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“I got you, buddy!”
Sprout looked at his best friend with a toothy, confident grin, grabbing the boxes from his hands.
Cosmo stood there dumbfounded as he watched Sprout put away the boxes with ease, striding over to Sam for their next task. The act was minute, nothing out of the ordinary. It was just Sprout being the kind toon he was.
And, in part, Cosmo being the toon he was.
In the beginning, Sprout and Cosmo were designed to be best friends. And that they were. They complimented each other perfectly, as if they were two puzzle pieces that exactly lined up. Sprout was self-assured, caring, pragmatic, and even brash at times. Cosmo was shy, nervous, idealistic, naive. Though they seemed to be exact opposites, the two could always be found together, especially in the kitchen.
However, it was due to the large quantity of time the two spent together that Cosmo became aware of the stark differences between them. Sprout was a leader, Cosmo was a follower. Sprout knew what to do in difficult situations, Cosmo did not. Sprout would speak up for himself and others, Cosmo would not. Sprout could always complete tasks on his own, Cosmo could not.
Sprout was independent. Cosmo was not.
It wasn’t purposeful the way that Sprout took over for Cosmo. It was just in his wonderful, pleasant nature for him to immediately see that Cosmo was struggling, whether it was being too sensitive to come up with a comeback to Shrimpo or being too short to reach the cupboards. He, then, would step in and make sure the pastry was okay, worry written all over his face.
Cosmo would never blame Sprout. He loved Sprout very much. But, with each passing day, it became harder and harder to believe he could do anything himself, nor that anyone believed he could.
And maybe it was true.
“Cosmo!”
“Huh?” The roll shook himself out of a trance, looking up to the strawberry in front of him.
Sprout furrowed his brows worriedly. “Are you okay? Do you need a break?”
“No, Sprout, I’m fine,” the pastry assured with a placating smile. “Just thinking is all.” He picked up the cleaned dishes behind him, bending down to put them away. “What time is it? Boxten’s coming for his lesson in a few minutes…”
“Right, right,” the berry waved his hand dismissively as he sighed. “We’ve got about 5 minutes. What’s got you so spacey today, anyway?”
“Uh…” Cosmo scratched his cheek awkwardly. “Just trying to piece everything together, I guess. I’m still lost on the deal of the ichor and machines.”
“Yeah, me too. I wish Dandy would stop being such a coward and come out from hiding. We’ve gone without answers for, what, a few months now?” Sprout nodded. His gaze then softened, and he placed a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder. “But, hey, don’t spend too much time thinking about it. We’re all okay, and that’s what matters.”
“…Yeah.”
Boxten suddenly rushed in, an apron messily thrown on. “H-hey! Sorry I’m late!”
“No, no, you’re not late!” Cosmo reassured. “Here, let me fix that for you,” he giggled, stepping to tie the back of Boxten’s apron.
Sprout leaned against the counter, watching the two. He didn’t always have an active role in Boxten’s baking lessons, but he usually liked being present for anything that involved Cosmo.
“We were making shortbread today, right?” the music box asked, tilting his head curiously.
“Yup! I’ve already got all the ingredients out.” Cosmo motioned toward the stand mixer and baking supplies on the counter. “This recipe’s fairly easy. Only 5 ingredients.”
Boxten furrowed his brows nervously. “…But, do we have to use the mixer…?”
“Well… I thought it’d be a good recipe to try it with. Plus, it’ll be a lot better on your hands!” the pastry tittered. “Come, I’ll show you. First, we need butter and vanilla…”
With the mixer on low, the two boys watched as the ingredients mixed. It moved slowly, though it seemed the process was done in no time at all. They poured in the confectioner's sugar, and the same happened. Then, as they added the flour, the dough became thicker and the mixer began to struggle to beat it.
“…Is it supposed to do that?” Boxten asked nervously, putting a hand on his cheek.
Cosmo nodded, though he seemed unsure himself. “U-uhm, yeah! It’s just because it’s getting too heavy. If we turn up the speed…”
Cosmo clicked the slider to the number six. The mixer quickly picked up speed, beginning to wobble, some dough splashing out onto the two.
“A-ah! What do we do now?” Boxten quavered, beginning to panic.
