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Twas bumbfuck bitch ass 3’something o’clock in the morning. Sprout had, once again, came to Cosmo’s room to sleep, because he was a little pussy baby who couldn’t handle his own damn nightmares. However, when Cosmo heard the faint sound of running water in the other room, he noticed Sprout was not present beside him in the bed, nor the floor, nor the couch.
He stretched with a groan, letting out a sigh as his bare feet (rip socks) came in contact with the cold floor. Sprout, cranking the damn AC again, speaking of, he could hear the voice of the other man, in his horrible stage whisper, in said bathroom.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Sprout, what’cha doing..?”
The door swung open, and Sprout grabbed him by his, shirt..? Oh yeah, Sprout’s here, no hoodie (IE: STOLEN). The main, rocking back and forth on his feet, leaf tail curling, and uncurling with something along the lines of worry. The end was wilting again, though Cosmo wasn’t sure if he had the will to convince the other to trim it again, even if it was for his own good.
“Chsosmooooo…”
The other cried through his still-present, even after all this time, lisp. The toon sighed, grabbing the other by the arm and sitting him down on-top of the closed bathroom seat. Gently squeezing both his arms to try to calm the guy, which worked in a manner. As he reached up to instead, take Cosmo’s hands into his own.
“Explain.”
He simply said, sounding out the words, solidly, trying to make sure that, even if the other was panicking, he’d get through to him.
“Cossss.. I’m turning WHITE.”
“..’Scuse me.”
“Before everything, I was RED! That was it in the show, in the old center, but now i’m like-.. more of a desaturated pink, my melanin…”
“We’re toons Sprout.”
The main let out some type of noise, rocking the other by the shoulders as he let out odd and unhinged noises. Cosmo could only groan, picking up his friend by the waist, and hauling him to the best of his ability out of the bathroom. Setting him back down on the bed.
Sprout whined, covering his face with his hands as he kicked his legs childishly. Which was laid to rest as Cosmo tucked a weighted blanket over the other. To which he then, gently moved his hands, softly running his thumb over the other’s freckled cheek.
“For the record it doesn’t matter, you’re you, and that’s perfectly enough.. dear..”
“But my melaninnnn..”