It's a Little Bit Funny, This Feeling Inside; I'm Not One of Those Who Can Easily Hide- I Hope You Don't Mind, But Yours' Are *The SWEETEST* Eyes I've Ever Seen...
"'Please come back. I will make you a *LOVELY fish dinner*!' -Okay; have t' admit tha's nice o' him, even if he *WAS flirtin'*! (An' they say tha' OLD people *dinnae* know how t' flirt!! *CLEARLY*, they've never met an older Italian man... 'They age like fine wine', *indeed*!)"
"It's not *HIM*."
"-*Oh, MY GOD*!! *No*."
"*SOLID 'No'*."
"Well, wouldn't *THIS be awful nice*, Claire?? Goin' from a boy who WORKS th' fields, to a man who *OWNS* 'em! And you got t' skip th' *MESSY bits*...!"
"My dear companion Woodrow, *life itself* IS 'the messy bits'."
"I know- I know... M' just sayin'!"
"'Peccato' it *wasn't ME*. I would have *NEVER* let you go...! *Believe me*."
"Yes..."
"'Arrevideci'."
"'Arrevideci'..."
'Bastian and Mr. Charlie narrowed their eyes a bit at this 'uomo', who actually *lightly kissed 'Signora' Claire on the lips* in farewell alongside gifting her with a lovely white rose from his garden; but he was respectful about it, at least. His wife, when she'd been alive, must have been the *LUCKIEST* women alive to have this pretty nice guy for a 'marito' (husband)...!
"*What is it* with you and ITALIAN MEN???" Sophie wanted to know. "They fall at your feet...!"
Well... Pinocchio might be G-A-Y, but he could still clearly tell and see that 'Signora' Claire Smith was a lovely, classy, smart, warm and kind woman who must have been a 'knockout' back in her hey-days as a maiden and then as a fully-grown lady. Clearly, that was what all of these Tuscan men saw and sensed as well, he mused as he twirled the thorn-trimmed stem of his own snow-shaded rose given to him by that last guy as well (saying to him with a kind smile and a wink, ~"A 'molto bello e dolce ragazzo' such as yourself deserves a lovely sweet-smelling flower as much as a 'gentil bella donna', 'piccolo' Pinocchio..."~ He'd blushed the color of a *REDDISH-PINK rose* at that), lifting it to his nose to breathe in the faint scent of summer rain, fresh spring air, violets, and lemon meringue.
"It's such a shame-! I think I could have been happy here, same as 'Bastian and Uncle Woody..."
"-'Happy'?? Did *your grandson* just say 'happy'?"
"I said '*could have been*'; let's not get carried away! I have *a REPUTATION* to uphold."
But Charlie was grinning with a small eye-twinkle as he stiffly said this to an astonished Sophie- and NOW it was fairly easy to see why Sebastian so easily put up with him, and was more than glad to call him both an 'amico' and a 'cugino'. It made Pinocchio smile, too.
And later at dinner that night, he and Sophie found out about his being a pro bono legal lawyer- you know, the sort of defending the helpless, preserving human rights, helping refugees get asylum sort of thing. Sophie was again surprised, since she'd previously been leaning more towards 'elitist Oxford prig' as well as 'buttoned-up buttock-clenching killjoy'- but then again, 'self-satisfied do-gooder' that she made him argue that True Love was *BULLOCKS* worked out quite nicely as well.
Pinocchio noticed the sparks between them once backs stopped bristling and arching- and it made him bite and worry his lip, near-pull at his hair, flick his fingers, clutch and rub at his arms, and rock back-and-forth either on his heels or in his seat as his heart clenched in his chest and soul panged. Had Sophie been single, then he would have been completely all for it! -But she *WASN'T single*, here; she was ENGAGED, ring or no ring...
