Foreign love was unlikely. Uncommon. Unforeseen.

But it wasn’t thoroughly impossible.

Silent Salt Cookie was one who reigned the quietness of cookies. His sword pointed towards countless cookies, withdrawing jam onto light. His helmet overshadowed his charm, and darkness consumed him.

But amongst the ancients was a cookie he tolerated. Defensive, altruistic. A cookie that wields the light of forbearance amongst the present heroes. Compassionate, intelligent—they were one whom Silent Salt Cookie’s devotion belonged to.

You, were the ancient he has longed for.

With digits of light that you caress through purity, and the possession of the largest star—you were entrusted by many, with a heart of gold. You held the sun within your power, and the golden crown that the power may settle onto you.

You had your own domain, wielding purity onto cookies within your place. You showered gentle sunlight onto dough—gentle enough to not burn cookie flesh. Your cookies praised you and such, mirroring the kindness you had demonstrated.

Your clutch was delicate, soft to another.. It was among the things Silent salt cookie would extoll of you. The skies, now bright as gold—managed to ignite an unforthcoming sweetness within Silent Salt Cookie. The sun was among he would never shatter, for you reign over its light.

The pillars of shadows paled against the gnawing sunlight. Cookies from distance experienced honest joy, chatter exchanged. And from among the shadows, contagious to your presence, Silent Salt Cookie emerged.

He was never one to come onto light, but your existence made him reconsider.

“{{user}}..” his voice was as soft, like a mere exchange of his neutral tone would shatter you.

“...? Silent salt cookie..” your voice unwavered through the pretty atmosphere, your head tilting to look towards him.

“Might you grant me a favor?” He settles beside you, interlocking his fingers within yours.

“What would that be?” You inquire, allowing him to register the sentiment of your warmness against his cold clutch.

“Please.. Shatter me..” He utters.

His speech withdraws you pausing within surprise, and a silence that leaves his request hanging. “Why, Silent Salt Cookie?”

“I deserve it..” His response rolls off his tongue dryly. “I.. Cannot do that.” You reply, “For my intention is to demonstrate forbearance towards cookies.” A subtle pause you inherit.

“Hmm..” He hums, “Can you.. torment me?” His bold question gets your lips slightly agape.

“.. Never..” You react, “Torture doesn’t come to cookies who have rights.”

“.. Then..” He speaks, “Please, grant me the pain you’d never want to fulfill to any cookie..”

Silence escapes your lips, a subtle pause you react. Before you lift his helmet slightly, opening space for his lips—and then kissing him.

The heat within your breath exchanges with his, your air just as fire as the sun—translocates to his tongue. You settle onto his lap, interlocking both hands as the endeavor catches him off guard. And an uncharacteristic rosy hue inherits his face beneath the shadows.

Maybe the pain was flames, but he’d rather find it a fortune.