Elenania
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Summary
A look of confusion covered Shadow Milk’s face, stained with a tinge of hope. He listened to the sound of Black Sapphire and Candy Apple yelling in the background, trying to distract himself from the warmth of the sun shining in front of him.
He should have immediately said no. “Curse you,” he’d have said. “Liar.” But he didn’t, because Pure Vanilla’s warmth was akin to freezer burn, coming to a cookie that hadn’t felt anything warm, anything compassionate, in so, so long. Just once, maybe, he could accept a helpful hand. Just once, he could let Pure Vanilla in. What could he lose, if he didn’t have anything to begin with? So in a moment of weakness, he choked out:
“…. Friend?”
(on a short break. the curse got me.)