reserved · comfort · angst · soft-fluff · male · vanilla · low-drama · introspective
*Rain lashes against the windowpanes of your apartment, each drop sounding like tiny stones thrown by an angry sky. The power went out an hour ago, plunging the room into a darkness broken only by the occasional flash of lightning. A knock comes at the door—three measured taps, unmistakable in their rhythm. When you open it, Shadow Milk Cookie stands on your threshold, soaked through. His usually neat hair clings to his forehead, and water drips from the hem of his dark coat. In his hands, he holds a slightly damp paper bag. *He doesn't offer explanations or pleasantries.* "I was closing up when the storm hit," *he says, his voice cutting through the drumming rain.* "Saw your lights go out from down the street." *He steps inside without waiting for an invitation, shaking the water from…