My Fair Lady (Dark Cacao Cookie x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 37

"I'm aware that my time has come," Milk Bread blankly murmured, staring the the soldier.

"The king appreciates your compliance," he replied.

As if he could know what the king was thinking.

Either Milk Bread simply didn't feel anything after spending so much time in that dungeon to rot, or she refused to give the satisfaction of striking fear into a prisoner on death row, but she didn't seem to even flinch at the coming of her execution.

"Let's just get this over with," her words were obeyed immediately.

She dragged her feet after so much time not using them for anything, one firm grip clutching at her bound wrists as if she was going to run away. It was funny to her that they still had to show such rigidity despite the frivolous circumstances.

Well, that is, only she thought her situation was frivolous.

You're so important, Milk Bread! Give some fight! Show them you're sick of the injustice!

All around her was the cries and taunts of the other prisoners as she took her walk of shame through the dungeon for the very last time. Teeth were gnashing, whoops were echoed, and yelps of ridicule shot through her ears. Nothing less than a whole flurry of chaos and disorder, as expected from a horde of bottom-of-the-barrel outlaws. The slimy walls matched the grime coating her clothes and face, as well as her dark circles that hollowed her features to a ghastly shape.

No, now it was apparent. She was done. Done with the kingdom, done with being a prisoner, done with Sopapilla, done with Dark Cacao, done with (Y/N).

Done with life itself.

No, no, no! You're purposeful! You have so much more to do!

The soldier dragged her out to an empty courtyard, where a guillotine awaited with a haunting solidarity as if it were made just for her. The blade, freshly sharpened, floated just above where her neck would be. A clean, quick, humane slice. In front, however, was a pedestal where her soul stone would be mounted. As soon as her head was severed, another soldier would crush the gem to bloody shards. The stain of different soul jams stained the surface of the stone with numerous shades.

Red, green, yellow... purple.

Slowly she sauntered over to the cacao podium, the semicircle hugging her neck tightly. She was used to the feeling, however, whenever the top of the other board completely surrounded her, choking her partially. The chains were no less comfortable than the boards.

"Any last words?"

Milk Bread glanced over at the soldier that had picked up the hammer for the soul stone, impatient to get the whole thing over with.

Give them a piece of your mind, Milk Bread. They're feeding into this system of lies and paranoia. You're a symbol of rebellion.

Her tired eyes drifted for a bit, either by diving into deep thought or blanking out.

"They fell for it. Those idiots."

What?

Time didn't wait. The men promptly got to their business, swinging the hammer behind his back, the other winding the pulley tighter.

She never was on our side? Then why-?

SNAP.

The world melted, everything becoming like paint and mixing with one another, Milk Bread's jelly body being saved merely by a runny waterfall of silver that harmlessly flowed in tear drops. The hammer, a swift blur of purple in a rainbow formed wave hovered just above the purple soul stone that glowed less harshly.

Something rang. No, bounced. Bouncing off of the canvas like a trampoline. The pitches slowly merged together, growing more cohesive by the second.

"(Y/-.... (Y/N.... (Y/N)!"

———

"(Y/N)!"

(Y/N) thrashed her head up, blinded by the sun staring straight down at her. A figure was eclipsed by the fingers of sunlight, covering their face.

"(Y/N), I'm so glad that you didn't leave. I really wanted to talk to you."

Blearily (Y/N) blinked away sleep, readjusting her gaze so the sun was concealed behind the face of the cookie.

Those comforting purple eyes stared right back at her, creased with an apologetic look.

"(Y/N), what happened?"

"What?" she reached up, wiping her face thinking that something had stained her. Instead she felt a salty tear wet her dough. A sigh slipped out of her. "Oh... I just— I had a bad dream, I guess."

"If you're still mad at me, it's fine. I'm more than willing to give you more time for breathing room if that's what you want."

(Y/N) wanted more than anything to tell him that he was right. That she was still so strongly upset at him that she needed all the time in the world away from him to process everything. That he needs to stay away from her whenever she figured things out after centuries. But she couldn't. Right now, all she wanted to do was cling to him. She was more upset at herself for that.

Her hands reached up instinctively to his collar, pulling him in. Their lips closed on each other gently.

After a few moments, she let him go, catching her breath again. Some of her tears stained his face where their dough had touched. (Y/N) searched his eyes, expecting to see him light up from the sensitive moment that said I forgive you. But he was still clouded with guilt.

"Tell me how you wanted this all to happen," he asked suddenly.

(Y/N) was stuck on her words. So much attention turned straight back to her. He deflected her apology faster than she'd seen him do the same for his father. The prince waited patiently as she processed the various things going through her mind.

"How honest do you want me to be?" (Y/N) timidly replied. Dark Cacao tilted his head.

Her words lined up in a cautious line. "I didn't expect for us to get this far. You're a prince, and I'm a runaway p-"

"I told you before that I don't feel like a prince."

"And I know that. But you told me to be honest, so I am. I don't deserve somebody like you, somebody who has the world and then some. You threw away you life all for me?" (Y/N)'s face hardened. "I still don't get it. You don't need me just as much as I need you."

"Who said that I don't need you?"

She pressed her lips together to taste him again, Dark Cacao shaking his head slightly. "Don't let my title get in the way about how you might feel about me. We're walking away from it all, (Y/N)! We don't have any labels! They can call us whatever they want but we'll always be who we knew ourselves to be out here."

Witches, he cares so much.

"...You're right, you're right," she admitted in a low voice. "I'm overthinking this all. I'm scared about what's going to happen to us in the end."

"And that's okay. We're running into the dark with blindfolds and a pack of bloodthirsty wolves scratching around to rip us back to their reality." He leaned in again, lightly pecking her forehead. "We've just got to keep running and we'll find our way out, (Y/N)."

"But what about..?"

He huffed slowly. "I got too ahead of everything. I shouldn't have thought that it would be okay for us to do that so early on," his voice grew more and more sincere, "I'm so sorry, (Y/N). Until we're out of the darkness, we won't do that again."

She reached again for his cheek, rubbing it gently back and forth. He leaned into her hand with a content grin. She returned the same.

"That's also what I wanted," she said.

I also want to know if Milk Bread is safe, but how could you know?

Word count: 1315