⠀
⠀⠀(It’s far from something he
⠀⠀could admit on his own,
⠀⠀however.)

⠀
⠀⠀(One hand moves to clasp
⠀⠀Shadow Milk Cookie’s in its
⠀⠀own. He takes a seat beside
⠀⠀him, head resting against his
⠀⠀shoulder.)

⠀⠀”My words have left me. I have
⠀⠀nothing to say after all.”

⠀⠀(Truth be told, he wants nothing
⠀⠀more than to merely bring a
⠀⠀silent sense of comfort.)
⬂

⠀
⠀⠀(He does not bother to
⠀⠀knock. Ever so quietly, he
⠀⠀makes his entrance, approaching
⠀⠀Shadow Milk Cookie’s current
⠀⠀place of sulking. An /oddly/
⠀⠀gentle hand—considering
⠀⠀his current state of mind—is
⠀⠀placed atop his shoulder.)

⠀⠀”Shadow Milk Cookie,” said
⠀⠀simply, but softly.

/ OH IT’S SO FUCKING OVER IM WAY TOO LATE😭😭😭😭😭😭

…………… company

⠀
“I will—
… help you through this, whatever it may take.”

(You remain where you are, in hopes that his breaths will eventually steady.
You couldn’t ever bear to see anyone this way. Not even him, the catalyst, who dragged you down with him by a fistful of your hair.)

⠀
(Despite your fall from grace, there’s a sliver of hope within you that strives to help someone again when no one else could help you.

… You’re not releasing him anytime soon, and he doesn’t seem very eager to let go just yet. It’s mutual contact, for now.)
⬂

⠀
(You’re currently too afraid to view the mistake you’ve committed again.

… But you pause. The sound of his shaky breaths—bordering on hyperventilation—and evident trembling is too much to ignore.

So you turn back, and unexpectedly, wrap him in a tight embrace.)

“Now you can answer me. Please.”

⠀
(Thousands of thoughts rush through your head simultaneously, varying from doubts to possible questions to downright nonsense. But one thing emerges before anything else.)

“Will it grow back, and when?”

(You can’t even bring yourself to look back at him, despite holding his hand.)
⬂

/ silent salt cookie 😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢

⠀
You Bumbling Fool