Delictable (Sprout x Cosmo)

Feast

Cosmo's Perspective

Craving sweets again, but I want to donate to Teagan's care center just to cheer the residents up a bit. Which means I've got a big batch to make! And a bit of math to do. It's been a while since I've worked with big numbers. I usually let Sprout do all the work, but he said he was feeling sick, so...

"Alright..." I plan to make around 200 cookies. Not only do I need to calculate the ratio so I have enough dough, the most I can fit on a pan is sixteen. Obviously, I know right off the bat that 16 isn't going to make 200... Let's see. I was never the best at math, so this may take a while. Remember: Long division is your best friend!!

The most I can get from an ideal 16x16 is 208 or 224, which sounds perfect to me! But I don't have an oven that's going to fit 13 pans in it. Or 13 large pans. If I break it all down into several sets of four, then... Oh, "Sprout! You feeling better? I was just thinking I need some extra help with this."

"Mmhm," He comes from left, pulling me into a back hug. Already, I feel his breath. His skin. He's hot to the touch, running a fever.

"Ah, you're still burning up..." I sigh. At least he's walking! Medicine sure does work wonders. "Just came to see me, huh?"

"Absolutely. And taste..." His lips brush against my neck, and I can't help but giggle from excitement. I love his kisses.

"Oooh quit it," My hands cup my face from embarrassment, holding it steady. And his teeth grace my neck, pinching. I wince and whine, my breathing picking up. I'm starting to feel a little hot, too. "C'mon, Sprout... Hurry up, so I c-can get back to work. Work. W-work." But instead of letting up, he bites harder. And harder. "That, mmh-hurts a... little, Sprout." I pat his leg, speaking up just in case he didn't hear me.  "Sprout... Sprout, please, you're... That hurts. You're hurting me." But he won't stop, breaking skin. Piercing, it hurts. I try to pull myself off of him, his arms locked around me. Panic, I'm trapped. His arms that once brought so much security. So strong, reliable. I can do nothing but plead, "Sprout. Sprout! Stop it! STOP!"

He finally lets go and I stumble away. My head swims with pain, so much I feel nauseous. That I want to vomit. Shock. He bit me. My shoulder. Like, actually, bit me. He bit me. The gentle air stinging with every pass through. It's gone. It hurts. He bit me. Sprout fully... He bit me! "Sprout! What the-..."

I turn around and look back, Sprout eating what he took of me like it was just some food. A sample. "Oh yeah, mmh..." He licks his lips, wiping the excess from his face and licking that too. "Ohh yeah, that hits the spot."

He ate me. He. Ate. It. He. What? He. No, it couldn't be. "No, you... You, you, y-you, you, you... You're... You can't, no. You- You're..."

"Me... what?" He takes a step forward, the pieces falling into place. I trusted you. "Me... eat you? 'Cause that's what I plan to do."

I stare in disbelief. How could I not see? How could I've been so blind? The signs, all of them. All of them were there, I just never- I didn't think twice about them. The sniffing, biting. The way he'd stop during play. Sprout, you, you... I trusted you. "You're the one behind those disappearances."

"Ah- Hahahaha, biiiingo~" Sprout laughs, almost as if he's proud.  His hand. What's he reaching for? Why does he want to eat... me? "Let's play." He presents his weapon of choice, and I watch his movements carefully, his yellow eyes meeting mine. Standing, I need to move. "Let's play 'Cat & Mouse' for a bit. I'll be the cat..."

"No," I shake my head. Why? When? What went wrong, Sprout? What went wrong? Is it something I did? I need to move. I need to move. My heart is racing. I need to move. "No..."

"And you'll be the mouse, okaaay, Cookie?"

I scream, "No!"

I can't stop shaking. He counts down.

"Three."

Move.

"Two."

Move.

"One."

As if I ever planned to play, we both take off after one. Sprout barreling toward me as I make hard left around the kitchen island. Squeezing my wound as hard as possible to slow the bleeding. I trip and fall to a knee, scooting across the floor. There's a loud thud above me. His hammer. Lodged in the wall, having barely missed me. I scramble back around the island, ducking. Hiding. I need to control my breathing.

There's grunting. I peek, watching Sprout struggle to pull the hammer from the wall. I need to move. Using my shirt, I tie it around my arm. It won't help much, but it's all I've got. "Cos!-mo... This kitchen isn't all that big, you know."

Something. He's free. I need something. He's Knives. I jump for the knife block, scrambling for a knife as Sprout sprints for me. My eyes close, swing. He screams, backing away as metal clatters to the floor. I reopen them to find I've cut his left eye. I'm so sorry...

Taking the opportunity, I sprint over to the door, banging on it. Tugging. Out. Please. The lights. I turn out the lights, the room glowing a red hue.

"Oh?" Sprout laughs. He's recovered, now with a blind spot. "Turning down the lights, eh? Mmh, hehe, way to set the mood, Cosmo."

My teeth chatter, talk. Whimpering. On the floor, I try to slink through the darkness. There's no doubt he has the key somewhere, but there's no way I'm getting it off of him. And with no way to call for help, I'm stuck. I trusted you.

The stove light kicks on, and his silhouette is much more visible. His shadow appearing much larger. I need to control my breathing, or else, he'll hear me. Can't he smell me? "Boo."

I scream again, another close call as the floor crackles. A crazed look to Sprout's face and eye. It glows. He swings against and I block it with my knife, my arms practically screaming at me as I channel all my strength into them. Trembling. Sprout is much stronger than me, bigger, but I managed to blow him off. Kicking him, then driving my knife into his thigh.

He groans, hissing with pain and I escape again. How much more of this? How much?

I try to stay low, out of the light. Out of sight. I need a plan. We circle around the island a bit more, my scooting. "Cosmo... C'mon, weren't you joking when you said I wouldn't get dinner? Just a few more bites, babes! It'll only hurt for a bit..."

Rustling. Right, there's drawers. Cabinets full of supplies. Knives still on the floor. There's- Pain. Something... blunt. A pan, probably? He pins me and takes my eye, a chunk of my head, biting me. The knives tenderizing my back. I can't push him off. I can't get it back. My nails, they won't stop him. Ichor dripping on my from his wide, sharp toothed smile as I desperately fight him off of me. "Sprout!"

The knives. I take another, right through the stomach, and kick him off. This time, he spits up. Standing up and stumbling back from me. His golden eye jittering around from shock.

From below, I don't miss a beat and impale him through the cheek and the left eye, running him into the wall. Plunging the knife in his stomach further, squeezing more ichor out of him as it pins him to the wall.

"Cos...m-mo," He gargles. I've won. It's over.

I kiss him. He touches me, attempting to hold me. Him. The Sprout I know. His ichor-stained lips. Please, hold on for me. We can fix this. Please. Please. He dissolves into me. Please no. We can fix us! He dissolves. He's dissolved. He's gone. He's dissolved.

He's gone.

"Sprout..." I cry. Crying. Blood or tears, I don't know. "Sprout!"

I trusted you.

"SPROUT!!"