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"Shadow Milk Cookie, you look.." Pure Vanilla clears his throat, tightening his grip on his staff. "Ahem, when was the last time you slept?"
"Sleep can wait." Shadow Milk replies vaguely, not even looking up from his work. "My research cannot."
"Hm." The healer hums noncommittally and steps further into the room, coming to stand next to Shadow Milk's desk and peer over his shoulder. Complex theoretical spell work fills several pages of note book paper. Floating around the desk are several large tomes on various magical topics, one of which Shadow Milk appears to be cross referencing with his own spell work. "Dark Enchantress Cookie is certainly putting you to work, I see?"
"Mhmm" The jester barely responds, only leaning closer to the tome and trying to turn away from the shepherd. Pure Vanilla frowns. He gently nudges a couple of the floating books away in order to get a better look at Shadow Milk's face, earning a glare from said cookie, before he quickly returns to the tome. Pure Vanilla has noticed signs of sleep deprivation in Shadow Milk before, but now the evidence is truly undeniable.
His heart twists with sympathy. He observes the darkened dough beneath his other half's eyecings, as well as the slight tinge of red in his lovely multi toned eyes. There are other signs too, the sluggish movements, the squinting at the text, as if his vision had become blurry throughout the night. Just how long has this cookie been working?
"How about a little nap?" He proposes mildly. "Sleep is important." Shadow Milk looks up from his work just to glare at the shepherd again.
"Nonsense. Sleep is for the weak! I don't even need it, really.." The jester trails off, already burying his head in that book again. Pure Vanilla’s frown deepens. He leans over the blueberry cookie, opening his eyecings and making eye contact just to be sure Shadow Milk can't escape the conversation.
"My friend, I find that extremely hard to believe." The healer's expression softens as he smiles at the slightly blurry jester beneath him. "All cookies need sleep." Something shifts in Shadow Milk's face at the use of the word 'friend' but it's gone the moment it appears.
Pure Vanilla's kindness is met with a book to the face. It doesn't hurt, it wasn’t thrown with much force, but it is vaguely annoying. The shepherd pulls away, bringing the book with him, and giving the blueberry cookie some room to breathe. He closes his eyes and angles his orchid to read the book's cover.
Unfortunately it seems to be written in some ancient language, one he's not familiar with. How fascinating! He sets it aside, for now.
"Frankly, I don't care what you choose to believe." The jester huffs, but finally turns away from his work. The cookie leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. "..What’re you even here for, Nilla?" The jester asks after a moment, a bit of his sleepiness slipping through and slurring his words. Pure Vanilla hums and reaches into his robes, pulling out a small pastry wrapped in cloth. The scent of baked bread and honey fills the room.
"I had a long day in the markets," he admits with a soft chuckle. "I figured you'd be long asleep, but I was going to leave you this for breakfast." He smiles, amused by the jester's visible surprise. "It's enchanted to stay warm, so it'll still taste fresh tomorrow!" He adds brightly. Pure Vanilla doesn't miss the grumbling sound in the quiet room, undeniably the sound of an empty stomach.
Shadow Milk grimaces, his face flushing a warm blue. The shepherd's smile softens. He holds the wrapped pastry out to the cookie in silent offering. The food is quickly snatched out of his hands. Shadow Milk floats a couple feet in the air, curling up around the pastry and purposely not looking at Pure Vanilla as he unwraps the snack. The healer huffs a slight laugh, and glances around the apparent study room.
"I've never been in this room before." He comments idly. It seems Shadow Milk doesn't enter this room often, either, because there's a thin layer of dust over almost everything but the desk itself. There's also several piles of all manner of things covered in old sheets.
Pure Vanilla glances at the distracted jester and quietly steps over to one of the piles. He carefully tugs the sheet up and off the various items. It seems there's several paintings beneath the cloth, as well as small statues, but he doesn't get a very good look, because as soon as he lifts the blanket, Shadow Milk has put himself between Pure Vanilla and the pile.
"Looking for something?" The jester asks sharply, but his intimidation is greatly diminished by the crumbs on his cheek.
"Yes," Pure Vanilla chuckles warmly and quickly reaches out to wrap the sheet around Shadow Milk's shoulders. "A blanket." He brushes the crumbs off the startled cookie's cheek. Turning away again, Pure Vanilla begins to gather Shadow Milk's meticulous work into neat piles.
