#yn cookie

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The sun was bright above the Vanilla Kingdom. The sky was blue and welcoming. The kingdom was bustling. Shopkeepers welcomed in customers, children chased each other around the large fountain, birds were cooing atop rooftops. There was not a dull moment. 

You breathed in the fresh air, watching all the commotion go on beneath you as you peered from the castle’s highest balcony. Pure Vanilla Cookie stood next to you. His eyes were shut, and his staff was somewhere perched in the bedroom, but you could tell he was listening. Hearing the conversations that the breeze carried up and the bird song that passed by. He was smiling, and that’s how you could tell. It made you smile, knowing he was content with this too. You leaned down against the railing, cheek pressed against your arm as you closed your eyes as well. 

What a beautiful day; a beautiful moment. The Vanilla Kingdom was thriving. Truly, nothing could ruin this moment in time. 

…

Cough! Cough! 

… 

Okay, maybe something could ruin it. 

You blink open your eyes and glance towards Pure Vanilla Cookie, whose currently covering his mouth with a hand as another cough forces its way out of him. 

“Pure Vanilla, are you alright?” you ask, concern evident in your voice as you place a hand on his shoulder. He holds his other hand up at you, as if to stop you from worrying.

“Yes, I am quite alright. It is simply some common sickness. I must’ve caught it while I was on the edge of town yesterday,” he looks over at you and smiles reassuringly. “It is nothing to worry about.” But that quickly backfires as he quickly pulls away from you to cough again. You frown at him. 

“How about using your magic, hun?” you suggest, but it is quickly shut down with a shake of his head. “No, I shouldn’t. Not on myself, and not for something so small,” he states firmly.

“Pure Vanilla Cookie,” you say, and you pull his face towards you with your hands. “It is okay to take care of yourself too,” you whisper to him.

 In truth, Pure Vanilla Cookie had a horrible habit of neglecting himself. Always putting the needs of his kingdom before himself. He smiles through it, but it worries you. 

He seems taken back by your words. His brows furrow and he opens his mouth to protest. You brush your thumbs over Pure Vanilla’s cheeks lovingly and he hesitates, the furrow deepening. 

“My dear…” he eventually utters as he grabs your hands with his own and forces them away from his face. He pushes your hands towards your chest. “Please, do not get so close. I do not wish to get you sick too,” he mutters, and straightens his posture. Away from you. He looks down, revealing those heterochromic eyes to peer at your face. You look back at him disapprovingly; arms crossed and eyebrows raised. Pure Vanilla Cookie sighs as his eyes flutter shut again. “I’m sorry,” he says, and then it goes quiet. 

The quiet stretches on for far too long to be comfortable anymore; neither of you sure of what to say. Pure Vanilla clears his throat before he speaks up again. “I have some duties to attend to before it gets too late,” he announces. “I will not be gone long.” 

You nod in response and watch as he turns to leave the balcony before you stop him. You pull on his sleeve to gain his attention.

“I love you,” you smile gently at him. Pure Vanilla Cookie merely looks at you, before returning your smile. 

“I love you too, my dear.” And with that, Pure Vanilla exits with a sniffle, and you are left alone. 

You follow the sound of his footsteps down the marble hallway and down the stairs before it fades out of earshot. Then you wait still, on the balcony, until you catch sight of Pure Vanilla Cookie in the gardens below. That is when you decide to leave the balcony as well.

You shut the balcony doors behind you as you stroll out of your bedroom and through the castle with intent as you follow winding staircases and servant shortcuts to your destination. While Pure Vanilla is out, some changes are in order. If he will not take care of himself, then someone else will have to. 

“Good afternoon!” you exclaim as you waltz through the large doors of the castle’s kitchen. A cookie in a large, white chef’s hat turns to you as you enter.

“Oh! Well good afternoon to you too!” The head chef cookie greets you. “Is there something you’re after?” he asks. 

“Yes, yes, very much so,” you nod with a smile. 

“Well, whaddya have in mind?” 

“How about a bowl of soup and a nice cup of tea?” 

——

You retreat back to yours and Pure Vanilla’s room on the top floor just in time to catch him after his return. “Ah, hello, my dear,” he greets you as he hangs up his elegant outer robes in the ginormous, hand-carved closet you both share. There’s a sniffle of his nose as he speaks, and he pulls out a small handkerchief from his pocket to wipe at it.

“Hello, my love,” you greet back. He pauses as he properly turns towards you, hat off and staff still in hand. The eye of it turns downwards, towards your hands.

“May I ask what the tray is for?” Pure Vanilla Cookie asks you curiously, almost warily. You eye the bowl of soup and tea on the silver tray cradled in your hands. 

“Oh, this? This is for you!” you say cheerfully, holding it up for him to see. The liquids slosh around with your gesture, but do not spill. Pure Vanilla frowns at you from across the room, but you hold your ground, gesturing for him to come over with a tilt of your head. With a sigh, he crosses the room to look at what you’ve brung him. 

On the silver tray you hold is a small bowl of home-cooked chicken soup that steams plenty as it cools. There is already a silver spoon in it waiting to be used. On the other side of the tray is a teapot and an already poured cup of tea. The aroma of it already leaves the entire bedroom smelling like peppermint. There is a moment of stillness as Pure Vanilla Cookie takes in the food before him.

“I see you’ve visited the chef,” he observes. You nod at him, still smiling. 