“U-uh, don’t worry! We just need to, um…” Cosmo rattled his brain to come up with any ideas. He was bad at quick thinking. “H-hold the top down!” He swiftly put his hands on the mixer, and Boxten did the same. However, the two were a bit short, and the top still shook, flinging more dough. Cosmo’s stomach bubbled with anxiety, conflicted on what to do next.
Suddenly, a third pair of hands sat atop the mixer, holding down the head. With the three hands, the mixer was steady enough to finish beating the flour into the dough. They then turned the machine off, the dough ready to be shaped.
Boxten sighed in relief. “Does it always do that?”
Cosmo stared intensely at the mixer that sat idly on the counter. Why couldn’t he figure that out himself? He's a baker, shouldn’t he know how to use baking tools?
“Sometimes. Usually Cos and I both have to do it, or we end up fumbling with it,” the strawberry snickered. He then snapped his fingers in remembrance. “Oh, do you think it’s ’cuz of a loose screw? I remember Sam told us that if it shook too much then…”
How is he even supposed to teach Boxten if he doesn’t know how to do it himself? Should Cosmo even be a baker? What kind of stupid baker can’t use a stand mixer? Why couldn’t he hold it down without Sprout’s help?
If he weren’t so useless, then—
“Cosmo?”
“Huh?” Cosmo looked up at Boxten, who had one eyebrow raised at him.
“Are you, um, okay?”
“Oh! Yes, sorry.” Cosmo put up his hands apologetically. “I was just trying to remember how long shortbread cookies go in the oven for. For now, we can put plastic wrap around it and put it in the fridge…”
Boxten tilted his head. “How long?”
“Um…” Cosmo tapped his chin in thought. “An hour, maybe?”
“Oh, we can help Teagan while we wait…”
“Oh, right! I almost forgot!” Cosmo smiled thankfully. “I still have to get all the teacups out. Maybe you guys can make sandwiches?”
“Yeah! That’ll be easy,” Sprout grinned confidently. “I can put them together if you cut the crusts, Boxten?”
“Sure!” Boxten nodded. “Sounds easy enough.”
The three prepared the items for Teagan’s tea party, Cosmo trying not to let his mind wander back to his stupor. He was just getting in his own head, is all. The small sandwiches were nicely placed onto fine china plates. Then, each boy carried a plate or two, bringing them to the teacup’s room.
As they made their way down the hallway, everything was going fine. That was until Cosmo got his foot caught on a lump on the rug.
His head slammed onto the floor, the plate flying from his hands, crashing and scattering glass and sandwich halves everywhere, along with mayonnaise smeared on the rug. The roll gasped loudly at the sight, but, before he could scramble to clean up, the other two had jumped to his rescue.
“Oh no, Cosmo!” Boxten cried worriedly.
“Cosmo! Are you alright?” Sprout fretted, putting down his plate to inspect the boy’s wellbeing.
“I-I’m fine!” the pastry stammered, waving his hands dismissively. “Go bring those to Teagan. I can clean this up.”
“Hold on, let’s get this cleaned up first,” Sprout insisted, standing up. “Boxten, do you mind delivering these? I can go grab the broom from the kitchen…”
“Sure, I-”
“I can do it myself!” Cosmo suddenly barked, glaring at them. “Just go deliver the sandwiches.”
Sprout and Boxten glanced at each other worriedly before picking up their plates and heading down the hallway. The pastry’s stomach twisted in shame, embarrassed to have spoken to his friends like that. With a sigh, Cosmo scooted toward the broken plate, picking up the glass shards and sandwiches with his hands, placing them inside his sweatshirt pocket. He continued this process until he grabbed a piece of glass a little too tightly, it jabbing into the palm of his hand.
As Cosmo hissed, he shook his hand in pain, putting the glass down to inspect it. Sure enough, he had begun to bleed ichor from his palm, dripping onto the floor. He stared at it as if he were trying to burn the wound with his gaze, eyes watering in frustration.
“Hey, I told you to hold on until I got the broom…”
A soft voice came from behind Cosmo, and, as if he sensed his pain, Sprout appeared beside Cosmo, taking his hand. “You shouldn’t touch glass with your bare hands. You’re bleeding pretty bad… Are you okay? Do you want me to go grab the bandaids first?”
“N-no,” the pastry muttered, pulling his hand back.
“Okay. Wait right there. I’ll sweep the rest of it up.”