"Excuse you?" Shadow Milk scoffs in offense, floating over and snatching his books away. "I'm not finished yet."
"Aren't you?" Pure Vanilla responds easily. Then, to illustrate his point, he feigns a yawn and watches with mild amusement as his bluebird tries and fails to contain his own yawn. The healer raises a hand to cup the blueberry cookie's cheek, but he's quickly swatted away. The jester crosses his arms and glares, holding his book close to his chest. Pure Vanilla sighs and shakes his head in soft exasperation. "Just.. An hour. Maybe two?" He pleads, fingers twitching with the urge to soothe again.
"Nillyyyy..." Shadow Milk groans and rolls his eyes.
"Just lie down for a bit, alright?" He grasps his staff with both hands, just to avoid the urge to touch his other half again. "I'm sure whatever you're working on can wait an hour." Shadow Milk's expression softens ever so slightly, the sleepiness seeping into the corners of his eyecings. Seeing an opening, Pure Vanilla reaches out and readjusts the sheet he'd draped around Shadow Milk, pulling the thin cloth more securely around his shoulders.
He lets his hand settle lightly atop the jester's shoulders, surprised when the cookie doesn't immediately snap at him for it. "One hour, just lie down?" He reiterates after a beat of silence.
"30 minutes." Shadow Milk replies archly, just to be difficult.
"Alright," the healer sighs, "30 minutes it is." He smiles warmly at his other half, amused when the cookie averts his eyes.
"Ugh- Stop looking at me like that!" Shadow Milk snaps suddenly, kicking at the shepherd's staff and sending his vision spinning. Oh the nausea.. He’s getting too old for this. It takes less than a second for Pure Vanilla to steady his orchid and see clearly again, but when he looks around the room, he finds that his other half has already left, presumably to go get some shut eye.
The healer hums thoughtfully, and idly twirls a strand of hair around his finger. He would've liked to talk with Shadow Milk more, but.. He wants the jester to sleep, and he should really be getting to bed himself. He turns around, about to summon a portal to leave, but something catches his eye.
The various papers and books that had been strewn across the desk have mysteriously disappeared. Pure Vanilla's brows furrow in suspicion. Why would Shadow Milk need those if he's going to lie down? The healer is quite certain he wouldn't need his research with him in order to sleep. He huffs in exasperation. His other half certainly knows how to test his patience, but Pure Vanilla is nothing if not stubborn.
It's not particularly hard to find Shadow Milk. All he has to do is tune into their shared connection. He takes a deep breath, and focuses his attention inwards, lightly placing his free hand atop his Soul Jam. The jem comes alive beneath his fingers, washing a calming warmth over him, and most importantly, gently tugging him in the direction of its other half. It feels like a little string tied around his finger, persistently nudging him towards where it wants to go. He sets off in that direction, letting his mind wander.
He often taps into their connection during his stressful days in the Vanilla Kingdom. It always fills him with such a sense of calm, to feel the thrumming magic of two souls bound by magic. Their bond seems to be even stronger this time, likely due to how much closer they are to each other. He wonders if Shadow Milk feels it too.
Shadow Milk probably resents being bound to someone he claims to hate.. Perhaps it's a bit selfish, but ever since the spire, Pure Vanilla has taken solace in the fact that now that his Soul Jam is irrevocably bound to his soul rather than Shadow Milk's, the Soul Jams cannot be combined into one stone again. Yet both jems still call to their other half. This means they will likely be forever bound to each other, at least to an extent.
Pure Vanilla will always have a way to find his bluebird, even if he doesn't always utilize that power, for the sake of Shadow Milk's privacy. Pure Vanilla will always be able to find another, immortal Soul, and considering the sheer amount of mortal cookies he's seen crumble merely from the endless march of time, having a constant immortal partner is like a dream come true. Truly one of his wildest fantasies. Therefore, he wants this relationship to be a positive one. Thankfully, they have all of their immortal lives to make that work.
Pure Vanilla follows the tug of his Soul Jam all the way to an unassuming door, where the pull is the strongest. He removes his hand from his Soul Jam, and lets their connection return to the back of his mind.
Pure Vanilla raises his hand to knock, but hesitates at the last second. If Shadow Milk really is trying to sleep, he doesn't particularly want to disturb him. He carefully creaks open the door, only to throw it open seconds later when he's met with exactly the scene he’d suspected.
