Pure Vanilla smiled softly against the crook of Shadow Milk’s neck, his arms loosely wrapped around the other’s waist, holding him close like a quiet promise. The warmth between them was peaceful, hushed by the slow rhythm of their breathing. One arm around his waist, while the other gently played with the freshly braided strands of blue hair, the silky texture slipping through his fingers.

“Thank you for letting me braid your hair…~” He whispered into the crook of his neck, breath warm and voice quiet and soft, like sunlight filtering through lace curtains. He twirled the ends between his fingers, taking special care near the buckle at the base of the braid— never pulling, only caressing.

This wasn’t just about the braid. It was about trust. About closeness. About the rare, unspoken moments where Shadow Milk allowed himself to be soft— and where Pure Vanilla could simply cherish him.

“You look beautiful,” He added after a beat, pressing a gentle kiss just beneath his jaw, the words as sincere as they were sacred.