#kanenefic

Which leaded the poor, almost giggling, adult to his current state: hiding behind his room’s door and wishing with all his will power that this plan would really worked as well as it had when he watched in the cartoons.

 (He tried to ignore the voice in his mind reminding him how all that chases usually ended up in the end, the thought only being enough to heat his face.)

 - Émile ~ - It was in days like this that one wearing glasses could swear that Remy was a witch. Because there wasn’t any other realistic, rational and plausible explanation about how much the giggles trapped in his throat got louder, bouncier and even more difficult to control just with the slight sound of his voice, obligating their owner to press his hand further around his mouth, lightly biting the tip of his tongue. – You had better hide well, because you know what is gonna to happen when I find you, don’t you?

 Émile shook his head, his back forcing itself on the cold wall.

 Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

 - Oh, gurl, maybe you don’t even remember anymore… Now, we can’t fusion like this, can we? Let’s me remind you, then. ~ - The chased hold a pouty whine when heard these words, already feeling the beginning of a blush spread in his neck. Remy knew very well how teases could be as unbearable and unnerving as the tic… I mean, The Thing. – First, I will carry you aaaaall the way back to the couch and maybe my fingers will slip in tweaks and squeezes all over your hips, who really knows, ya know? But you better don’t squirm that much, because then I will have no escape but be obligated to bring my other hand to better hold you and just hope that this one is not more slippy then the first, right?

 Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

 - And then: The couch. Nothing different will happen there, really. I will just lay down with my extremely ticklish, helpless husband to take a nap, and, if my glorious lips will be random blessing your incredibly sensitive neck with a lot of Goodnight Kisses and my hands will keep lightly scratching, squeezing and poking all the length of your sides, sometimes even giving a little attention to your hips, because no way in hell I will be sleeping in a hard pillow, it’s none of your business, giggly boi. – Émile couldn’t help nor stop the pitched squeal that escaped from his mouth, eyes widening and breathing immediately stopping, the others giggles also begging to escape. - Oh, and, by the way, better keep your mouth very shushed while this. We don’t want the Tickler Master waking up, am I right?

 Silence.

 Remy’s nonchalant tune still full filling the air, which didn’t carried the sound of his steps anymore. The cartoon lover knew there was no way for him to save himself and, in a surrender act, just let his high, excited giggles run happily across the room hiding his face in flames behind his tremble hands. Seconds later, he heard the sound of his door being closed and his hide spot exposed.

 - But we both know that you just can’t contain yourself, my so poor, so defenseless lee. – Émile playfully screamed as he was lifted up in the air, quickly being carried in bridal style. He opened his eyes enough to see Remy in a bat of eyes deviating his glare from his form, the tender smile taking pieces of seconds before changing to an evil grin, fingers suddenly tweaking his kneecaps and hips, leading the carried to jump, a squeal signaling the flow of giggles that followed it.

 - Please, Remy, please!! – Each new squeeze was a snort interrupting his words, making him try to start again only to get the same result and repeat the cycle all over, resulting in a more helpless babbling than anything else. The said stopped, adjusting his hold in order to sneak his thumb in that damn spot right between his shoulder blades, switching between kneading and prodding while leading to an even more no-understandable sentence. - No there, no there, no there!!! Pleasepleaseplease-

 - Huh? Whatcha you are trying to say, hun? That I’m the most handsome husband in the entire world? That you are so sensitive that only a few squeezing and prodding are enough to transform you in a blushy, laughing mess? – The one being held felt his laughter increasing, the words spreading tingles in all his others ticklish spots, even the ones which weren’t being attacked. He shakes head, denying. – Is that you love all these teases and specially when I tickle tickle tickle you? Huh? Use your words, babe.

  – Nonononono! – Émile arched his back just to find another attack to his hips, bucking the said as Remy buzzed his fingers in the exact point where his sides and hips connected, and generating loud crackling as response. – You a- nah! You are mean mean mean!! – His arms danced to a place to another, too much occupied with the crazy sensation to really focus in stopping it, Remy increasing his efforts in order to make the snorts start to bloom amongst his laughter and squeals, no needing too much to succeed. – Remy!!!