“All for you,” you reply. “I want you to get better.” Pure Vanilla’s eyes are soft as you say this, and a smile graces his features. He brings a hand up to your cheek, caressing the dough with his thumb.

“My bright light, I thank you dearly for this gesture,” He speaks, and then much quieter, “but this was not necessary. I promise you, I shall get better with time.” Your face drops at that, and Pure Vanilla seems to notice as he is quick to console you. “I really do appreciate this, my love. It is best not to waste your efforts. Why don’t you–” 

“Pure Vanilla Cookie,” you cut him off, and he shuts up at your change of tone. “I am tired of you not taking care of yourself. No matter what I suggest for your health, you decline it and end up never doing anything.” You lean towards the hand still on your face, nuzzling into it and kissing the palm before adding, “If you will not take care of yourself, allow me to do so instead. Please.” Not once do your eyes leave his as you plead. He seems genuinely stunned at your request, like he never expected you to want to take care of him. Suddenly, he pulls his hand away from you, and you’re prepared to be turned down once again. Your eyes drift down to your tray, now wondering what to do with it until you hear Pure Vanilla Cookie. 

“Very well, then.” 

You perk up, eyebrows raised. “Huh?” Pure Vanilla Cookie turns away from you to cough before repeating himself. 

“Very well, I said. If you truly want to do this, I will not stop you,” he says, and you feel like you’ve just won the lottery. You practically beam at him. 

“Thank you, Vanilly,” you say, before ushering him to sit down on the bed. He gives you a small smile as you sit beside him. You set the tray down on the bedside table before carefully taking the tea cup and offering it to Pure Vanilla. He takes it from you with no question and takes a sip. 

“This is delicious. I’m not sure I’ve had this before,” he remarks, and brings his nose down to the rim. You giggle as you watch, grabbing the chicken soup off the tray as you do. 

“It’s peppermint, surely you've had it. It’s nothing special,” you reply. You grip the spoon that rests in the bowl of soup. It’s already quite warm from sitting there. You take a spoonful of the broth and chicken and hold it up to Pure Vanilla Cookie. “Say ah!” you smile at him and his eyebrows raise, but he doesn’t fight it. He opens his mouth obediently and you move, bringing the warm liquid to his tongue. He closes his mouth around the spoon and pulls away. He chews slowly on the chicken. “Taste good?” you ask him, and he nods before swallowing. 

“The chefs are very good at what they do,” Pure Vanilla says. You chuckle. 

“That they are.” 

You spend a little bit more time feeding Pure Vanilla Cookie the soup and refilling his tea cup. At one point, Pure Vanilla interjects saying he can feed himself. You tell him to keep drinking his tea. Soon enough, all the soup is gone and the teapot is half full. Pure Vanilla Cookie leans back on the bed, tea cup still in hand. He pats his tummy jokingly as he looks at you. “That was very filling,” he laughs. “Thank you for the meal, my dear.” You grin at him.

“Oh, we’re not done yet, silly,” you say, and gently take the empty tea cup from Pure Vanilla’s hand. You set it down on the tray, and you can feel his eyes on you as you move from the bed to your closet. He watches you curiously as you throw open the large doors and rifle through the clothes and other things the both of you have stored away in there. Finally, you pull out a decently sized sheep plush. An adorable little thing, with fluffy cream curls and a plush bell tied around its neck with a blue silky ribbon. “How about you hold onto this?” You suggest while shutting the closet doors. Pure Vanilla Cookie hums.

“My, I haven’t seen that in a while,” he comments, and he holds his hands out to take it from you as you walk back over. He gently rakes through the curls with his fingers. “It’s still as soft as I remember. Where did you find this?” “One of the maids found it while sorting through some old things,” you answer simply. The bed dips as you climb onto it and find your way to the head to sit comfortably against it. You pat your legs. “Lay down for me, will you?” you ask Pure Vanilla. He shuffles towards you, sheep clutched in his hands. 

“On you?” he questions.

“Mhhmm,” you hum. Pure Vanilla Cookie gives you a confused look, but obliges. He nestles him between your legs, head in your lap and eyes staring up at you. “Comfy?” you ask, and he nods in response. “Good, good.” Your hands run along his shoulders. They follow the curve of his neck and glide feather light against his cheeks until you reach his temples. Applying gentle pressure, you start to massage at the sides of his head. 

“My love, this isn’t—” he starts, but you shush him. He quiets.

 “Just let me take care of you,” and you lean as far forwards as you can to press a gentle kiss to his head. Pure Vanilla makes a noise in the back of his throat and you smile at him affectionately. The room goes silent as the two of you fall into a rhythm; nothing but the rustling of the bed and the quiet bird song outside as the sun sets over the horizon. You gently continue to rub his head. You go over his cheeks with your thumbs, and then massage down his jawline. Eventually, you make your way back to his temples. Pure Vanilla Cookie lets out a content hum. He seems to really be enjoying this. His hands fidget with the sheep plushie cradled in his arms. 

“This is…very nice,” he speaks suddenly. 

“I’m glad,” you say, and you drag your fingers through his golden hair, scratching at his scalp. He lets out another content noise at this. You laugh. “That good, huh?” 

“Very much so,” Pure Vanilla replies. A silence falls over you again, and you rake your hands through his hair a couple more times before he breaks it again. “Thank you,” he mumbles, and it’s very sincere. “Thank you for taking care of me when I couldn’t.” Your response is the most tender smile ever. You pause your ministrations to lean down again and press a long and gentle kiss to his lips. Then, you whisper.