[If anyone needs the kitchen, they're out of luck. Polnareff settles in, fingers drifting idly over Giorno's back. He'd push his fingers through his hair, but it's not yet nighttime; god forbid his son be seen with mussed hair.]

Full of love. I've never smothered anyone with my hugs, except you, maybe, just now, but even that worked out. You oughta be grateful, all these muscles mean I can pick you up whenever you want.