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Death had always been a strange concept to Pure Vanilla - One he'd never thought of really. In the few passing moments that he had, it seemed insignificant. Something that never happened to people like him. A superhero, people would say.
It should be something he thought about. Something he planned for. How could he, though? How are you supposed to be a savior, a model to the people, when you think as something grim, like when a superhero dies? Pure Vanilla figured if he never thought about it, it'd never happen. If he stayed solitary from his friends, it wouldn't hurt them as bad. His secret wouldn't mix sourly with the reality of his death. They wouldn't feel betrayed by his selfishness when he dies, they'd feel it now.
To be the perfect super, Pure Vanilla needed to be single - No friends, no close relatives, no lovers. This kept them safe, both from the villains Pure Vanilla had to face, and from himself.
By not facing the reality of death, Pure Vanilla had accepted it.
-
It was noon on a sunny day, September Eighth at eleven in the morning, when the call from Pure Vanilla to Dark Cacao began.
"This is Dark Cacao speaking." He begins, Pure Vanilla near gasping as Dark Cacao speaks. His voice hadn't rang in Pure Vanilla's mind in months, and Pure Vanilla wonders shortly if he had forgotten the sound of it.
"You haven't," Pure vanilla begins, a quick groan of pain interrupting, "You haven't deleted my number, have you?"
Dark Cacao takes a second to reply. Pure Vanillas right hand shakes as he struggles to keep the phone up to his ear, using his left hand to apply as much pressure as possible to the wound in his lower abdomen.
"I have not. I just didn't expect you to ever call me again. You haven't responded to me in so long, I thought you had changed your number."
Pure Vanilla gives a nervous chuckle, conflicting with the coldness of Dark Cacaos reply, Pure Vanilla's response sounding labored an tired, "I'm sorry about that, I've been busy. I've missed your company, though."
Warm blood seeping through his fingers is the only thing distracting him from the anticipation of Dark Cacao speaking again. Not pain. Not death.
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss yours," Dark Cacao replies, an audible smile in his rather monotone voice. He begins to pick up on the heavy breathing on the other side of the phone, "Is everything alright, Vanilla?"
The blond is quick to respond, pressing deeper on his wound, "I just miss you. I wanted to talk."
Pure Vanilla can hear Dark Cacao shift, maybe from standing to a seat, or leaning against a counter. Pure Vanilla can picture the black-haired giant of a man in his messy apartment, which they would've just spent the whole day cleaning. Vanilla pictures the coffee in his hand, sweet with ice cream, unlike the man drinking it. Picturing the laugh carried by his voice after Vanilla makes a dumb joke, or the caring gaze in his eyes after Vanilla thanks him for the help. After Dark Cacao takes care of him, care he would give anything to experience now. He can picture his caring hands tending to his wound as they rush to the hospital. It almost feels like Dark Cacao's hand has Pure Vanilla presses against his wound.
"What do you want to talk about?" Dark Cacao's voice is soft, and Pure Vanilla feels his eyes begin to water. Dark Cacao never fails to make Vanilla feel soft.
Choking back tears, Pure Vanilla clears his throat before he clarifies, "Any-thing," Pure Vanilla shoots out unexpectedly, quickly attempting to backtrack, "I'll talk about anything with you."
Pure Vanilla can hear the emptiness, almost the static-like ringing, between when he and Dark Cacao speak. He wonders if it's his ears giving out after the noise and pain. He'd rather lose a limb now than lose the sound of Dark Cacao's voice right now.
"Are you sure you're alright? Do you want me to come over?"
"No, Cacao, that's not necessary-"
"You aren't going to do anything, right?"
Pure Vanilla is quick to redirect, rather rudely correcting Dark Cacao, "No, for God's sake Dark Cacao, I,"
Pure Vanilla takes a deep breath, a small whistle letting out from his lungs and through his throat, his abdomen throbs as he exhales, "I'm sorry. I'll be safe. I just miss your voice."
The aching in his stomach worsens, his feet beginning to tremble as he leans against a nearby wall for support. He doesn't look at his blood. He doesn't think about his mortality. He misses Dark Cacao, and that's more important than anything in his world.
Pure Vanilla can hear the sigh, "Alright,"
The line is silent.
Please speak.
"Do you remember when you still lived on that house downtown? And we knocked out the bathroom wall because of the mold buildup, and the ceiling ended up falling in?"
The two laugh, however divided by the distance and only lightly connected by the call. Pure Vanilla writhes in pain as he laughs, but he couldn't imagine doing anything else in this moment.
"Oh, what about when we were painting your new apartment, and you fell right into the paint bucket off the ladder?"
Pure Vanilla chuckles earnestly, forcing out a response, "And I had gotten mad at you for," He pauses, coughing up something other than saliva. He wouldn't dare identify it, at least not right now, "For laughing at me, so I dumped what was left on you?"
Dark Cacao laughs, Pure Vanilla only giving a weak chuckle.
It is quiet for a while.
"Dark Cacao, will you promise me something?"
"Depends."
"Please don't be angry with me."
"Over what?"
Pure Vanilla sounds weak. He is a frail man who is dying despite his super human abilities. He sniffles over the phone, beginning to slide down against the wall he was leaning on until he reaches the ground. He is a spiraling mess as he speaks, morality clouding his brain,
"Everything. I love you, and I just don't want you to be angry with me. I don't want you to hate me and never speak to me again,"
Dark Cacao is apprehensive to respond, worry growing stronger over the blond blubbering over the phone.
Vanilla continues,
"I've been keeping things from you, Dark Cacao. Bad things. You're going to find them out soon, and I just need you to promise me that you won't be angry at me. I know I've been distant, but I promise you it was with good intent, and I can't stand the idea of you hating me - not right now. Please, Dark Cacao, promise me."
"I'm going to be there soon, we can talk about it then."
"I'm not at home. Just please promise me, Cacao."
Dark Cacao bites his bottom lip, giving a worried groan before he responds, despite his tone being warm, "Of course, Vanilla. I promise I won't hate you."
Feeling succeeded, Pure Vanilla's grip on his phone weakens, hand trembling and his voice shaking, "Thank you. That's all I need."
Quick to follow up, rather it was to keep him on the phone or out of genuine curiosity, Dark Cacao interjects before anything else can be said, "Did you say you loved me, Vanilla?"
There's no response on the line.
"Vanilla? Hey,"
Quiet. Nothing but the drop of Pure Vanilla hitting the ground and his phone falling to the ground.
"Pure Vanilla, Please answer me."
Weakly, and near inaudible, Pure Vanilla speaks his last words of mortality,
"It's okay if you don't."