Prince Charming might not be paying all that much attention to Cinderella right now, but while 'charming', he was ALSO raised to be '*sincere*' alongside in this story, and would be genuinely heartbroken if she called the wedding off and eloped with the Baker (who had no wife, here; either he was divorced, or she was *The Baker's SISTER*)! He wasn't angry or upset with his dear beloved 'sorella' by any means- he was just more than a bit worried and heartsick for one of his best friend's family members who just so happened to be in love with and engaged to her, even if it didn't really seem like it at the moment (especially to her). *No matter what she semi-thought or believed at the moment, Victor Bernal Rivera was not and WOULD NEVER BE ~Blanderson AKA Blaine Anderson~, thankyouGodthankyouangels*!!
He *DEARLY hoped* -*PRAYED*, even- that Charlie Wyman didn't have a girlfriend, lover, or fiancee himself that he would have to worry about potential heartbreak for alongside Hector's cousin as he watched Sophie and Mr. Charlie quietly and cordially converse with one another while he escorted her to her room like the gentleman that he actually was even though he'd pretty much forgotten his manners every single time when he and Sophie had first met each other...
Suddenly, the very faint sound of someone strumming the strings of a violin reached his ears, alongside the now-familiar sound of a male someone singing ...or rather, *ATTEMPTING to sing*, but constantly getting frustrated with himself- therefore continually starting and stopping both his instrument-playing and singing. That certain now-familiar someone?? *It was Sebastian*.
Smiling faintly but genuinely, Pinocchio followed the choppy but still-'piacovole' sound like anyone romantically interested in Victor Van Dort from Tim Burton's 'Corpse Bride' canonically or no to the guest-room suite that he and the Scots-Italian gentleman were currently sharing for the next couple of days and nights. At one point (reaching the closed door), he actually heard a couple of semi-complete verses quavered in the elder male's accented lilting voice as smooth and sweet as dark chocolate touched with mint, orange, and blackberry, pressing his ear against the thick wood in order to hear better what he apparently had down so far.
~"My dear father loved t' say,
'Hop t' th' top o' the day!
Th' drops are easy t' swallow...'
My dear father loved t' say,
'*Mop yer tears* an' MEND *yer SORROWS*;
Don't drown yerself wishin'
For better tomorrows'...
A floatin' tune is in th' air-
The simple things ye care t' share:
*A trace o' light*,
A FLOCK OF SPARROWS-!
Watercolors in May
Paintin' *a PURPLE SKY*-
*Up an' alive*, a RIVER!
Strokes on a mandolin,
Playin' a gentle sigh;
These are th' simple things
That matter...
Ye want t' *think BRIGHT*-
Ye want to think RIGHT!
A star fallin' *down, down, down*
Doesn't break th' night;
You want t' think *BRIGHT*
*Whatever you do*...
Teeny bells go 'ding! Ding! Ding!'
On a summer night, *jus' LET YER HEART SING*-!
For life has a *FUNNY way*
Of goin' ROUND AN' ROUND-
On a ride it goes-! One day, *side-to-side*;
One day, UPSIDE-DOWN, *down, DOWN*...!
Ye CAN *make it right*-
Well worth a good fight
When yer heart is *BRIGHT*-!
An' if some days have *downs an' lows*,
Let th' world go HOW IT GOES-
*Open yer arms t' BETTER TOMORROWS*..."~
Pinocchio couldn't help himself- he clapped at the end, grinning like a fool. He could *FEEL his eyes sparkling* with joy, wonder, and admiration as much as his big bright smile pressing into his cheeks and stretching his lips from ear-to-ear.
"*Gah*!!!" Sebastian yelped on the other side of the door, dropping his violin onto the bed where he slept. "'Santo cielo'!! Who- Who is it?? Who's there tha' jus' listened on me? Housekeepin'?"
'Listening in'- *eavesdropping*. -*Oh*; right.... He *HAD basically just been doing that*, hadn't he? And he well-knew by now that a lot of musicians don't care to have their compositions listened to before they were fully and utterly complete, because it was so PERSONAL, *private*, and *DEAR* to them...
