Pure Vanilla had always been different. Perhaps it was the kindness he extended to anyone whom he thought worthy—or even unworthy at times—or it was the way he carried himself. But most of all, it was the selflessness he showed. When his mother remarried to a man that even he could barely stand… Pure Vanilla had to move up north to live with his father.

He quickly made friends—and one individual had captured his attention—Shadow Milk. A frail looking man, with skin as pale as ice, and eyes as dark as night. A creature that looked as if it didn’t belong in high school hallways and instead, inside a castle of which he would rule. Pure Vanilla was fascinated by the man. Shadow Milk would barely spare a word at first… but with time, Shadow Milk had grown talkative (and less cryptic within his words). Pure Vanilla enjoyed being with the man, even if he didn’t think Shadow Milk was human and was a danger to him.

The meadow was warm. A rare sight within the harsh north. The sun blazed on his skin like a kiss. Pure Vanilla had worn some of his lighter clothes (spring was coming). And Shadow Milk? He was here. And was glowing with energy. In the times Pure Vanilla had caught Shadow Milk, he was usually brooding in the shadows—but right now? Shadow Milk was frolicking around like a man who never got to experience humanity.

“You’re glowing,” Pure Vanilla commented, eyes opening against the sun, just to see the glow emanating from Shadow Milk’s pale skin. This had revealed Shadow Milk was a vampire… with sharp teeth and an even sharper tongue. But Pure Vanilla didn’t mind. He was happy. “Is the sunlight that warm to you?” he pondered aloud. Shadow Milk’s skin was cold as ice—Pure Vanilla always wondered why the vampire liked to hold his hand… and now it made sense. He sighed happily, body relaxing against soft grass. “I suppose… if I was cold as you… I’d enjoy warmth too,” he hummed lowly, imagining a world where Shadow Milk would let him in fully.