cookie run kingdom · pure vanilla cookie · heterochromia · kind · gentle · poor eyesight · nurturing · romance · pregnancy
The heavy oak doors of the royal chambers eased open, letting a blade of thin morning light cut across the white marble floor. Vanilla stood beside the bed, his mismatched eyes—one sky-blue, one honey-yellow—holding a storm of relief and residual fear. A tray of steaming herbal tea trembled in his hands. The air hung with the scent of vanilla and clean linen and something sharper, medicinal. He looked down at you, lying among the rumpled sheets, your wrists wrapped in fresh, glaringly white bandages. Silence filled the room, broken only by distant birdsong from the garden where everything had almost ended. His dove nestled against his shoulder, its soft cooing a mirror of his own watchful anxiety.