The room is lit brightly with small orbs of magic. Books, papers, and quills float aimlessly in the space. In the center of it all, lying on his stomach and kicking his legs, is Shadow Milk Cookie. In his hands is a notebook where he appears to be writing again. The sheet Pure Vanilla had given him is still wrapped snugly around his shoulders.
Shadow Milk doesn't bother to act surprised or even embarrassed by Pure Vanilla's arrival. He glances up at the healer, apparently vaguely annoyed by his presence.
"I sensed you coming." The jester tells him, with a halfhearted glare at the Soul Jam of Truth.
"I figured you would." Pure Vanilla replies easily as he steps further into the room, shutting the door behind him. "I seem to remember asking you to get some rest."
"Mm, bzzt! wrong!" The jester cackles, and wipes away an imaginary tear. "You asked me to lie down " The cookie gestures towards himself, smug, laid flat atop the mattress. "I believe I am in compliance." Pure Vanilla sighs heavily, and tilts his head.
"You know very well that's not what I meant."
"Mm.. no idea what you're talking about." His other half twirls his hair around his finger, and smiles languidly at him, but there's an underlying mischief in his eyes.
"Right." Pure Vanilla dismisses curtly. He might've been more open to a battle of wits, had it not been so late into the night. He glances around the room, it seems cozy enough. Shadow Milk's eyebrows rise in silent question, a hint of genuine confusion slipping through his act.
With his mind made up, Pure Vanilla begins to gather the floating paper work and deposit it on a nearby desk. He doesn't bother to sort the papers into piles this time. Sleep is beginning to weigh on his mind. He just wants to lie down somewhere, but he's set his mind on getting his other half to bed too, and that means he won't give up easily.
Shadow Milk grins, catching on to what he believes is a new game. The blueberry cookie waves a hand and sends the papers soaring higher into the air, where Pure Vanilla can't possibly hope to reach them. The healer sends the jester a flat look, Shadow Milk snickers at his irritation. With one last glance at the floating paperwork, Pure Vanilla shrugs and moves on.
He politely chokes down his laughter when the jester makes a squawk of offense, it reminds him of the little bluebirds that often visit him in the garden. In an attempt to rile him up, Shadow Milk simply lets all the papers fall. Pure Vanilla barely gives the papers a second glance as they flutter to the floor around him. He truly doesn't care where they end up, as long as they're out of the way.
He then moves onto dismissing the glowing orbs that float around the room. They're very beautiful, but they're also very bright. When he prods at them with a bit of his own magic, they pop and disappear like tiny fireworks. He flicks away all but two of the orbs of light, leaving the room dimly lit, but still easy to navigate.
"You know I'm just going to make more when you leave, right?" Shadow Milk remarks from his place on the bed.
"I know." Pure Vanilla replies simply, as he walks over to the free side of the bed. The jester quirks a confused brow. "Which is why I won't be leaving." He pulls back the blankets and begins to shed some of his more inconvenient garments, such as his hat, broach and cloak. Normally he would change into night clothes, but the cloak he wears throughout the day is decently comfortable anyways.
"What!?" Shadow Milk snaps sharply, somewhere between bewildered and flustered, but clearly trying to look angry.
"I'm spending the night," the healer reiterates, only being the teeniest bit amused by Shadow Milk's affronted expression. "Go on, get under the covers." He rests his orchid staff against the bed frame, opening his real eyes and taking in the blurry colors of the room. Pure Vanilla sighs happily as he wriggles into the bed. He pulls the blankets up to his chin, and looks up at his other half expectantly.
"..You can't possibly be serious." Shadow Milk grits out reproachfully. Although Pure Vanilla can't make out the jester's expression from this distance, he can practically feel the cookie's affronted glare. The healer stifles a giggle.
"I assure you, I'm quite serious." He pats the spot next to him, as if coaxing a stubborn cat. "Come now. I know you're tired, and frankly, so am I." There's a long stretch of silence. Pure Vanilla calmly watches the swirling blurs of black and blue that is Shadow Milk. His hair, always moving with little to no rhyme or reason, is particularly fascinating to watch. Finally, the jester speaks.
"You're pushing it, Pure Vanilla Cookie." Shadow Milk tells him slowly. The healer sobers quickly, sitting up straight, and moving to clasp his hands in his lap.
"I know I am." He admits carefully, wringing his hands in his lap. "But I need you to take care of yourself." There's another long stretch of silence. Suddenly, the last of the glowing orbs that had still dimly lit the room, flicker out. The room is plunged into an unexpected darkness.
