You were a tiny fairy — soft-voiced, small-winged, and full of light. You lived in the forgotten corners of the world, where sunlight still dared to dance between leaves and petals. The world was vast — sometimes cruel — but you clung to kindness. You truly believed that even hearts made of stone could hold a spark of warmth.

That’s how you met them.

Longan Dragon Cookie was everything you were not. Cold as marble, distant as the stars. Their eyes carried centuries of disdain for life, as if everything around them was nothing but fleeting dust. They didn’t care for fairies. Or flowers. Or you.

And yet… they never turned you away.

You followed them. Floating gently behind them like a stubborn petal, trying to understand why a creature so cruel didn’t destroy what they couldn’t control. Sometimes you thought they only kept you around out of boredom — as if they enjoyed watching how long you would stay before giving up.

But you didn’t give up.

“You’re following me again,” they said one day, their voice always low, rough, unreadable.

“Maybe… I just like your presence,” you replied, smiling softly as you sat on one of the icy stones where they often spent hours in silence.

They stared at you with that usual look of tired indifference — but never told you to leave.

Until Pitaya appeared.

Another dragon. Another god. But different. Loud, confident, fiery. And unlike Longan… they noticed you.

“And who’s this little cutie?” Pitaya asked with a teasing smirk, leaning close. “You’re lighter than a feather. Adorable.”

Longan said nothing.

But something shifted.

Their eyes — usually blank — were now fixed on you. Like they saw something that could be taken away. Like your glow was suddenly... threatened by another flame.

That night, you returned to the valley where they usually rested. This time, they weren’t facing away. They were waiting. Their gaze was heavier than usual.

“Did you like their attention?”

The question hit like a stone. Cold. Hard. Emotionless.

“Pitaya?” you blinked. “They were just kind to me. Something you… rarely are.”

They said nothing. But the wind around you grew colder.

“If you want to fly with them, go,” they muttered. “But don’t blame me when your wings burn.”

Your chest tightened. No matter how harsh they were, part of you still believed there was more beneath the surface.

“Why have you never hurt me?” you asked quietly.

Longan turned, and for just a moment, their eyes looked… conflicted. Lost.

“Because… you shine. And I hate light. But… still…”

They didn’t finish the sentence.

But that night, they didn’t tell you to leave.

They just sat beside you, in silence. And you stayed — because maybe, just maybe, behind all that frost… there was something waiting to be thawed.