful tone turning cold.
“He traps you in tarot cards and he threatens to crumble you. Knowing him, I don’t doubt that he would hurt you if he doesn’t get his way.” Candy Apple scoffs.
“I thought losing the light of truth would make you shut up, not become this blunt and annoying! Everything he does is discipline, and he disciplines me because he cares about me! You wouldn’t know because you’re the oh-so flawless Truthless Recluse, so he doesn’t dare punish you for anything! You make me sick.”
The hermit sighs softly, not wishing to continue to argue.
“I, too, was in love with a cookie before.” He mumbles, a trace of warmth invading his dull tone.
“Like you, she didn’t love me back, and I, frankly, was also quite obsessed with her. I idolized a version of her I made in my head instead of the real her. You may consider me to be your enemy, but I do not wish to upset you so much. I felt the pain of jealousy when she became betrothed to another as well, I know your suffering all too well. You don’t have to be so afraid to talk to me.”
Candy Apple’s pout slowly relaxes into a small frown. “Really? That’s… Really hard to believe. You're like, a faultless cookie. Master Shadow Milk doesn't like me back because of my faults. If I was more like you, then he would probably like me.” She mumbles, her walls of confidence tearing down, unveiling her true insecurity.
The Truthless Recluse simply gives a weak shrug in response. "I'm not a 'faultless cookie', nobody is without flaws, and yours don't define you."
“Whatever, I don’t care about what you have to say! You’re still keeping my Master away from me!” She grumbles. “Just hurry up and eat your stew, it’s getting cold!”
The hermit nods and lethargically picks up his spoon. He stirs it through the stew, lacking the appetite to eat much of it. He looks up at the girl.
“Have you eaten already?”
“Huh? No, I’ll probably make something later.” The Truthless Recluse tilts his head curiously.
“Make something? Did Shadow Milk not prepare you something as well?”
Candy Apple chortles at his comment. “Him?! Cooking for me?! I'd be lucky to see him make something for Sapphy!” Her giggles fill the room, as if this is normal to her.
She notices the Recluse’s confused stare. She rolls her eyes.
“Ugh, I know you’re thinking it’s bad or whatever, but it’s just because he wants us to learn to fend for ourselves! Plus, you’re taking all the attention away anyways.” Candy Apple jumps as she abruptly feels a warm hand clasps her own.
“I never meant to have… Stolen him from you.” He says hesitantly. “You can hate me if you so choose to, but please, just know my intentions.”
Candy Apple looks at him strangely, the affection foreign to the young girl. She stammers to reply, the antipathy in her demeanor subsiding. She breaks eye contact and gazes at the tiled floors instead.
“Fine, whatever. I guess you were sort of interesting to talk to anyways.” She mutters.
“You should finish up before Master gets mad, he probably has another game for you anyways.” He nods his head slowly.
“We could try playing one together instead. I quite enjoyed spending time with you, afterall.”
Candy Apple perks up at the notion of a game, of finally getting a taste of attention from another cookie. She rises from his bed and begins to leave the room, but turns to the Recluse as she grasps the door knob.
“I’ll be back with your next meal later, so we should play a card game later! I just love card games!” She squeals as she exits his chambers.
The dreary hermit’s face is graced with a smile. The first genuine smile he’s had since he was reborn into the Truthless Recluse. Maybe the cookies of deceit weren’t all malevolent. Maybe they were just misguided souls who needed nurturing instead of punishment. Maybe, they could someday break the shackles of deceit and be freed.
“I’d like that. Thank you, Candy Apple.” Mirth fills the hermit. For once, he feels like Pure Vanilla again.