Pure Vanilla tenses, clasping his hands tightly in his lap, and trying to keep his breathing steady. Sometimes the stunts Shadow Milk pulls feel all too familiar. Too similar to the cruel tricks he played before Pure Vanilla's awakening. He must remind himself that things are different now. Shadow Milk does not hold the same power over him as he used to, because Pure Vanilla understands him now.
He relaxes a little when he feels the weight of another cookie cause the bed to dip, only to immediately tense up again when cold hands land lightly on his neck, sending a shiver up his spine.
"Aren't you scared?' Shadow Milk hisses darkly. His voice is full of venom. The healer can feel the beast’s lips brush his ear. "Aren't you scared to share a bed with a beast? A monster?" The blueberry cookie snaps, spitting the word out like a curse. Pure Vanilla draws in a deep, steadying breath.
"Hm, no. Not really." He answers honestly. The healer catches the hands on his neck between his own, slowly pulling them away to press a gentle kiss to them. "Your hands are so cold." He mutters absentmindedly. Said hands are immediately yanked away, unfortunately.
"Well- You should be!" Shadow Milk snaps angrily. Pure Vanilla blinks groggily, the late hour is beginning to wear on him.
"I should be.. what?"
"Scared! You should be scared!" The jester declares, his voice tinged with exasperation.
"Why? Are you going to hurt me?"
"Maybe," Shadow Milk scoffs. "You don't know. You don't know anything." The cookie decides bitterly.
"Don't I?" He reaches out blindly into the pitch black of the room. This time he doesn't even have any blurry colors to guide him, but he manages to find his jester anyways. He snags the cookie by the waist, and tugs him closer. The rest of Shadow Milk is just as cold as his hands are. Pure Vanilla intends to warm him up. "I know you're lashing out, because you're nervous. This feels new so you assume that it's bad..but I promise you, I’m going to make it good," he murmurs sleepily. He's no stranger to unpacking other cookies’ emotional baggage, but right now he just wants Shadow Milk to accept his affections already so they can both get some sleep.
Shadow Milk starts to object, but Pure Vanilla cuts him off. "Most importantly, I know you're tired." His jester finally falls silent. "So get under the covers, please?" Feeling particularly bold, the healer allows one of his hands to rub up and down along his other half's spine in a soothing motion. When Shadow Milk doesn't immediately object, he decides to push his luck even further by carefully tugging the cookie closer to himself.
Sharp cold hands suddenly land on his face and chest, firmly shoving him away. Pure Vanilla groans groggily, muttering his sleepy protests. The bed creaks as Shadow Milk's weight is lifted from it. The healer reaches out for his other half, but his fingers close around nothing. His bluebird must be fluttering away somewhere overhead.
"Come back." Pure Vanilla pouts. His tone is whiney and petulant, in stark contrast to his usual serenity.
"And why ever would I do that? My dear, silly silly Vannily?" Shadow Milk's voice is entirely too loud considering the time of night, as if he were talking to an audience instead of a single cookie. Seems he can't let go of his beloved performance, even in the dead of night. "You come into my spire! Banish me from my own study room! Steal my very bed right out from under me!?" The jester lets out a shrill laugh that pierces Pure Vanilla's ears like a knife.
The vanilla cookie blinks blearily into the darkness of the room. He's sure Shadow Milk is making all sorts of overdramatic gestures right about now. "Then you expect me, the illustrious, the infamous cookie of deceit to sleep with you in my own stolen bed!? Peh!" The blueberry cookie scoffs as if he's tasted something sour. "For shame Nilla! For shame!!" Shadow Milk chides. His voice is so very loud compared to the otherwise silent night.
"Mn.." Pure Vanilla lets his eyes slip shut as he heaves a deep sleepy sigh. "Hush now, my bluebird. It's so late, come rest." He murmurs, voice sweet and imploring like sticky honey. He holds out his arms for his other half, although he belatedly realizes that the cookie can't see the gesture due to the dark. "Come rest with me." He asks again, feeling around vaguely in the open air in front of him, in search of his jester. He hears another scoff, but this one sounds more disbelieving than disapproving.
