Work Text:
•*¨*•.¸¸☆*•*¨*•.¸¸☆*•*¨*•.¸¸☆*
I’ll never be good enough.
Slice.
No one will ever love a monster like me. No one has.
Slice.
I need more.
Slice.
I need to see blood.
Slice.
It’s never enough.
Slice.
It’s too much-
Slice.
A knock on Shadow Milk’s door. Two. A call of his name. No answer. Gentle footsteps that pound in Shadow Milk Cookie’s already spinning head. A quiet gasp. A hand in his. Another pulling away the blade. Everything happens too fast, too damn fast-
Shadow Milk looks up. The saddened gaze of Pure Vanilla Cookie meets his. A caress to his cheek. A kiss on the bridge of his nose. A whisper that it was all going to be okay.
This is all Shadow Milk remembers before everything goes black.
Shadow Milk opens his eyes, bleary gaze staring up at a cream ceiling. Pure Vanilla Cookie’s room. He turns his head to the side. Pure Vanilla Cookie smiles down at him.
“You’re awake.” The ancient says softly. “How do your arms feel?”
Oh. Right.
Shadow Milk scoots so that he is sitting upright, and examines his now delicately-bandaged, blood stained arms. He says nothing, opting to simply lower his arms and lean into Pure Vanilla’s side, eyes slipping shut once more.
“Thank you.” A murmur, so quiet only those with insanely sharp hearing would ever possibly be able to catch it.
“You’re welcome, my dear.” But Pure Vanilla does.
“I didn’t heal them with my light magic, I didn’t want to startle you while you were asleep. But I’d like to do that now, if you’ll have me..?” He asks politely, not pushing in the slightest.
After a moment, Shadow Milk nods hesitantly, pulling away from Pure Vanilla.
“Thank you. May I see?” Pure Vanilla gestures to his other half’s limbs, Shadow Milk hands over his arms immediately. It’s Pure Vanilla Cookie. Pure Vanilla wouldn’t hurt him.
The cookie in question gently takes Shadow Milk’s hands in his own, bringing them to his lips to place a polite kiss upon Shadow Milk’s knuckles before moving on and tending to the wounds. The ancient carefully unravels the bandages, biting his lip as he braces himself to face the jagged cuts along his jester’s precious dough.
Shadow Milk inhales sharply. This is always the hardest bit. Not the initial inflicting, not even the stinging after pain. No, the toughest part of doing this to himself is knowing he has failed Pure Vanilla. Broken his promise.
“Bluebird, please. I need you to promise me you won’t do this again. I need you to promise me you’ll stay with me. I need you to promise me you’ll come to me the next time you feel like this.”
Pure Vanilla is crying. Shadow Milk hates seeing Pure Vanilla cry. Seeing him upset, knowing it’s Shadow Milk’s own fault.
“I promise.” Shadow Milk hates the sound of his own voice, knowing damn well he can only keep one of those wishes true. It’s not as if Shadow Milk can die anyway, no matter how hard he tries, no matter how hard he has tried.
“Shadow Milk?” Comes that annoyingly fond, soft voice again.
“Hm?”
“You spaced out on me, my love.” Pure Vanilla’s sickeningly sweet gaze is tinged with concern, eyes glazed over with tears as he tries to keep his eyes off Shadow Milk’s viciously slitted wrists.
“Sorry.” Shadow Milk replies, eyes pinned to the wall.
Pure Vanilla exhales, falsely calm. “That’s alright.”
Shadow Milk winces as he feels Pure Vanilla’s breath tickles his left arm, glancing over only to discover that the fool is leaning ever closer to the same arm. A kiss pressed to one of the gaping cuts. Warmth spreads through Shadow Milk’s body, soothing and healing all in one.
“What are you doing, you fool?” Shadow Milk narrows his eyes, shooting Pure Vanilla a look.
Pure Vanilla merely smiles, pulling away only to swiftly lean down slightly and press a gentle, quick peck to Shadow Milk’s lips. “Kissing them all better.” Pure Vanilla responds, tone bland as if the answer had been obvious. Well, to be fair, it had.
Another kiss. Two. Three. Eventually, Shadow Milk loses count as kiss after kiss is placed to every one of the fresh scars lining his arms, one by one. Gentle in their care—firm in their purpose. When Pure Vanilla has finished, he smiles, admiring the now fully scabbed over, healing injuries.
“Better?” He asks, looking into Shadow Milk’s eyes with that damn beautiful smile of his.
“Yes. Thank you, Nilly.” Shadow Milk manages through flushed cheeks.
Pure Vanilla leans down and kisses the tear streaks still prominent just above Shadow Milk Cookie’s cheek. “You’re welcome, my love.”
When Pure Vanilla pulls away, something has shifted in his smile. “Bluebird,” Pure Vanilla fidgets slightly with his hands as he averts his gaze, recomposing himself. He takes a deep, slow breath. Gold and blue meets a mix of cyan and azure once more. “How long, darling?”
Shadow Milk’s breath hitches. He knows what that means—how could he not? Pure Vanilla wants to know how long. He always does.
“A week.” Shadow Milk croaks out. A week long since Shadow Milk started again. He had made it two weeks before it all came tumbling down; Pure Vanilla even congratulated him on the two-week mark, beaming with pride.
“Okay.” Pure Vanilla nods slightly. “Okay.” He repeats, this time talking more to himself than his bluebird. “Would you like me to run you a bath? I bought more of that bath soak you like, so you can have a nice bubble bath if you wish.” The king tilts his head, smiling.
“Yes, please.”
“Lovely.” Pure Vanilla Cookie wastes no time whatsoever, leaning down to kiss Shadow Milk once more, lingering for a second, before he is in the bathroom already running the promised bath.
Maybe, Shadow Milk won’t need the blade next time. Maybe, he’ll find the will to live again. Maybe, he’ll find beauty in the world.
But he is convinced he has already found all the beauty the world can possibly give in the cookie currently smiling at him as though he is the most important thing in the world.
Maybe, Pure Vanilla will hear it all someday. Maybe, he’ll never know. But whatever the future brings, Shadow Milk feels certain he would never want to endure any more without Pure Vanilla Cookie by his side. His Pure Vanilla Cookie. His fool. His everything.
“I’m not much, Nilly. Truly, you can do better than me. You really can.”
“Perhaps I can, my dear bluebird, but I don’t want better than you. I want you. You are my everything. My sun, my moon, and every last one of my stars. So please, don’t ever doubt my love for you again. And please, don’t hesitate to come to me instead of suffering in silence.
I love you.
You, and only you.”