Dark Cacao's Inbox

[winterfrosting]

DC is usually patrolling or at Pure Vanilla's house. But poking his notebook will always eventually get his attention!

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[winterfrosting]

[His sheep bits are adorably honest. He's quickly learning the silent language of them]

Very well. Do not take overly long.

[And yeah he's nooot grabbing his shirt as he goes, ha]

[purevanillacookie]

[ ... Well if Cacao thinks he's sleeping in his under armor, he's got another thing coming. But what else is he gonna sleep in? Pure Vanilla desperately needs to buy them some sleeping outfits or he's not going to last.

He'll join after tidying things, locking up, snuffing the fire and lights. Night routine. Teeth taken care of, hair brushed out, a book ready in one hand from the library because he knows himself and knows he's just going to lay there so might as well read a bit by candlelight. A warm glass of milk.

He gets so in routine he forgets Cacao is waiting for him and is half off with his robe - the cape already laid aside - with one hand, book clasped firmly in the other, when he remembers. He stops dead in the doorway, one arm still trapped in his robes, half snagged on one horn. The other half of him is free.

It quite looks like he had a fight with a line of laundry and got it tangled up on him. ]

Ah... Uh... I... I cannot sleep in my robes, my apologies, my wool compacts...

[winterfrosting]

[He has his own, shorter, routine to go through as well. So by the time Vanilla arrives he's already in bed, making a guess on what side Vanilla prefers from which one has a used bedside table and leaving it open]

It is fine. The bed is big enough it should not be an issue.

[Even so he looks away for Pure Vanilla's sake, blushing a bit but not looking particularly put out]

[purevanillacookie]

[ He's a little slower - a little shyer - removing the rest of his robes now while somehow juggling his items and fighting with his horns but he eventually gets it. Staff laid against the wall for a good position to read by, book and milk down on the table, then he sits and shyly swings into his half of the bed, tugging the blankets over him.

Then ponders and reaches over to his bedside table to pull open drawers. He doesn't use them often but for Cacao's sake.... the tips of his horns get carefully padded and wrapped. Even as dull as he keeps them, they will hurt if caught on.

Then with a boldness that comes from the room being dim, he can turn to lean over and gently find Cacao's cheek with his fingers, and kiss it. ]

Goodnight...