Cosmo watched as the strawberry cleaned the floor with ease. In fact, he did so much quicker than Cosmo could- Cosmo hadn’t even finished in the time it took the berry to give the sandwiches to Teagan and grab the broom and dustpan. The boy then held the dustpan carefully to not spill it, smiling gently at the cake. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”
Cosmo sadly followed the berry back to the kitchen, both dumping the contents into the trash can. Cosmo then stood there as Sprout grabbed gauze from the closet, hurrying back to Cosmo. The berry then swiftly grabbed onto the boy’s hand, washing it with hydrogen peroxide. The pastry hissed as Sprout finished wrapping the wound with gauze.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” the berry murmured worriedly. “I can tell Boxten we can finish the cookies tomorrow. Or I can do it with him while you rest…”
“What, you don’t think I can do it?”
Both boys’ eyes widened at the shock of the pastry’s words.
There was a bitter taste in Cosmo’s mouth. Why did he say that? What’s wrong with him?
“I… What?” Sprout squinted at him, completely confounded. “When did I say that? What are you talking about?”
“Nevermind,” the boy grumbled, walking away from the other.
“What? Cosmo!” the berry cried worriedly. “Talk to me!”
“Nevermind!” the pastry boomed, storming off down the hall.
As he felt tears brimming, Cosmo balled his fists, his face tightening in frustration.
He couldn’t even talk to Sprout without help. Why can’t he do anything himself? Why was he so useless all the time?
Cosmo sniffled, wiping his eyes. He needed to go somewhere Sprout wouldn’t look for him. He obviously couldn’t go back to the kitchen. Either of their rooms were out of the question as well.
He could only think of one other place to go.
The elevator doors opened, the putrid, moldy smell of the basement immediately hitting his nostrils. Cosmo stepped onto the hard, cold floor, the lights flickering off and the elevator door slamming shut.
Cosmo took a deep, nervous breath, holding himself tightly. Not only did he hate the dark, but he hated being down here by himself. He had no idea what could happen down here.
His footsteps echoed throughout the room, the pastry anxiously eyeing around the room for anything sinister. He almost jumped out of his skin when he suddenly approached a machine.
He gulped shakily. He could do this, right? He’s done it before.
Cosmo grabbed onto the wheel with trembling hands. It was just like whisking the batter, right? He began to spin the wheel.
Could Cosmo even whisk batter on his own? He certainly couldn’t use a stand mixer by himself.
Ichor poured into the machine.
Cosmo couldn’t even clean his own mess by himself. Sprout always had to come to his rescue.
A ding noise came from the system.
Cosmo was clumsy. He was gullible. He was stupid, and he was naive. He was nervous, and meek, and submissive, and useless—
Another ding came from the machine.
Oh! The light stop turned green, signaling he finished it. Maybe he could do this. All he had to do was complete the machines!
He quietly stepped across the room, looking for another machine. There was one close by, so he began spinning the wheel. Just like whisking the batter!
Ding. Two done! Cosmo was getting good at this. Maybe he could he be independent?
He skipped to the next machine, grabbing onto the wheel. He happily hummed as he spun it, focusing all of his attention into each skill check until he completeding it perfectly. He then approached the fourth machine, the final one on the floor.
He grasped the wheel, beginning to rotate it. Cosmo wondered if maybe he was getting in his own head. It seemed like he could do this on his own! Maybe he could even do more, venture down further to get supplies for everyone? He could prove how independent he really could be. Maybe the others, or even Dandy, would recognize his efforts!
Suddenly, a loud beep emanated from the machine. He had missed a skill check.
Before he had a moment to dwell on it, a piercing screech came from beside him, red eyes staring intensely at him. A large hand clawed at his back, the roll yelping out in pain as he tried to. He quickly scrambled across the room as he heard loud footsteps, glowing red eyes trailing behind as he looked back over his shoulder. Cosmo clambered out of its line of sight, hiding behind a wall of crates. He held his breath until he heard the footsteps stop, a hiss coming from whatever being was there. He then could hear it walking away, and he let out his breath.
Ow. His back really hurt.
Cosmo closed his eyes.
Here he was, on a floor by himself, unable to do a machine without getting caught by a twisted.
Everything burned. His back, his eyes, his heart.
He could die here. All because he can’t do anything independently.
Maybe he was made to be like this. Maybe he really couldn’t do anything by himself.
He deserved to lay here and rot. Reflect on his last moments of how he was never going to be strong enough. Independent enough.
