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Pure Vanilla’s head hurt.
That wasn’t the right way to put it. His skull felt like it was about to split apart. The words on the page swam in his blurry vision. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying in vain to ease the pain. He knew that trying to study without his glasses was a bad idea, but buying a new pair was expensive, and his old ones were shattered beyond repair. He told his friends that he would be fine without them, but that was a bit difficult to prove when he kept running into walls and needed to hold something two inches away from his face to see it clearly. White Lily had suggested he use text-to-speech to study for the time being, but he argued that he always remembered stuff better if he read it. Although he was starting to seriously consider her idea as it took him several hours to read the few chapters he had for homework and even longer to comprehend them.
He sighed quietly and removed his headphones, placing them on top of the books spread out on the coffee table. He checked the time on his phone, cringing when he realized how late it was. Maybe he should go to bed.
Thump.
Pure Vanilla’s head shot up. He looked at the wall separating the living room and the kitchen and strained his ears. He heard mumbled cursing as that one cabinet that always squeaked was opened and shut. There was a quiet scuffle and more muttering.
Ah. Of course. He wasn’t even surprised.
Pure Vanilla stood up and quietly walked to the kitchen. If it was who he thought it was, then maybe he could talk to him for a bit, take a break from the fruitless studying. At the very least he could grab something for his headache.
He fumbled for the light switch, turning it on and squinting to see who was there.
He was correct.
Shadow Milk sat cross-legged on the kitchen counter, wearing the same pajamas he wore every night– sweatpants with a diamond design and a shirt decorated with multicoloured eyes. His long blue hair was pulled into a ponytail that was starting to fall out. He was holding an open jar of nutella in one hand and a spoon in the other, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Hi Nilly!” he greeted in a sing-song tone.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Pure Vanilla asked, making his way to the medicine cabinet. He didn’t ask how Shadow Milk had gotten into his apartment. He was pretty used to his neighbor breaking and entering at odd hours in the morning.
Despite his back being turned to the other man, he could sense Shadow Milk making a face at him. “No. You guys just have nutella that doesn’t taste like almonds and dirt.”
“I thought nutella was made from hazelnuts?” Pure Vanilla asked, glancing back at Shadow Milk.
Shadow Milk rolled his eyes, stabbing the spoon into the jar and bringing up a lump of the spread. “Who cares? If it’s not the real thing it tastes disgusting.”
“If Eternal Sugar’s organic food bothers you that much, then buy your own groceries.” Pure Vanilla muttered, turning back around to rummage through the anxiety meds and band-aids for the painkillers that were for some reason shoved in the back of the cabinet. He pulled a bottle to his face and squinted at it, trying to read the label.
“You know I don't have that kind of money.” Shadow Milk responded flippantly. Pure Vanilla turned around to find him digging his spoon in the jar. He glanced up, eyebrows raised. “Why are you awake?”
“I took a break from studying. It was getting hard to focus.” Pure Vanilla responded. He held up the bottle and pointed at the label. “This is ibuprofen, right?” His head was pounding too much for him to want to stare at it until his eyes would work.
Shadow Milk nodded, shoving the spoon in his mouth. “That’s not an excuse, Nilly.” He said around the mouthful of chocolate.
Pure Vanilla unscrewed the lid and shook out two pills. He tossed them in his mouth and swallowed. “Neither is nutella, and yet here you are.” He said, screwing the cap back onto the bottle.
Shadow Milk scooped up what can only be described as a mountain of the spread and stuck it in his mouth. “I beg to differ. Nutella is a great excuse to be awake at–” He paused and glanced at the microwave clock. “ –three twenty-four in the morning.”
Pure Vanilla snorted, placing the pills back in the cabinet. He walked over to his friend, hopping on the counter to sit next to him. Shadow Milk held out the jar as an offering but Pure Vanilla shook his head. Shadow Milk shrugged and continued to devour the spread.
“Where’re your glasses?” He asked with his mouth full.
“Golden Cheese broke them. On accident.” Pure Vanilla responded, quickly adding the clarification.
Shadow Milk raised an eyebrow. “How did that happen?”
Pure Vanilla sighed. “Twister.”
Shadow Milk sputtered. He stared at Pure Vanilla in disbelief, then started to laugh upon seeing his dead serious expression.
“What?” He wheezed.
“They fell off my face, and everyone said it would be cheating if I moved my hand to grab them, so I left them where they were and Golden Cheese didn’t see them…” He winced, remembering the crunch and the hush that had fallen over the room. “Both of the lenses were completely broken and the frame was too bent to salvage, so I just threw them away.”
Shadow Milk continued to laugh uncontrollably at this. Pure Vanilla closed his eyes, patiently waiting for him to calm down.
Shadow Milk wiped away a tear, trying to gather himself. “Wait, do you not have an extra pair or something?” he choked out.
Pure Vanilla shook his head. “No. I honestly never thought I would need them.”
Shadow Milk snorted. “So, what, are you just going to go about your business basically blind?”
“My vision isn’t that bad.” Pure Vanilla said, mildly affronted.
Shadow Milk placed a hand on his shoulder, sobering. “Pure Vanilla, I’ve worn your glasses for two seconds and got a headache. Your vision is horrendous.”
Pure Vanilla rolled his eyes, pushing Shadow Milk’s hand off, but couldn’t really argue against that. They fell into silence, Shadow Milk steadily making his way through the nutella, Pure Vanilla swinging his legs, waiting for the throbbing in his skull to fade. A few minutes later, Shadow Milk reached the end of the jar, scraping the bottom, trying to get every last bit. He huffed when it brought little results and set it next to him. He uncrossed his legs, bringing them over the edge of the counter to swing them in unison with Pure Vanilla’s.