Now his rosy flush of joy turned into a red blush of shamed embarrassment, and he flinched a bit where he stood. "No- it's- it's... 'S just me- P-Pinocchio. I- I kinda heard ya playin' 'n singin' in here, and- and followed th' sound 'cause- 'cause it sounded awful pretty, even if you were always gettin' frustrated for some reason. I'm- I'm awful sorry for eavesdroppin'- you'd- you'd think that *by NOW*, I'd know MUCH *better* since two of my best friends are musicians themselves...!"
"-Could ye open th' door an' come in 'per favore', 'Nocchi-lad? I dinnae want t' continue this conversation through a closed door where yer standin' out in a hotel hallway- ye ken wha' I'm sayin'?"
Pinocchio swallowed hard and did just that, though relaxed minutely after closing and locking it once he was inside upon seeing not even the beginning hint of a flash or glint of anger in Sebastian's aquamarine eyes or lining/twisting his kindly 'tashed face fringed by a soft wave of mouse-brown hair that appeared silvery-gray(ish) in certain lights even if there was a tinge of red further coloring his tanned-peach skin at his cheeks. Instead, his lips were turned upward into a smile altogether sheepish, flattered, and sweet which caused the boy's heart to do another cricket-wing flutter if not simply the flap of a bat.
"Calm yerself an' lose th' frightened rabbit look, will ye?" he chortled warmly. "I amna angry or anythin' o' th' sort with ye, 'bambola vivente'! 'Si', yes- 'tis verra personal an' private, playin' an incomplete tune tha' yer tryin' t' compose an' get right and then havin' someone listen in on ye... But 'tis *not ALWAYS* like someone's walked in on ye *STARKERS*- it wasna *in th' least bit* like that right now an' jus' then, when ye apparently heard me warblin' an' strummin', I assure ye!"
"One- *One-hundred-and-TEN* percent, *most honestly-honest*, TRUTHIEST truthiness *EVER*??" Pinocchio stammered, still feeling unsure and a bit mortified on 'Bastian's behalf since it sounded like he was basically *baring his soul* just a minute or two ago.
If possible, those 'bello' eyes flickered even warmer- his smile even sweeter but not *anything CLOSE* to 'cloying' or 'sickly'. "May *MY OWN nose* grow long as long, my legs shorter than short, or *BOTH* if I'm lyin'."
-WHY, why, *WHY* did that quiet yet sincere and profound sentence make his heart beat even faster *and GLOW* at the same time while his *soul* was akin to 'The sky's awake!'???!!
"'Grazie'. You- You *play BEAUTIFULLY*! Your s-singin's awful nice, too."
Another soft kind chirping chortle. "Well, *thank YE* verra kindly, verra much, Pinocchio! It's jus' a little somethin' I've been workin' on for th' last three months that's STILL *givin' me FITS* like ye wouldna believe- well, at least I have *MOST OF it* down by this point. I just have t'- heh! Y' know, *fine-tune* it. Literally."
"You're- You're m-mostly kindly welcome, 'Bastian."
He gently patted the right side of the bed, and Pinocchio still-nervously sat down while tucking a loose lock of raven hair behind his ear and rubbing it between his fingertips. He could faintly feel the gentle heat between their bodies, this close... It made him bite his lip and rub his arm again, while Sebastian's aromal citrusy forest otto-essence both tickled his nose and caused him to- *hem*, 'react'. (NOT in a *NOTICEABLE way*, thankfully!)
"D' ye play anythin' yerself, 'occhi luminosi'?" 'Bastian queried through a hum. "Sing 's well? Both- or neither?"
"P-Piano 'n guitar- the harp too, 'casionally. S-Si, I- I do like t' sing 'longside."
"I thought so, on th' verra latter. I just didna want t' assume, for all th' portrayals of yer namesake's bein' an actor an' enjoyin' it- aye? Ye know wha' they say: '"assume" translates to "You make *an ASS* out o' *you* an' ME!"' Ah- erm... No- *NO pun intended* on- on that 'ass' bit."
