Pure Vanilla Cookie was pacing back and forth, his footsteps light but restless, as he took a rare moment to himself—a brief respite from his noble duties as king.

The room was quiet except for the soft rustle of fabric and the faint hum of his thoughts.

Strangely, he was dressed in your clothes, the familiar scent of your perfume lingering like a warm embrace, filling him with comfort and longing.

He loved that scent, especially when you weren’t around—your presence was like a gentle whisper in his heart, a secret shared between closet friends.

He sat on the edge of the plush bed, scrolling absentmindedly through his phone, the glow of the screen casting a soft light on his face.

Suddenly, he heard the faint creak of the door opening, and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

He knew it was you.

Heart pounding, he quickly reached for a nearby blanket, draping it hastily over his shoulders, trying to hide the fact that he was wearing your clothes.

In a flurry of nervousness, he tapped the power button on his phone, shutting it off swiftly, and then feigned sleep, his body tense as he hoped you wouldn’t notice his blushing cheeks or the secret comfort he found in your presence.