Suddenly, running footsteps could be heard. They grew close. Really close. Cosmo’s eyes snapped open. Was this it? Did the twisted find him?
A figure stood at the small entrance of his hiding spot.
This was it. Cosmo was about to die.
He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to watch his own sad, inevitable demise. Something grabbed onto his wrist tightly, and Cosmo squeaked in fear. His heart felt like it was about to pound out of his chest and his stomach was about to explode.
Then he was pulled into a tight embrace.
“Cosmo,” they whispered, voice quivering. They nestled their head into the crook of Cosmo’s neck. “Cosmo, Cosmo, Cosmo.”
Cosmo gasped quietly, hugging the toon gratefully. “Sprout!”
“What were you thinking?” the strawberry mumbled, hands gripping the pastry’s sweatshirt. “Coming down here by yourself?”
“Sprout…” Cosmo pushed the berry to look at him, cupping his cheeks. A scar sat on his lip, blood dripping onto his chin. The cake let his thumb graze tenderly across the wound, wiping the ichor. “Your face. What happened?”
“I-I ran into a wall and bit my lip too hard,” the berry confessed, causing the pastry to titter. He ran a hand through his leaves, trying to assuage his nerves. “Cosmo, why are you here? Please, talk to me.”
“I-I just-” The boy covered his mouth in panic as he heard a grumbling growl on the other side of the crates. Sprout held him close, wearily eyeing the opening. “Sorry,” the pastry whispered almost indistinctively.
“Cosmo,” Sprout murmured gently, bringing his face close to the other’s. “I’ve been worried like crazy about you lately.”
“Sprout, really, I’m fine. I just-”
“Cosmo.” The strawberry looked at him with desperation. “Y-you just left down the elevator without a word. No one knew you had gone. Y-you could’ve been dead, and no one would know where you were or what happened to you.” His eyes watered, the pleading look growing stronger. “Please, I need to know you aren’t going to leave me. Whatever’s going on, I can help. I-I can make your favorite snacks, or we can lay in bed all day, or I can get Ginger, or I can leave you alone, or whatever you need, I-I just… please.”
Cosmo stared at him, his eyes beginning to water as well. He choked on a sob, trying not to make noise. “I’m sorry,” he quavered, leaning into Sprout.
Sprout held him close, and Cosmo nestled into him.
“I just want to be independent,” the boy whimpered, hands clutching his friend’s scarf. “I want to be able to do the things other toons can.”
“…Why?”
“Everyone is so strong with everything going on, and I want to be able to help. They deserve it! But I can’t do anything. I-I’m just stupid, a-and-”
“Cosmo,” the berry quavered, holding him tighter. “Who is telling you this?”
“Everyone else can be independent, doing things without help. Rodger takes care of Toodles by himself, and Tisha cleans without help, and you—”
“I’m not independent.”
“What?” Cosmo lifted his head, giving the boy a flabbergasted look. “Of course you are! You’re always so sure of yourself, and you stand up for what is right, and you help others when they need it, and you’re a leader and you’re tall and you’re strong and-”
Sprout let out a soft chuckle, in which Cosmo paused to furrow his brows at him. “It’s funny that you think I’m the independent one, but I think everyone else thinks the opposite. And they’re probably right.”
“…What?”
“I don’t want to be independent.”
Cosmo blinked at him in confusion. What?
Sprout leaned in closer, nestling himself into Cosmo, smelling his skin. “I want to be connected to you. Like this. All of the time.”
“…But, that doesn’t mean-”
“I want to be where you are always. See what you’re doing, know what you’re thinking. I want to celebrate with you when you succeed, and hold you when you cry. E-even if you want to be independent, I don’t want to be apart from you. I’m only happy if you’re happy. I don’t mean to be overbearing, I just…” Sprout took a deep breath to steady himself. “I need you. Always.”
After a still moment, Cosmo let a hand tenderly grasp the berry’s leaves. He didn’t speak, and just let himself relish in the warm embrace.
“I know you’re an adult, and you can make your own decisions,” the berry muttered. “But you’re allowed to lean on people. You don’t have to be independent.”
“I just… wish I could do things myself sometimes,” Cosmo whispered. “Some days it feels like people don’t trust that I can.”
“I do,” the berry muttered.
“Do you?”