"The consequence for goin' to The Land 'f Toys, y' mean?? It's- It's alright, 'Bastian; h-*honest*! And you weren't- weren't assumin'- your guess just- just happened t' be correct, 's all. I'd- I'd say 'on the nose', but..."
Sebastian tried to hold back an outburst of laughter at that one, but failed. For once not the least little bit hurt, embarrassed, annoyed/frustrated, or all of the above whenever somebody made a stereotypical 'Pinocchio'-esque joke or quip like referring to The Nose (*THAT one* ESPECIALLY either internally or externally causing him to exclaim a full-blown '*AAARRRGGHH*!!!!' a la poor Charlie Brown or a particularly-frustrated Linus Van Pelt), Pinocchio giggled, snickered, and chortled at his kind-of-self-deprecating joke himself, Sebastian's laughter was so non-sickly infectious as much as his inately kind manner, 'piacovole' cyan eyes, and keen smarts both street and book.
Eventually, they quieted down enough to continue talking, Pinocchio feeling half less nervous now.
"Ye said ye play th' guitar? -So do I; 'tis no' jus' the violin, much as I love th' old girl."
"O-Oh? Gee... Hec- Hector 'n Miguel taught me how t' play; *THAT one*, anyway. My uncle Nicco was the one who taught me how to play th' piano, and- and harp I just picked up 'n learned via YouTube and books b'cause I was awful interested, but didn't know anyone who actually played aforementioned instrument."
He relaxed further when Sebastian didn't ask him about his 'zio', or any other member of his blood/birth family even though he could see the curiosity BURNING in those pale near-glowing blue-greenish eyes. As awful nice, kind, sweet, gentle, and warm as Sebastian was, he was NOWHERE *NEAR* ready to divulge even part of his own life story before he'd found himself in Sophie's and Papa's lives and vice-versa! Just- just, *NO*...
"My gramps schooled me in th' way o' the six-string- kinda taught me how t' sing, too ...but most o' THAT was taught by either my choir teachers in middle an' high school or a private musical tutor. How 'bout ye?"
"Half- Half B. C. Adoption, h-half A. D. Adoption. I- I go to NYADA back home in New York."
This seemed to really impress Sebastian! "Th' actual New York Academy o' Dramatic Arts??? *WOW*! Tha's REALLY *somethin'* ye've accomplished there, 'stellino'! What year are ye in right now??"
"My- My last one. I- I was one 'f those Matilda-esque kids that graduated high school at thirteen like Hiro 'n Miguel; sk-skipped a grade n' half at NYADA, too. Miguel's attendin' too, 's well as Mirabel. K-Kurt went there b'fore he was a Secretary."
"No' Hiro?"
"No- no, he's- He's goin' t' the San Fransokyo Institute 'f Technology with his older brother Tadashi 'n their friends Aieko/Honey-Lemon, Ethel Tomago, David 'Wasabi' No-Ginger, and 'Dashi's 'ragazzo' Fred Lee. He's an admitted *NERD/GEEK* like th' rest of us, and doesn't *MIND musicals 'r theater*- but he's no actor or 'theater buff' by any stretch 'f the imagination!"
"Ah... I see."
*********************************************************************************************************************************************
A stretch of silence, semi-unsettling yet just a bit comfortable. Then, subconsciously, Sebastian picked up the simple-yet-beautiful lighter-toned guitar that had been laid next to his dark 'old girl' of a violin. When he plucked at its strings and quietly sang along to the melody, Pinocchio recognized the song (admittedly mostly from listening to it in full after watching the trailer for 'Dear John' because he'd loved the soft sad beautiful sound of the bittersweet tune).
SEBASTIAN: ~"I find th' map an' draw a straight line
Over rivers, farms, an' state lines-
Th' distance from 'A' t' where you'd B;
It's only *finger-lengths* I see...
