“I sure do like those Christmas cookies, Sugar~”
Moonpie’s voice drifted through the house, soft and raspy from the disuse. A few coughs cleared it enough to have him begin singing once more from the small living area. At the very least… he sounded happy.
His little hands softly held his bemused cat’s paws. The two danced away while Moonpie rambled some song about cookies. Fluffernutter meowed loudly earning a small chuckle from the parasite swirling them both in circles.
“The ones that look like Santa Claus, Christmas trees, bells and stars! I sure do like those Christmas cookies, Babe~”
Recovery was an extensive and tedious process. Things had calmed down significantly, but the tension refused to sway. Today was special despite the air: It was the first day in weeks that Moonpie had slept an entire night without waking up in a blind panic. It called for some hopeful, positive response.
The listless movements he normally made remained at bay for now based on how much he was trying to be happy for Cray’s sake. Pushing himself to sing caused his jaws to ache with the sound of his own voice now nothing more than a shell of it’s vibrant self; He was trying to pretend everything was alright and that the fear of Haze returning into his life didn’t hang over him like a guillotine, blade drawn high.
He was always good at playing pretend. He was the best.
He leaned unconsciously towards the door as the sound of Moonpie’s singing caught his attention, his hands pausing in what they were doing as he simply listened. A song about cookies…A faint smile crossed his features; how perfectly Moonpie.
Hearing him chuckle had an odd effect of making his soul thrum painfully, and his smile stretched into a grimace. It was so much rarer that he saw the parasite truly happy nowadays…He wasn’t blind. He saw how Moonpie attempted to put on a brave face a lot of the time, to ignore what had happened…And Cray would’ve happily gone along with it, except it just felt wrong, like it wouldn’t really fix anything to fake it.
Which was fucking ridiculous, ‘cause he’d spent most of his life faking things in one way or another, and now he was an expert in emotional recovery? One hell of a joke, right there. He really missed his calling in a comedic career.
His movements were harsher as he all but threw the noodles into the pan, only ingrained habits keeping it from splashing out messily. He could get pissed off all he liked - he wasn’t going to mess up the food he was making for Moonpie.
“...Mmmm.” Moonpie inhaled deeply, his sensitive magic all but crying out when he felt something off with Cray. It didn’t matter if it were a pure emotional shift when it came to monsters- the telltale heart told it all. Each emotion ran by the magic in their soul and changes in the distribution were so... painfully noticable to someone who’d broken their ability to properly distribute their magic.
The words broke off as Moonie gathered the white puffball of his cat up into his arms, already shaking. He wasn’t fearful of Cray, but worried for him.
“I-I mean, do you need some...” He leaned against the doorway, gripping it hard enough to restrain his trembling. A tiny smile came forth to further his words. “S-some help?”
Was he even capable of helping? After being so weak with no change apparent in the past few weeks, Moonpie was doubtful he’d be much more than a nuisance in the kitchen. He worried about Cray and how he was feeling. It’s easy to forget Cray has his own demons and crosses to bare when Moonpie was too busy being selfish.
He felt almost bad sometimes when he thought about how much trouble he was causing the vibe.
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