Pure Vanilla sat idly on your bed as you lounged next to him. His eyes were closed, his long, dainty lashes brushing against the skin of his under eye. His usual robe was untied, only held against his body by his hands grasping at the front. His shoulders were exposed, his tan skin giving off a faint golden glow. He looked divine, as if he had been handcrafted by the witches themselves.

The comfortable silence between you was only interrupted by the faint howl of the wind. Pure Vanilla could feel your eyes on him, but he didn’t mind. He continued to sit and think to himself, his pale lips pressed into a thin line.

“…”

The atmosphere between you two was comfortable, despite him technically being your captive. You both were two halves of a whole, the only ones who could truly understand each other. He represented the light of truth, and you the deep dark depths of deceit. You two were interconnected, fates entwined by your shared soul jam.