I touch th' place
Where I'd find yer face-
My fingers' increases
*Of DISTANT DARK PLACES*..."~
PINOCCHIO: ~"I hang my coat up in the *FIRST bar*-
There's *no peace* that I've found so far;
The laughter penetrates my silence
As drunken men find flaws in science...
Their words *mostly NOISES*:
*Ghosts with just voices*...
Your words in my memory
Are like *MUSIC* t' me..."~
'BASTIAN AND 'NOCCHI: ~"*And MILES FROM* where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground, and I-
I *PRAY* that somethin' PICKS ME UP,
And sets me down in your warm arms...!"~
SEBASTIAN: ~"After I have traveled for SO *FAR*,
*We'd set th' fire t' the third bar*-!
We'd share each other like an island,
Until *EXHAUSTED*, close our eyelids..."~
PINOCCHIO: ~"And dreamin', pick up from
The' last place we left off-
Your soft skin is *WEEPIN'*
A joy you *CAN'T keep in*...
And *MILES FROM where you are*,
I *lay down on th' cold ground*..."~
SEBASTIAN: ~"An' I-
I *PRAY* tha' somethin' PICKS ME UP
An' *sets me down in yer warm arms*..."~
'BASTIAN AND 'NOCCHI: ~"*And MILES FROM* where you are,
*I lay down on th' cold ground*, and I-
I *PRAY* that *SOMETHIN' picks me up*, and
-*Sets me down in YOUR WARM ARMS*...!"~
Neither seemed sure what to say again while Sebastian's fingers strummed the ending chords of Snow Patrol's "Set the Fire to the Third Bar", until...
"Ye've a *LOVELY voice*, lad- like a merfolk's. ...Ye a counter-tenor?"
"Uh- Uh-huh. Same- same 's Miguel 'n Kurt. A- A lot 'f guys don't really like that in my case, though. I'm- I'm *REAL glad* YOU don't seem t' mind."
An angry disgusted scoff- not towards him, though. "'Tis like I said (*to MYSELF* in actuality, but *SEMANTICS*)- *ickapatootie-dunderheads*...! WHA' in th' name 'o *CARLO LORENZINI-COLLODI* were they expectin' from ye??!"
Pinocchio worried his lower lip between his teeth again, rubbed a thumb over his upper arm while lightly swinging his brown-sneakered feet. "...T' 'grow up'. To be a *REAL-Real Boy* with- with a deeper/more low voice, more muscular, taller, NOT *freckled*, no longer long-nosed, not *LONG-haired*, my face an *ACTUAL person's* and not still like that 'f a doll; t' be interested mainly in things like sports, fishin', huntin'/shootin', gamin'... To *STOP* actin' 'weird' an' bein' *so QUEER* b'sides The Obvious, b'cause it was 'gross' 'n 'creepy', and I WASN'T a *little live wooden puppet new t' the world who didn't know any better* anymore.
"-Can't tell ya 'nough times I've been told I should be TAN 'n not pale as Snow White or a Tim Burton character, or should have *CHESTNUT-BROWN hair* t' go with my blue eyes instead 'f *black* as Collodi wrote me if not flat-out they didn't wanna be arrested 'n thrown in jail for bein' *a PEDOPHILE*/child sex predator molester, since I was *CLEARLY* still nothin' but a silly little kid."
He blinked hard against stinging wet salt, and not just due to further stimming.
"-Lemme guess. Anythin' like Tinder, eHarmony, OKCupid, Plenty o' Fish, Match, an' even Grindr just led t' *CYBERBULLYIN'* fer ye?"
He bit his lip so hard that he almost bled, shaking as his quivering hot eyes overflowed yet didn't drip. His nails didn't dig into his arm like they did the bed, but his fingertips pressed so hard into his alabaster skin flecked with 'fairy/angel kisses' that it not only BRUISED but *hurt*. *He GULPED* before choking out in an almost-sob, "'F you've ever seen 'Cyberbully' with Emily Osment or heard about the Dave Karosky case in Lima, Ohio...
