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The day began at a rather warm temperature, but after the hour-long commute, you find that it’s gotten blazing hot at a surprising speed. As you step out of your vehicle, bullets of sweet sweat immediately begin to trickle down your dough as you try to ignore them and unload your trunk. Setting up your general little area for the day and sitting in your foldable chair, you take a sip from a can of cola as your leg begins to bounce.
You’re only here for a brief moment before you’re already being beckoned to do something more about the violent heat. Downing the small can in a quick chug, you don’t bother tossing it in the nearby garbage can right away, leaving it in your cup holder as you rush towards the ocean. Your speed is not as fast as you would have liked, your feet burning up with every step on the white sand, but as they come into contact with the water, a light sigh of relief leaves your mouth.
The tide is much lower than it has been the previous two days. Something you always enjoyed about this beach was the lack of the waves on most days. Not particularly because you didn’t like them, per-se, but just because it wasn’t common to see. You find that it’s made walking around your current area much easier, but of course, it only gets so easy.
It’s rocky over here, very rocky, and even when you vigilantly watch your step in such a low tide, you’re still bound to step on a rough rock or two and hurt your feet. As this inevitably happens, you begin to fumble a little bit in your surprise, but catch your balance just fine as you stay standing still for another moment.
As you regain your composure, you happen to spy another cookie sitting on one of the rocks in the water. Well, it would be in the water had the water level been a little higher, but as it stands, what miniscule waves that exist can hardly reach his feet. He doesn’t seem to mind at all, gentle eyes peering out into the distance as if you were never there.
Of course, there’s nothing noteworthy in the distance, and he feels your presence eventually. When he turns his head, he’s a little startled at the sudden sight of another cookie, but his collected exterior returns with little issue.
“Good morning,” he speaks softly, but then tilts his head towards the sky. “Or is it noon by now?”
You ask him how long he’s been sitting here.
“My strong suit has never been the sight of time… but at least three hours, if I had to make a guess…?”
Without moving? Sitting on such a heavily barnacled rock? You bring this concern to him, and he gently shakes his head.
“I don’t mind… Even if I did, I’d find another place to sit.”
You begin to wonder what could possibly be out there that’s prompted this cookie to be this entertained doing nothing but gaze out for at least three hours. Unless whatever’s out there is that beautiful and you just don’t understand it, you can’t help but find it super strange.
Honestly, this cookie feels more than a bit strange as a whole. Clad entirely in blue, he appears akin to a knight— he even has a large sword held gently yet firmly in his hands with a blue crystal attached to the fuller. He wears a coral crown that appears to be cracking, and his legs, also that same coral, are just as weathered. A necklace of a silver pocket watch with the time stuck at 1:43 rests on his neck, and blue and white fins poke from his more-than-wet hair.
What business does a knight have at such a simple beach? You bring this inquiry to him, and he rubs his eye with a light yawn.
“This is rare for me…” Looking closer, you noticed that his eye had never fully adjusted to the light of the day. “I’m… What’s the word… More nocturnal than this…”
He smiles for the first time in the encounter. It’s an incredibly sweet, calm, and compassionate expression, one that you can’t draw your gaze away from even if you tried. Everything about here and him is nothing but sea, but at the sight of this action, it’s like a flame just began to lightly pick up and settle in your chest that fully getting in the water won’t put out.
When he opens his mouth again, you learn the reason.
“When I finish the day’s duties, I spend the night stargazing…”
His already quiet voice drops down a little more, but it’s unclear why.
“I… I enjoy thinking about it this way…” He began. “Every single star is like a cookie. Every single cookie I love so dearly and… and…”
He pauses, appearing to try and think of the words, which is definitely at least part of his halt, but his body language also appears to be holding back much stronger emotion than this.
“When I see them… it’s like I know all my efforts are paying off…”
You begin to ponder these words a little more, but before you can even consider responding, his voice appears to be a little embarrassed and his face slightly red.
“But, well, that’s just my little quirk…”
He does seem genuinely overjoyed to ramble about what he loves, so you presume the shame comes from him saying this on the spot to a complete stranger. Even in those embarrassed words, the compassion in his voice is unlike any you’ve heard from a single cookie before. It’s almost as though he actually has been fighting more than tooth and nail for his love of cookiekind.
You never thought about the stars that way, but maybe if you’re not super tired come tonight, you’ll take the time to gaze at them, too.
So, naturally, you reassure him that this is a beautiful way to look at things. He pauses, lost in thought, but then thanks you with the return of that small yet burning smile.
“You’ve been very understanding. I haven’t met someone as thoughtful as you in a while.”
You? Thoughtful? You consider denying this, but you step away from speaking this and decide that it’s probably for the best not to. As you come to this conclusion, you realize he was way more correct in this assumption than you could have imagined. Does he read every cookie like a book or is he just lucky?
Regardless, you don’t have anything more to say just yet, eyes falling upon the waves that have slightly picked up since you got here. At least you think they are. The stranger seems a lot more in tune with the water than you are, and he hasn’t brought up any rising tides, so maybe your eyes are playing tricks on you.
Even still, the water has a bit of a yellowish-brownish hue to it due to the amount of seagrass in the distance. However, the bright sky decorates the surface of the water with slight streaks of blue, glittering with light in a way you somehow never really noticed until now. It was rather lovely, and you almost instinctively turned your head to face the stranger and gauge his expression.
He’s content, and so are you.