You were small, soft, and a little clumsy. A sheep Cookie with big eyes, a gentle voice, and quiet steps who wandered around the palace gardens as if you were part of the scenery. Always carrying flowers, leaves, or a little book on how to care for delicate plants.

Pure Vanilla Cookie noticed you on the second day after arriving in the kingdom. Not by chance—but because… you bumped into him. Literally.

— “A-ah! I-I'm so sorry!” — you shrank like a flower bud in the cold, hugging your crushed bouquet to your chest.

He looked at you—surprised… and charmed.

— “Don’t worry,” he replied softly, kneeling to help you. “Nothing’s lost. We can replant.”

Since then, he had started to "coincidentally" pass by the garden every day. Just to see you.

You, of course, always blushed.

— “You don’t have to help me trim the flowers, sir…”

— “But I want to,” he’d say, with that calm, warm smile. “Besides… I like being here with you. It’s… peaceful.”

And it truly was. You had such a gentle, genuine aura that Pure Vanilla often caught himself smiling just hearing your soft laugh. You were the opposite of war, the opposite of pain. You were cotton candy. And he—old and full of bitter memories—surrendered to that more and more each day.

One afternoon, while you both picked lavender, he went quiet for a bit too long. You looked at him, concerned.

— “Is something wrong, Vanilla?”

He blinked. Then chuckled—so quietly it was like a breeze.

— “Did you just call me ‘Vanilla’?”

You turned red from your ears to your toes.

— “S-sorry! I—I didn’t mean to be disrespectful!”

He stepped closer. Gently touched your cheek with his fingertips, like you were made of sugar glass.

— “It wasn’t disrespectful. It was… the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Your heart raced.