 - Yes, gurl? Geez, you should love my name. It seems like you can’t even spent a whole real minute without saying it! – His tune was still nonchalant. However, he leaned down for a heartbeat in order to steal a peck from his beauty, giggly and cute as fuck, husband, who obtained a new shade of red creeping down his neck. Nooooice. – Anyway, what did you wanna tell me? Be quick, I still having a lot of places to knead, scratch, scribble, wriggle… This whole ‘Tickle your extremely ticklish husband, like, really, reeeeeally ticklish, like seriously, this guy is a whole tickle spot himself, a alive version of Tickle Me Elmo, and, when he became a helpless mess just tease him more and more until the big, rational, Émile Picani turns in just a poor, so poor, blushy lee.

 - REMY!!

 - What? Can’t handle the truth? Boo-hoo, then.

 Émile didn’t answered, unless you considered his fast, absolutely incoherent, stumbling words a kind of response, choosing to clench is hands in his shirt and hide his face in flames, instead. His laughing being so strong that reverberate through the attacker’s chest, who couldn’t stop feel like a villain as he stared with a gigantic grin adorning his lips the ribs that such act let defenseless. Well, he internally shrugged as he took a deep breathe, suit himself. His arms were growing tired anyway.

 Émile thought he was going to melt in any moment, the teases still heating his sensitive skin and increasing the tickles in a way that should be definitely illegal, but in the moment he felt the raspberry, spreading, taking over his nerves and T I C K L I N G he died.

 And screamed, for sure. Oh, and also gripped something while kicked and trashed as if Mabble’s life was depending on it (not his own life, of course, since he was already dead). Some part of his desperate brain noticed he was falling, but the laughter exploding from his mouth and the impossible to ignore feeling quickly expelled any other thing.

 He opened his eyes, breathless as his watery vision focused in the form mostly layed onto him, their giggles flying and filling the entire room. After some heartbeats, Remy finally got up, his hands resting on the floor and sustained the weight of his body. Their eyes met.

 - I’ve forgot how much of a kicker you are. – Émile just curled up a little more, pulling his tongue out in a very mature and hard to win, statement

 - ‘s not my fault your arms are weaken than Deadly Arms’ ones.

 - Excuse you?

 - Nuh.

 - I beg your heck pardon?

 - No, you let me fall for you. Twice. In love and on the floor. I’m ignoring you until the end of ours married days.

 - Oh, is that so? – Remy replied, adjusting his position so his hands would lay each one in the sides of his husband’s head, who immediately recognized the smile beginning to shine and exploded one more time in a flow of giggles, his arms in front of his body, attempting to conjure a kind of shield.

 - Wait wait waitwaitwait!! Nonono! – A yelp cut his sentence when a hand tweaked his thigh. - I’m sorry, I’m sorry!

 - Yep, gurl, you will b- And his threat was interrupted when Émile pushed his shirt and connected their lips, stealing his words, breath and any and every coherent thought from his head, his giggles still floating from his mouth, which leaded, if that was even possible, to the coffee lover melt further, allowing himself to be carried away by the tenderness and love, sighing and deepening the kiss.

 …Until that dirty, evil, nasty cheater digs his fucker fingers in his damn stomach, which ruined the romantic moment and absolutely did NOT made Remy Tough Picani release a half shriek half snort that DIDN’T resulted in the only one wearing glasses coos softly, excuse you.

 - Awww. – Émile gave him an innocent smile, quick turning the tables and sitting on Remy’s legs, his fingers swinging in a dance that consisted in craving his thumbs right above his waistline and vibrating his others fingers in his torso, the maddening sensations culminating to free, belly laughter escape from the ‘victim’s’ mouth. Eyes tightly closed, wrinkled nose. – What is the matter, my dear? The cool, bad boy Remy can’t take some ti-tickly tickle tickling in his tummy-yummy-yummy? Huh? Huh? Can’t he? Because he is super hype dyper sensitive, aren’t you? Yes, you are! You are!

 - OH MY GOD, SHUT UP!! – Remy could feel his face, against his own will power and threats, melt in flames. His laughter being replaced by hysterical giggling as his husband changed his technique to spidering, slowly walking his fingers up before quickly drag his nails in random patterns the way down, going up and down one time more and after that a couple more of times, always managing to catch four or five snorts. – THIS IS SO DUMB, FUCK.

 - Now, now, Mister Ticklish Master. Let’s not be a Squidward to the Tickle Monster, alright? He just wanna to hear aaaaaaall that adorably, lovely, helpless giggles of yours!! – Émile lowered down and touched their noses, his smile increasing as he felt the other’s laugh hitting his cheeks, his tune now in flying in joyful whispers. – And what a cute laughter you have! Definitely the most lovely, sweet and favorite lee of the Tickle Monster!

