Chapter 166: Syrup Vessels
The pancakes were hot. Like, weirdly hot. Sunny poked one with the edge of his fork and felt the steam rise up and slap him in the face like it had an attitude. Three of them, stacked up like squat little bread pancakes — wait, that didn’t make sense. Whatever. They were round, soft, and smelled like breakfast had punched him in the nose.
He sniffed again. Butter. Syrup. And something else. Warmth? Childhood? No, probably just burnt edge. Yeah. One of them was a little too brown on the side. He liked that.
He stabbed a piece off the top pancake, the fork sinking in with a slow, spongy resistance, like the cake didn’t want to die.
Sunny muttered to himself:
"Yeah, well, we all got problems."
He shoved it into his mouth.
Immediately, his eyes went wide like he’d just remembered something important. He hadn’t. It was just... that good. The pancake was soft. Not wet. Not dry. It was like chewing on a cloud that had made bad decisions. It tasted like sugar and warmth and... whatever the opposite of regret was. Hope? The Daemon of Desire? Probably not.
Maybe just more pancake.
"...I would like to eat you, and your entire delectable family."
He kept talking with his mouth full.
He poured more syrup. Too much. The kind of too much where the pancake got soggy fast, and the plate turned into a syrup pond with islands of disintegrating cake. He didn’t care. He liked it. It was chaos. Sticky, sweet chaos.