Chapter Text
As the morning sun had arisen, its sunlight crept in through the spire's windows, pale and warm, brushing the room like a quiet promise. Slowly but surely, its light made its way to brighten up the entire chamber. In the middle of the chamber stood Shadow Milk Cookie, taking in the sun's glow but feeling none of its comfort. The light's warmth only fell onto his skin, unable to reach any deeper. No matter how light it was or how warm it was, a heaviness remains in his chest, lingering patiently.
Staring off into the nothingness, the light reminded him of the hope he once preached to the other cookies of his kingdom. Shadow Milk Cookie had learned better, though. Hope was a fragile thing, and once it cracked, it would cut deeper into a cookie than anything else. The sound of soft and light footsteps echoed behind him. Shadow Milk didn’t need to turn around to guess who was walking towards him; he already knew who it was.
The air felt different when Pure Vanilla Cookie entered a room in the spire. It became lighter, calmer, almost as if the spire calmed down in his presence. The sunlight shone down on the cookie, catching the warmth on his white robes and golden trim.
“You’re up early,” Pure Vanilla Cookie said softly.
Shadow Milk let out a soft, long breath and said, “Couldn’t sleep.”
Pure Vanilla approached Shadow Milk and stood beside him. Looking through the window along with Shadow Milk. “The morning is quite beautiful, isn’t it?” the cookie spoke.
Shadow Milk hummed in response, still staring off into space. He glanced over to Pure Vanilla, watching the light fall ever so beautifully onto his muti-colored eyes. I wonder how someone who could be so bright and hopeful could exist without faltering.
If he stays, Shadow Milk thought to himself, maybe the corruption won’t either.
The two cookies just stood there for a while, sharing the silence between them.
Shadow Milk decided to break the silence first. “Do you ever think about leaving me and the spire?”
Pure Vanilla turned his head towards him in surprise. Not by the question, but by the way it was asked by the other. It almost sounded like a careful, guarded question.
“Leaving?” His voice echoed throughout the room.
Shadow Milk curled his fingers into the cuffs of his sleeves, slightly biting his lip. He was carefully waiting for Pure Vanilla to tell him he was going to leave soon. The lights seemed to dim in the room, just slightly.
Pure Vanilla stepped in front of Shadow Milk now. “Why would I do that?” He spoke as he slightly tilted his head.
Shadow Milk chuckled under his breath. “Because everyone eventually leaves one day. Who am I to think that you’re any special or different from that?”
Pure Vanilla didn’t smile like he usually did when asked questions like these. He stepped closer to Shadow Milk, closing the space between the two cookies. He pulled Shadow Milk into a gentle embrace. The slight warmth that Shadow Milk was feeling originally didn’t come from the sun anymore.
“I know you are afraid, my bluebird.” He spoke softly into his chest. “But you don’t have to carry that fear alone.”
Shadow Milk turned his head, looking anywhere but at Pure Vanilla. “You say that now.”
“And I’ll say it tomorrow.” Pure Vanilla replied without hesitation. “And the day after that, and so on. I’ll continue to say it as long as you need to hear it.”
Shadow Milk's voice wavered. “What if things worsen..?” His voice drags off..
Pure Vanilla’s embrace tightens around Shadow Milk’s body.
“Then I’ll still be there for you.” He said gently. “I promise.”
Shadow Milk finally looked at Pure Vanilla. “You can’t just make promises like that.” He mutters.
Pure Vanilla tilts his face up to make eye contact with Shadow Milk. “I already have my bluebird.”
A promise. Those words settled deeply in Shadow Milk's chest, fragile and radiant all at once.
He wrapped himself around those words, never wanting to let go. Not considering what could happen if the promise was broken.
Shadow Milk held onto that promise way after Pure Vanilla had slipped away from the embrace. The spire now stood bathing in the sun's light, whole and untouched, its walls gleaming as though nothing could ruin them. The warmth lingered steadily and reassuringly on Shadow Milk, and for the first time in a long time, the weight in his chest eased. He told himself that this was enough. Promises, after all, are meant to last forever.