 - ‘m not- ‘m not cuteyourbi-nOPLEASENOTTHERE- His words stumbled in each other, specially when his shirt was lifted and a finger began to squirm and scratches his bellybutton, his legs now kicking while his hands tried to get enough strength to stop the marvelous move. However, exemplary falling as the attacker focused some quick prodding in the exposed axillaries, receiving what was suppose to be an angry snort. Émile couldn’t help but coo one more time. – I’M. NOT. – He couldn’t help the squealing cutting his sentence. - CUTE. FUCK OFF!

 Émile made a soft sound of sadness, pouting even if his husband was still with his eyes tightly closed, unable to see it.

 - Now, it’s a pity that you don’t believe in the words of your own husband. – He switched to lightly scribbles and pokes at his sides and lower ribs, making sure to rub circles in each one of them while also gave his ‘victim’ some room to breathe and understand his words.

 - Well… maybe, maybe he would… – Remy tried, really tried to frown and looks angry, but that was really hard with the giggles still interrupting his words. His body melting in the gentle, good touch. Totally against his will, for sure. - ... if his husband wasn’t being a jerk and tickling him.

 He stared directly at Émile, therefore he didn’t lose the slightest which red freckled his cheeks, smirking, wobbly that is true, but also proudly in being the only between both who managed to say ‘tickle’ without shuttering. Sadly, though, he also didn’t lose the way his eyes and smile widened, showing that the other had an idea.

 Butterflies started to panic in his stomach, especially when Émile’s gaze focused there with a ratter crazy gleam, his next phrase coming out as a soft, dangerous purring.

 - You know… all of this made the Tickle Monster a bit hungry… and he heard that some lil lil lee has a very yummy yummy tummy right here. – His hands squeezed his belly, as if to prove his point. Remy jumped, the adrenaline running all speed across his body as the words starting to weight in his brain.

 - Wait, WAIT! Émile!!! – The one being called slowly moved towards his target, ignoring the squirm and pleas from his husband, who grew more and more desperate as his attacker innocently smiled and looked at him, his head gradually lowering to his most ticklish spot. – Émile, Émile, please, I’m actually begging you. I’m begging you!! I’m cute, see? I said it!!! Émile!!!!

 - I’m listening. ~

 - No, you’re not! – His euphoric, hysteric giggles already began to take over his sentences. – No! Fuck!!

 - No? – Émile’s lips already were resting on his belly, the word sending shivers across his nerves, which was not helped by the fact that the other absently shook his head, demonstrating his saying.

 - No! No!

 - A no to ‘no’? So that is a yes?

 - nO.

 - No? But what about the ‘yes’?

 - Stop it! Oh my gosh, I’m gonna to get a bitching divorce!! It’s a no to your yes!

 - Got it! It’s a ‘no’, then?

 - Yes!

 - A yes? Okay!

 Before any other protest could fly from his mouth, a shriek did it first. And again. And again. And one more time, almost as fast as the nuzzled raspberries buzzing and the nibbles, together with the ‘nhom nhom nhom’s’ sounds, spread and madly tickled in a total oblivion to his kicks, pushes and loud, thunderous laughter painting the air.

 It didn’t took too much before the cartoon lover stopped, already aware of the other’s limits, and touched their foreheads again, Remy’s breathing and reminiscent giggles being the only thing breaking the silence which involved them in a calm, cozy, warm feeling.

 - You don’t look at me like that, your traitor. – His tune was free of any harm, his bright gaze and blushed cheeks locking his attention. Émile couldn’t help himself but kiss the pout out of his face. – And don’t you dare to kiss me. – Quick kiss. - I don’t trust in your sweet lips anymore. – Soft kiss. – They are a hell of a trap. – Giggly kiss.

 - I love you.

 Their eyes met, one more time, and Remy finally gave up, swimming in that deep, caring moment. Their hands intertwined themselves.

 - I love you, too. – He lightly poked Émile’s ribs, winning a yelp before receiving the same treatment. – But only sometimes.

 - Uh huh.

 - What? It’s the truth!

 - Sure it is, dear.

 Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

- Are you sure that we can’t have puppies to represent your happy pappy Pawtton, kiddo?

 Logan groan in distance, Patton’s smile just increase, don’t lasting much before becoming a small pout when Roman just shook his head, concentrated eyes flying everywhere, wandering among options and possibilities that none of them could see.