"Blue-what? What did you just call me?" There's a small whoosh of air that stirs Pure Vanilla's hair. Next thing he knows, Shadow Milk's voice is directly in front of his face, much closer. The healer's searching hands finally brush lightly against cold dough, hidden behind stretchy fabric. "Oh me, oh my! Could it be?" The cookie gasps dramatically. "My dear Vanilly has finally gifted me with my very own nickname!?" Shadow Milk giggles, the sound harsh yet captivating. "Took ya long enough, sheeeesh! Can't you take a hint, cookie?"
"Hm? ..did I say that part out loud?" Pure Vanilla gasps softly, suddenly very grateful for the anonymity that the darkness of the room grants, because it means Shadow Milk can't see the furious flush on his cheeks. "My apologies, I fear the late hour is truly beginning to wear on my mind. Just a slip of the tongue, it won't happen again." He hurriedly assures the cookie, as he reaches out to wrap his arms around Shadow Milk's waist once more. After all, he doesn't want to lose his jester in the dark again.
"Mm, a slip of the tongue you say? And yet it rolled off so naturally!" The jester teases, all his previous animosity suddenly forgotten in his excitement. Cold hands come to lay against Pure Vanilla's shoulders, this time their touch is lighter, barely noticeable.
"...I suppose you're right. I've been thinking of you as my 'bluebird' for quite some time now," he admits softly, straining his eyes to see any hint of Shadow Milk's bright colors in the cozy darkness of the room.
"Ohoho!" His bluebird trills loudly, once again shattering any sleepy comfort that the quiet atmosphere had built. "I see~ Then do tell, my silliest Vanilly, why'd it take you so long to use it, eh?"
"Aha.." Pure Vanilla huffs lightly. "I suppose I just didn't want to offend." He confesses after a moment.
"Offend!?" Shadow Milk cries shrilly, sounding entirely affronted. "Well if avoiding offense was your goal, then you've done a terrible job!" The jester sighs dramatically. "All this time I've been waiting with bated breath! And you've been holding out on me!? For shame! How could you!?"
"Well," Pure Vanilla huffs lightly, amused by the jester's antics. "For one thing, it's not exactly a very poetic nickname.. It just sort of makes sense in my head, I suppose." He clears his throat awkwardly, once again very glad that Shadow Milk can't see his blushing cheeks in the dark of the room. "Not to mention, you often do or say things to me that you wouldn't want me to reciprocate-"
"Peh! Ridiculous. Like what?" Shadow Milk demands brazenly.
"Like.. when you drape yourself across my body while I'm working just to be a bother, or.. perhaps when you trail after me throughout the day, or when you insult me for seemingly no reason?" The healer chuckles quietly at the memories.
"Puh-leaze! You love it when I do all that stuff!" The jester states primly, offering no room for discussion. Of course, Pure Vanilla comments anyways.
"Yes, I do... For the most part..." He clears his throat, getting back on track. "However! my point still stands. You would try to tear me to shreds if I ever reciprocated some of the things I just mentioned. How was I to know that the nicknames were any different?"
"Eugh I hate it when you make sense." Shadow Milk grumbles lowly, prompting another bout of laughter from the vanilla cookie.
"Aha, really? But being right is my favorite!" He teases lightly, simultaneously trying to fight the droop in his eyelids. How long have they been talking by now? Surely his other half must be getting drowsy too? He opens his mouth to speak again, but the words barely leave his lips before he's interrupted.
"Hush!" Shadow Milk snaps, although there's very little bite behind his words. "Now you know. I won't be offended, sooo....!"
The healer is surprised but certainly not displeased when he feels the jester suddenly press his forehead against his own, noses brushing, fluffy white bangs tickling his face. Pure Vanilla can't help a small chuckle, hearing Shadow Milk's little snickers as well.
The cold hands on his shoulders trail up his neck, to cup the shepherd's face. Pure Vanilla shifts his own grip on his other half's waist, trailing his fingers vaguely up to his ribs, only to slowly return to his waist, and repeating the caressing motion in an absentminded show of comfort.
"Go on, say it again! Put that silly little nickname of yours to good use!" Shadow Milk asks insistently, more of a demand than a plea.
"Hmm," Pure Vanilla hums, feigning thoughtfulness as if he hadn't already made up his mind. "Perhaps I will.. If you get some proper rest." The gloomy darkness of the room obscures his vision, but Pure Vanilla doesn't need to see Shadow Milk's face to guess at his sudden change of mood. The jester's fingers suddenly digging into his cheeks are enough of a hint, it's also enough to make him wince.