Sprout sat up to look the pastry in the eye. “I trust you more than anyone, Cosmo.”
“Then… Do you trust me to help us get out of here?”
“What do you mean? Will you get hurt?” Sprout looked at him nervously, but he softened at the cake’s stern expression. “Sorry. Okay.”
With a grunt, Cosmo tried to pull himself to a standing position. Sprout’s eyebrows immediately lowered. “Cosmo. You’re hurt.”
“I-I’m okay. Just a scratch is all…”
Sprout swiftly stood up, inspecting the pastry, looking at his back. “Cosmo, your back. You’re bleeding. We need to get you back. Cosmo, why didn’t you say anything, please, let me help you-”
Cosmo furrowed his brows at the strawberry. “You can do the machine, and I’ll watch out for the twisted. Team effort.”
The tall boy took a shaky breath. “Why don’t I-” He paused. “…Okay.”
Sprout slowly waltzed to find a machine while Cosmo scanned the room. If Cosmo could just find where the monster was…
There. He spotted it by the elevator, pacing back and forth. What could he do to keep it away from Sprout?
Cosmo curiously stood on his tiptoes, checking inside a crate. A variety of candies sat inside. He tilted his head in thought. Did twisteds have a sense of smell? Well, he was about to find out.
The boy tore open a package of gumballs, watching as the being immediately turned its head at the sound. It stood there smelling, until it decided to turn around and find the smell.
After a quick moment of consideration, Cosmo tossed a handful of gumballs that bounced across the floor, clacking along the concrete. He then hustled across the room to drop some more. He continued this process, leading the twisted away from the elevator with a trail of gumballs.
He watched as the Twisted stared and growled at each spot of candies, clumsily stomping on them as it followed the trail. Cosmo tittered at how silly it looked. He continued to step back, leaving more gumballs.
It wasn’t until he reached into an empty box that the pastry realized he probably should’ve grabbed more than one package of gumballs.
The twisted’s red eyes suddenly shot up, meeting Cosmo’s. Cosmo gulped, looking around for Sprout. Luckily, the elevator door was just opening. However, he needed to keep it away from the elevator until Sprout got back.
As soon as the monster began to sprint, he ran. He ran to the opposite side of the room, scrambling around metal shelves. He dropped boxes on the ground to distract the twisted, only to then slip one of the papers that had fallen out.
The twisted approached quickly. Cosmo attempted to get up, only for his injury to cause him to seethe in pain. He couldn’t move quick enough. Was he really about to—
Suddenly, a loud horn blared beside them. “Yoo-hoo! Over here!”
The twisted’s eyes darted to Sprout, immediately beginning to chase him.
Cosmo blinked, but he realized he didn’t have time to waste. He clambered to his feet, hustling toward the open door. He looked up to see Sprout running toward him, so he pressed the button to close the door. As the door was shutting, Sprout slid inside, leaving the twisted by its lonesome.
The two stood there with heavy pants, not moving. Then, suddenly, Sprout climbed to his feet, grabbing onto the pastry’s hand. “I-I’m sorry, I did trust you, I just saw you fall and I found the airhorn and-”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Cosmo smiled, gently cupping the berry’s cheek. “We’re a team, remember?”
Sprout took a deep breath, running a hand through his leaves. “Yeah,” he panted, gulping as he nodded. “Yeah.” He leaned into the roll, holding him close and nuzzling into his shoulder. “Man, after I bandage you up, I’m going to make you the best dinner you’ve ever had in your life. Then I’m going to trap you in my room forever.”
Cosmo giggled. “Sprout!”
“Okay, maybe not forever. You’ll have to be able to leave sometimes,” he confessed. “But I don’t ever want to let you go.” He paused, lifting his head slightly to look at the cake roll. “…If that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah,” Cosmo chuckled, nodding. “There’s no one I’d rather be ‘not independent’ with.”
Sprout grinned, nestling into the pastry once more.
Cosmo laid on his back and stared at the ceiling, listening to the pounding against the wall. Half of his body was covered by Sprout, who was sleeping soundly, snuggled with his arms around the pastry and his head atop of his. In fact, Cosmo felt quite smothered, but he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t enjoy cuddling with Sprout like this from time to time.
The rain was loud tonight. Cosmo usually found the rain peaceful, but it worried him when it pinged against the building as hard as it was. He nestled a little closer to Sprout, nervous about the state of the building.