They stayed like that for a while, a comfortable quiet that neither of them felt the need to break with awkward small-talk. Both of them disliked mindless pleasantries and forced conversation and they’d been friends long enough that long stretches where neither of them said anything were normal, nice even. When they did feel the need to talk, it was about something at least one of them deemed important.
Such as who in their friend group would win in an arm-wrestling tournament.
“Burning Spice, obviously.” Shadow Milk waved his hand. “That’s not even a question. I think I saw him lift a car once.”
Pure Vanilla shook his head. “Burning Spice gets frustrated too easily.”
“Yeah, and the rage fuels his strength!” Shadow Milk shifted his position on the counter to face Pure Vanilla directly, waving his arms empathetically. “Ergo, breaking his opponent's arm and winning!”
Pure Vanilla crossed his arms. “Dark Cacao would win, and you cannot convince me otherwise.”
“You’re only saying that because you’re friends with him.” Shadow Milk shot back skeptically. “He’s strong, but he’s not that strong, come on.”
“Fine then, I think Silent Salt.” Pure Vanilla concluded. “He’s about as strong as Burning Spice, but much more patient. Objections?”
Shadow Milk opened his mouth, then closed it, considering. “...You may have brought up a point I have not considered.” He frowned. “Fine then. Better question; who is the least likely to win?”
“You.” Pure Vanilla said without hesitation, smirking a little. It turned into a giggle when he saw Shadow Milk’s offended expression.
“Excuse me?” Shadow Milk gasped, placing a hand on his chest, dramatic as ever. Pure Vanilla started laughing.
“I’m sorry, you’re really not that strong!” Pure Vanilla gasped out. He covered his mouth in a desperate attempt to smother the noise
“I’m strong! I bet I could beat your scrawny ass in an arm-wrestling match!” Shadow Milk’s eyes lit up. “Actually, yeah! Let’s go, blondie!”
Pure Vanilla sniggered. “If you insist.”
The two jumped down and situated themselves across the counter from one another. They clasped hands and after a few accusations of cheating from both sides, started the countdown.
“Three, two, one, go!”
Pure Vanilla let Shadow Milk think it was an even match for about a full second before he slammed his hand against the table with almost concerning ease. Shadow Milk yelped in shock, then narrowed his eyes at a very smug Pure Vanilla.
“I wasn’t ready.” he grumbled.
“Yes you were!” Pure Vanilla laughed. “You did the countdown!”
Shadow Milk opened his mouth, probably to say some snarky retort, but was interrupted by a new voice.
“What are you doing here?!”
Shadow Milk and Pure Vanilla jumped and whipped their heads toward the doorway. Hollyberry and Dark Cacao stood there, both still in their pajamas and looking like they had just rolled out of bed. Hollyberry had her hands on her hips and Dark Cacao was holding his baseball bat, looking very annoyed at being there. Hollyberry pointed an accusatory finger at Pure Vanilla. “Did you bring him in?”
Pure Vanilla shook his head as a wide smile began to spread across Shadow Milk’s face.
“Y’know, you should really lock your windows at night!” He teased, releasing Pure Vanilla’s hand. He propped his chin on his palms, grinning at the roommates with glee. “Wouldn’t want intruders coming in, now would we?”
His antagonization clearly worked, because Dark Cacao drew himself up to his full height and adjusted his grip on the baseball bat. He marched over to Shadow Milk and pulled it back, aiming for his smirking face.
The ensuing scuffle passed in a blur. Dark Cacao swung the bat at Shadow Milk, swearing all the while as Shadow Milk dodged each attack with grace, laughing maniacally. Pure Vanilla tried to avoid the carnage as much as possible in the cramped space, although he did catch an elbow to the ribs that he missed in his hazy peripherie. He and Hollyberry scrambled around, attempting to save anything that was at risk of being damaged by the bat. They managed to rescue a few picture frames and a glass cup that was left by the sink, but he was too late for the vase full of White Lily’s flowers. Pure Vanilla winced as it shattered on the ground, spilling water everywhere.
Eventually, Shadow Milk made it to the window, contorting his body to fit in the small frame. He fell backward onto the fire escape and popped up a second later, cackling. He smiled and waved at Pure Vanilla.
“Thanks for the food!” He called, then disappeared from view. Dark Cacao leaned over the windowsill, making sure he was actually leaving. He grumbled and slammed it shut. He paused for a moment, then locked it, muttering under his breath. Pure Vanilla thought he heard something along the lines of blue raspberry motherfucker.
Pure Vanilla chucked, staring at the window fondly. He knew that the lock wouldn’t be keeping Shadow Milk from coming and going as he pleased in the middle of the night, but if it made his roommates feel better, he was happy to let them try. He was almost curious to see how Shadow Milk would get in without the window.
With Dark Cacao still preoccupied glaring at where Shadow Milk had been, Pure Vanilla tentatively started placing anything he had grabbed back in its rightful place. Hollyberry jumped in to help, picking up the pieces of the demolished vase and throwing them away. She grabbed a rag to clean up the water and glanced at Pure Vanilla.
“Hey, do you know what he meant about the food?” Her eyes rested on the counter where the empty jar still sat. She gasped, then snarled.
“That bastard ate all of my nutella!"