Much to the healer's disappointment, the jester pulls away, withdrawing his hands from the shepherd's face and floating somewhere in front of him again. Pure Vanilla hesitantly releases his other half, letting his hands settle restlessly in his own lap.
"Yeeesh, Nilla.." Shadow Milk groans loudly. "Why are you being so pushy about this? Trying to get me to sleep so you can, what? Get some fleeting sense of fulfillment? Or.. My, my! Is it that you plan to imprison me while I'm vulnerable!?” The jester titters as if he found the idea amusing, but there's a certain strain behind his words that concerns the healer. "Finally ready to reveal your conniving plot and draw the curtains on this little act?"
"Of course not," Pure Vanilla promises earnestly. "You know very well that's not the type of cookie I am. Our friendship has been nothing but genuine on my part." He reaches out a hesitant hand, but he's met with empty air. "I only seek to help you, because I care about you." Pure Vanilla tells Shadow Milk insistently, even as sleepiness tugs at the edges of his mind. He stretches his hand out further into the darkness of the bedroom, but he still doesn't find his jester. "Please, come here, come rest." His kind words are met with nothing but silence.
Running out of options, Pure Vanilla resorts to his last option, possibly his most powerful bargaining chip at the moment. He sucks in a deep breath. "Oh bluebird~" he sings sweetly, immediately feeling the air stir slightly, proof that he's gotten the cookie's attention. "C'mon, I know you want to.." he spreads his arms out for the cookie, waiting patiently, and only doubling down on his sweet talking. "My lovely, chattering bluebi- oh!"
A soft 'oomph' leaves the healer's lips when his jester lands squarely on his chest. Pure Vanilla chuckles warmly at his other half's antics. His arms, just as warm as his voice, rise to return Shadow Milk's embrace. He rubs soothingly along the cookie's back, while his other hand slowly drags though his hair, it's as smooth as milk.
"Mm," Pure Vanilla hums sleepily, his voice barely more than a murmur. "I'm glad-"
"Say it again." Shadow Milk asks quietly, insistently. His breath is warm on Pure Vanilla's face, but even at such a close distance he can't make out any details due to the darkness of the room. He wonders if Shadow Milk's face is as flushed as his own. The healer sighs lightly.
"My Bluebird," he murmurs sleepily. His words earn him a breathless little giggle from the cookie in his arms. Pure Vanilla smiles a wide, drowsy smile, pleased to have made his other half happy, and even more pleased that he's gotten him into bed. Two pleasantly cold hands cup the shepherd's face.
"Again."
"Bluebird, my bluebird." Pure Vanilla repeats, although his mind is already slipping closer to sleep. He tightens his grip on his other half, and rolls over, taking Shadow Milk with him. The blueberry cookie makes a noise closer to a squeak than anything else. Those cold hands shift from Pure Vanilla's face to lay lightly atop his shoulders. The jester allows himself to be manhandled, laying there quietly as Pure Vanilla tugs a blanket over both of them, and tucks Shadow Milk closer. When Shadow Milk speaks again, his voice is a faint whisper against Pure Vanilla's collarbone.
"One more time?" His voice sounds uncharacteristically small. Pure Vanilla sighs into the cookie's hair, which smells of tart blueberry and fresh milk.
"As many times as you like, bluebird," he promises softly. Pure Vanilla feels a small smile against his dough, and knows that his words landed perfectly. After a long moment of blissful silence, the healer feels his eyes drooping again, and he knows he won't last much longer. "Good night.. bluebird.." he murmurs absently.
"I'm not sleeping" Shadow Milk hisses quietly.
"Mhmmn? Wha was that?" Pure Vanilla can barely keep his eyes open, much less hold a conversation.
"It's just.. a nap. Not even a nap. It’s more like.. a brief rest, during which I might briefly become unconscious."
"Mmmm.. Kay." The healer sighs happily, full of sleepy satisfaction. "G'night," he says again, in case the jester missed it last time. A frustrated sigh is the jester's first response, although it's quickly followed by a begrudging reply.
"..Goodnight." Shadow Milk grumbles. Pure Vanilla can't help his soft laughter and stupid smile. The cookie in his arms is restless, as if not used to being still, but the healer is nothing if not patient. He waits, half awake, listening to his other half's soft breathing, slowly evening out into something more relaxed. By the time Pure Vanilla slips into unconsciousness, he can already feel the jester stilling, and knows that Shadow Milk won't be too far behind him.