"I- I *SWEAR* that I *didn't ACTUALLY* try t' commit suicide, even- even if- if I got 'friendly suggestions' to- to- finish what C-Collodi the p-pussy-wimp couldn't- couldn't bring himself t' go through with! It- It- It w-*WAS* cl-*close*, though... I- I ...I sliced a hangin' noose in half, and- and m-made m'self let go of all but two pain pills; even- even drew myself smashin' Romeo's bottle 'f poison against the wall and waitin' for Juliet to wake up so she 'n Ophelia could be t'gether in Manuta along with Mercutio and Romeo (Benvolio was with Feste) and she wouldn't hafta marry Paris."
Now *SEBASTIAN'S eyes* were glittering and atremble with tears as he made a semi-soft wounded mournful noise ripped through set yet quivering lips, reaching out to both cup and stroke Pinocchio's stippled cheek streaked with a couple of tears that had escaped with one hand while the other clenched into a rock-solid fist at his side. His palm and fingers were so gentle- *so WARM*; callused, but just slightly, from writing and playing instruments plus possible occasion garden work...
The fingerlessly-gloved hand clutching Pinocchio's arm relaxed and fell limp, and the one previously at his own side reached upward to gently take a hold of and clasp Sebastian's hand.
"-*Monsters*. *MONSTERS*!! THA'S wha' they are, those *dobber eejits* o' 'ragazzoe e uomoe'!" Sebastian hissed in furious misery. "Either The Law, school, or both had BETTER HAVE *taken care o' them*...!"
Pinocchio nodded silently. "Lot of 'em. -Most of 'em."
"*Good*!" 'Bastian nodded back, "b'cause ye deserve t' be protected 's much as anyone else who's been *HURT* like this if not assaulted or beaten up alongside hurtful teasin' an' online harassment. *Ye do*, Pinocchio Edward Benjamin Hall...!"
"I- I know. -I b'lieve ya, 'Bastian..."
His next "-Good" was more quiet in a WARM *TENDER manner*, and the next comforting thumb-brush over his cheek that simultaneously wiped another another tear shed made Pinocchio shiver as his heart pounded near-painfully against his breastbone. It was a light caress- *feathering*, almost... a caress he more than gladly returned by softly trailing his fingers over the back of 'Bastian's hand as sky melted into sea-water on a clear near-cloudless day to be able to meet via reflection.
"...Have ye ever been kissed b'fore?? On- On th' mouth, I mean? A peck? A snog- in-b'tween 'spark'?? -Two, 'r all three?"
Another hard swallow as a couple of memories flashed painfully before his eyes. "Only as *a JOKE*, b'fore- either a peck or a full-blown make-out. Only *NICE kiss* I've ever had was with Hiro, 'n we turned out t' both be recessives like Miguel 'nstead of Hiro bein' dominant like one would think/'know' of him. Any other time I tried m'self, they literally laughed in my face and/or told me t' 'run along home, little boy, and let *the ADULTS* and *BIG kids* keep talking and not just PLAYING "House", and *don't try again* until you've actually *GROWN UP* instead of continuing t' be one of Peter Pan's Lost Boys'."
Sebastian both sobbed and spat a curse in Scots-Gaelic that Pinocchio couldn't translate even roughly as a few saltdrops slipped free down his own face. Then *BOTH OF his hands* cradled Pinocchio's 'phizog' while he leaned down and in to softly press his lips to his weeping eyes- peppering his damp eyelids, feathering his tear-wet lashes. Then up to his forehead and temples, where he sweetly pecked every single freckle that he saw as well as the soft warm snowy skin in-between before repeating the same motions with both of his cheeks- his jawline- his chin- his nose...
"*SCREW 'em* an' wha' they think," 'Bastian muttered when he got there, butterflying his silken-soft firm warm lips over every single inch of Pinocchio's elongated-button probiscis. "Yer conk an' lentigos are *bloody adorable*-! *YER* bloody fuckin' adorable an' sweet as biscuits left out fer Father Christmas... PLENTY 'mature' in mind, body, heart, an' soul, *fuck ye, stupid damn eejits o' bullyin' Gryffindors*!"