Suddenly, a loud boom startled the pastry, causing him to cling to the other boy. He grimaced slightly, burrowing his face into the berry’s shoulder.
“Mmm…” the strawberry stirred, holding the cake a little tighter.
“O-oh, shhh, Sprout, sorry. Go back to sleep,” Cosmo soothingly whispered, gently rubbing his back.
The berry smacked his lips, nestling against the boy. “Did the lightning scare you?”
“Umm…” Cosmo shifted, rubbing his eyes. “W-well it’s just thunder, right? Lightning doesn’t make noise…”
Sprout slowly sat up, stretching his arms up, his shoulders cracking in the process. He let out a yawn before mumbling, “Do you wanna bake somethin’? It’ll get your mind off it.”
“W-well I’m not scared, it’s just…” Cosmo fidgeted with his hands anxiously. “I get nervous when I can’t see it, y’know? Like lightning could strike the trees outside, or the building could be flooding, but we’d never know since we can’t see what outside looks like.”
Sprout tapped his chin in thought. “C’mon, I have an idea.”
The pastry raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t question it. He simply followed his best friend to the elevator, letting himself be led to the Gardenview center.
They approached the tree, and Sprout immediately began climbing. Cosmo became even more confused, but let Sprout pull him into the branches anyway. They sat on one of the thickest branches, huddled up close to sit together. Then, Sprout pointed to the singular window in Gardenview that sat above the tree.
“The rain looks heavy,” he whispered. “Maybe we’ll be able to see the thunder and lightning.”
Cosmo scooted to sit somehow even closer to the boy, their bodies pressed up against one another, warmth emanating between them. Cosmo leaned the back of his head into Sprout and looked up. Indeed, the fat raindrops pelted against the window, leaving droplets of water on the glass. It was somewhat peaceful, watching the rain with Sprout.
A flash of lightning lit up the sky, causing the pastry to gasp. Then he began to count softly, “1, 2, 3, 4…”
Sprout looked at him curiously. “Why are you counting?”
“5, 6, 7…” A loud boom of thunder struck. Cosmo hummed. “Umm… I once heard a parent telling kids that if you count between a flash of lightning and then the next thunder clap, it’ll tell you how far away the lightning struck.”
“…so it’s 7 seconds away?”
“Uhhh… I dunno. You were supposed to do something with the numbers, but I forget. I think 5 seconds means it’s a mile away?” the baker shrugged, looking back toward the sky.
The two sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of the storm. The wind blew sticks and debris threw the air, the rain pattered on the roof, the thunder cracked reverberantly. It almost seemed as if something would smash into the glass window and crack it at any second. Though the weather was extremely harsh, and quite terrifying, Cosmo felt soothed by the warm embrace of his best friend.
Maybe it was nice sometimes, to be a team. To not be independent all the time.
“I know I can be a lot sometimes,” Sprout suddenly murmured, his eyes still at the ceiling. His hands gently squeezed at the pastry’s plush arms. “But I want you to know that I don’t think you aren’t capable. I just… it’s really important to me that you’re safe and happy.”
“I know,” Cosmo whispered back.
“I want to help you in any way that I can. But if you need me to back off… I will. I understand not wanting to be helped all the time.”
After a brief pause, Cosmo nodded slowly. “It’s okay. I… realize we’re a little different where we’re always up in each other’s business,” he chuckled softly, pressing his thumbs into Sprout’s thighs. “It’s just the way we are. And I… don’t mind. I like us being as close as we are. We’re a team.”
Sprout frowned slightly. “But I really don’t want happened earlier to happen again. I need to know you’re going to be okay.”
Cosmo reached to intertwine their fingers, a small, yet meaningful, expression of his love. He was silent for a moment, until he spoke up in a gentle voice. “Can you… promise me something?”
Sprout nuzzled against the back of the pastry’s head. “Anything.”
“Promise me that we can share the burden. That whatever’s going on… you won’t try to do it all yourself.”
Sprout sat still for a moment. It was tense, and Cosmo was almost worried he said something wrong. Suddenly, he tenderly clasped the roll’s fingers, and Cosmo swore he could feel his lips pressing against his head. “Okay. Promise.”
Cosmo’s heart swelled happily. He looked up to the window, and held their intertwined hands close to his chest.
Maybe it was okay to not be independent all the time.