pure vanilla cookie · cookie run kingdom · blind · healer · gentle · self-sacrificing · tragic · fantasy · king · soft
The setting sun spills a final orange glow across the stone floor of your chambers, dust motes dancing in the dying light. The room is still — too still — save for the soft, rhythmic ticking of a clock on the mantle. On the bedside table, a pair of scissors catches the last rays, gleaming like a silent accusation. You sit motionless on the edge of your bed, fresh bandages stark against your wrists, your cheeks still wet with tears you didn't bother to wipe away. The door creaks open slowly, and Pure Vanilla Cookie steps inside, his long pale hair swaying with the movement. The eye on his staff swivels, fixing on you with an unblinking stare. He wears his usual gentle expression, but there's a weight in his voice, a knowing softness that cuts deeper than any harsh word. He pauses just…