Pinocchio hiccuped in shock, wonder, awe, and feelings FINALLY, *finally*, *FUCKING FINALLY* returned in full. "*'BASTIAN*- *Sebastian*!" he gasped quietly amidst leaning up and planting a few displaced messy (and semi-wet) kisses on *HIS 'Grillo Parlente's'* handsome face, gripping tight onto his upper arms. Then he mewled and whimpered in tandem with 'Bastian's shallowed groan of a keen when they covered each other's mouth with one another's lips.
Their kiss -their first 'spark'- was tender and fiery- hungry and sweet. One moment it was a fleeting butterfly tease of lips, the next it became a hot eager biting of mouths. Lips and tongue suckled both gently and rough, slid along one another until it felt as though *their SOULS* were kissing if not their pounding-and-fluttering hearts as they made low ragged noises into each other's mouths as they licked sighs and moans from one another's lips! The tips and length of Pinocchio's fingers left small bruises on Sebastian's arms underneath his shirt-sleeves- Sebastian's gentle touch at Pinocchio's face began to tickle, tingle, and flame-flicker to match the kindling hearth-fire burning in their bellies, though the gentleness and warmth remained all throughout that searing kiss.
Mouths melted against one another until they had to pull away for more than a few seconds of air, but they still pulled one another closer into an actual embrace, Pinocchio laying his dark head against Sebastian's strong lean shoulder and chest and wrapping his arms loosely-yet-tight around his back while Sebastian caressed and toyed with his tea-tree/mint-scented thick black locks. 'I love you' was thought in English, Italian, Scots-Gaelic, Norse, Spanish, and Swahili (they both loved 'The Lion King', it turned out) and whispered sweetly via slightly damp sparkling eyes, but not yet said aloud.
Instead...
"'M glad we don't hafta separate for th' night, 'cause- don't- don't wanna really let go 'f ya yet."
"Me neither, 'cuore mio/mo chridhe'. -S' not time for sleep yet, an' *it's SUMMER* b'sides! Cuddlin' on one of our beds while watchin' a couple of musicals on a laptop sound good t' ye? We can order room service for additional fun..."
"That- That sounds *completely WONDERFUL*, 'Bastian 'tesoro'." Bath- Bathrobes 'r soft blankets?"
"The latter sounds nice an' cozy..."
"M'kay-!"
The rest of the night until they fell asleep in each other's arms was spent curled up under a couple of soft blankets in their nightclothes watching both 'Into the Woods' and 'Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street' while drinking hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and touched up with their preferred/favorite additional flavors (orange and cinnamon- Sebastian, peppermint and raspberry- Pinocchio) and nibbling cinnamon-sugar cookies, plus exchanging little or not-so-little kisses now and then when they weren't singing quietly along with the songs or reciting dialogue verbatim...
A couple of the lyrics crooned in Pinocchio's ear when the lines were sung onscreen, one tweaked:
~Sometimes people leave you
Halfway through the wood;
Others may *DECEIVE you*-
NO ONE leaves *for good*!
*You are NOT ALONE*-
Believe me,
*NO ONE is alone*...
Hard to see the light, now-
Just *don't let it go*;
Things WILL *come out RIGHT* now!
We can make it so...!
Someone IS on *YOUR side*-
*No one is alone*...~
~I *FEEL you*, Pinocchio;
*I feel you*...
I was not convinced I'd WAKENED,
Satisfied enough to dream you;
*Happily*, *I was MISTAKEN*,
Pinocchio...!
Did you think that WALLS could *hide you*??
Even now, I'm at your window;
I am in the dark beside you,
Buried sweetly in your raven hair...
*I FEEL YOU, Pinocchio*-!
And one day,
*I'll steal you*...
'Til I'm with you then,
I'm *with you THERE*,
-*Sweetly buried in your raven hair*...!~