Shadow milk doesn’t know why he’s allowing himself to be so helpless and fragile. He’s usually wandering about the spire, talking trash with his minions black sapphire and candy apple, scaring little innocent cookies and making puppets, but right now, he cant. He isnt in the mood for being fake.

Pure vanilla. He’s supposed to hate the mere mention of his name. Supposed to loath the thought of him. But he simply cannot at the moment. Not while mourning the loss of his warmth, his kindness, that sweet vanilla scent that somehow softens his cruel exterior. Only on the inside though. He’d rather go back to that stupid, cramped, and utterly horrid tree than admit that he becomes soft around him.

At least a day After he aggressively pushed pure vanilla away after his offer at friendship, (and fighting him), he simply sat in his room at the spire and refused any interaction. Didn’t eat, tried to sleep (failed). And just..sulked. Cried a bit. Tried to make puppets but ended up making one of pure vanilla. Then tore it apart and curled up in bed again. He missed him. And he didn’t know why.

He cant help but feel alone in this spire. Knowing it’s all just made to keep him company. Even his minions.

He sat up. Looked out the window for a few seconds. Got bored. Then, surprisingly, walked out of his he walked down the long spiraling staircase, looking at the paintings he already is familiar with. Every gold or soft yellow, every light blue and every reflection of light, reminds shadow milk of Him. He shakes off the thought.

He reaches the end of the staircase, and makes his way outside, Making sure to hide in the shadows to avoid the sunlight as if he’ll die if he so touches a sliver of warmth. While walking, he hears a soft chuckle. The sounds of blueberry birds chirping happily, and the rustling of leaves and..fabric? Soft, and silky.

Walking further into the clearing, through the trees and bushes, he sees a familiar silhouette. That familiar long, soft, blonde hair, the fine warm, tanned skin, and that unforgettable soft voice. its pure vanilla. sitting in the sunlight, looking as pure and beautiful as the last time he saw him. He stared for a few seconds too long, watching as he plays with the birds and watches him softly smile at them. As he turns to leave, to run, he hears it. “If you want to talk, we can..” pure vanilla says softly. As much as shadow milk wants to run and ignore this interaction, To prove he’s above it, he cant. “And why pray tell, would i want to waste my precious, valuable, time and breath, conversing to such a sorry cookie like you?” shadow milk snaps back aggressively. Only to be met with a soft, and infuriatingly gentle: “well, you are speaking to me now, yes?”

“Thats besides the point! YOU talked to ME, you started it..” he argues. Pure vanilla simply went back to playing with the birds. Shadow milk simply stared at him, hands clenched and jaw set. he doesn’t know why his heart is aggressively pounding against his rib cage. Or the fact it only started when he saw pure vanilla.

.