[Are they just gonna snuggle on the floor? Yeah, maybe. Maybe they are. So what? It's a free country. It's their house. Fight them about it. He curls up, getting a little more comfortable in his position of "flopped".]
My hugs are always worth it. And so are yours, even if they are sometimes a little lethal.
[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.
[His father is a merciful man, considerate of his son's perfect hair and also perfect everything. His father is, in fact, nearly as perfect as Giorno himself. Truly together they are too perfect.]
You should just carry me everywhere, I think. That way I can be as tall as everyone else around here.
You have to just accept there's one person in the whole world you can't always charm. Which is pretty good odds, actually. Most people can't do it at all to anyone.
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[He looms over his beautiful, perfect papa, a solemn look on his face.]
You were a hero today.
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I should get a medal. An award. A hug.
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[No one. Giorno is not that big. But still.]
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Worth it.
[--he wheezes, and pats Giorno lightly on the back.]
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My hugs are always worth it. And so are yours, even if they are sometimes a little lethal.
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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.
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[His father is a merciful man, considerate of his son's perfect hair and also perfect everything. His father is, in fact, nearly as perfect as Giorno himself. Truly together they are too perfect.]
You should just carry me everywhere, I think. That way I can be as tall as everyone else around here.
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[It isn't a no. Just a problem thoughtfully posed for his son-don.]
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[So breezy.]
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You're gonna tell me about exercising?
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[Listen. Son. You are not the first relative who liked to be picked up; he knows the pitfalls of this.]
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I can't believe you don't love me enough to carry me in your arms.
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[How very dare you? He just nearly killed you with his love, don't doubt it.]
It's a matter of tactics! Planning! I want to be able to carry you all day!
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[whimpers . . . desolately . . .]
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You're going to get spoiled if I keep this up, but I just can't say no to that face.
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[Yeah, that's right: heh. Heh.]
I win. [|3]
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[He tips his head up again, eyes narrowing.]
Don't be smug. That's not cute.
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[sparkles cutely]
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[He has endured baby sisters. He can withstand this adorableness.]
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[frowns]
[SPARKLES MORE???]
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You're very cute, loulou. But it doesn't work on me.
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[He sags pathetically, leaning against Polnareff's hands in despair. Again.]
How do I cope with this?
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[He flops back over, lying on Polnareff's chest. What a dismal life he lives.]
You're still charmed by me sometimes, right?
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