 - I would love it, my dear Padre. – A bit of a grin shined his features, maybe due the pun from the parental side or the incapacity of the same to hide his enthusiasm and literally, yet slightly, beaming in his tip toes. However, his expression quickly changed to a thoughtful one. – But it for best all of us keep alive beings far away from thi- OH YES, EUREKA! – Jump, victory pose, bold smile. – The perfect idea!!! Patton, sink out!!

 The cat lover did what said. Creativity’s representation rubbed his hands and made some arms stretches, fingers wiggling and each piece of himself radiating pride for his brainstorming, especially in the cocky grin directed to the aspect behind the holophote, who stared back with the best angry frown, his song blastering through the room even with his headphones on.

 - VIRGIL, YOUR TIME HAS ARRIVED!! LIGHT, CAMERA AND ACTION!

 - I don’t have any idea of how the heck you guys manage to drag me into these things. – The grumpy, acid reply was followed by the bright of the object being turned on and direct towards the painted circle. Roman, finally summoned, not before his usual series of flourishes and magic gestures, a weak tornado of stunning, although velvety, colors, which swirled fastly enough to transform its entirety in a dance of senses, however slow enough to be able for who watched to differentiate between each one of the feathers with a little bit of concentration.

 - PATTON, COME UP!

 The problem in conjurations: You can’t always have the best control over the things created due this. Get this fact together with an embodiment of the moral and feelings excited in a way to not remember the exactly place where he should reappear and very much probably your result will be a high pitched squeal of a poor unfortunate Patton as he felt a bunch of feathers get into his shirt and immediately fell in the ground, too much occupied with his squirming only increasing the feeling of the fluff objects spinning across his stomach and sides in light strokes causing unbearable tingles in every place it touched (and tickled) to really notice that, in consequence of his move a large part of the others feathers speeded thought the place without any control and having a really fond spot to explore any infinitesimal possibility to run into any researchable shirt and the ticklish bodies that it covered.

 - No! NononononononO!!

 They were really suave sensations, but at the same time so impossible to ignore that in only a few seconds after the ‘explosion’, the others three sides followed Patton’s lead and rolled, squirmed, kicked on the floor, seeking to expel the tickly feathers that danced, floated and swirled in every sensitive spot that they managed to find.

 - NahahahaHAHAHAHAHahahahaha!! – Virgil shrugged, struggling to protect his neck from some of the ones that insistently dragged themselves from the shell of his ear, slowly wiggling to the base of his neck, focusing some mean strokes there before making all the way up one more time, and then one more and one more and one more, just caring to change to the other side or deviating their attention to concentrate in the spot right under his chin, getting few mixes between squeaky muffled snort and the low giggles flying from the huge smile, so rare, which took over his lips. – ROHOHOHOHOHOHOHOMahahahahaahahah!! – His hands went up in the attempt to do something before immediately going down when he felt two feathers get into his sleeves, quickly went dangerously close to his armpits. – Ihihihihihi gohohohohohohna to KILL – Squeak, squeak, squeak. – YOHOHOHOHOHOU! NAHAHAHA!

 - Nohohohohohohoho! Ple-hehehehe-pleHEHEHEASE! – Patton knew, deep in himself he really knew, that it was useless to beg to inanimate beings mercy. Albeit, in the exactly instant three of the fluffiest, tickliest feathers he even felt in his whole life found his unfairly, extremely sensitive bellybutton, the tip of them digging and carefully spreading the tickles equally in its walls, sometimes even slipping to the unprotected skin outside the tickle spot, spinning and spinning nonstop. - NOT THEREHEHEHEHEHE! NahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! - He didn’t care if they could hear or even understand him, specially when his trashing pushed his shirt up and in the same second four others feathers, two using their quill and two their fluff part, traced the entirety of his waistline, exploding a shriek between his loud, belly (pun inserted) laughter.

 - ROHOHOHOHomahahahaan!! – Some few feathers manage to brutally attack his armpits in gentle strokes, leading Logan to maintain a strong grip of his hands in his hair strays, even if that meaned let enough space to the diabolic tickly tools dance in spirals into the sensitive skin, liberating electric shivers that got more unbearable every time they got in the middle of his pits and made all the reverse way back only to repeat the pattern a couple more of times again, just because he knew it would be worse if he let his instincts take over and low his arms. The single thought of the attackers stuck in his armpits being enough to make a blush burn in his features and his ticklishness increase as his arms trembled as his will power. - Mahahahahahahake it STOHOHOHOHOHOP!! – However, when he felt the quills starting to poke and draw whatever thing a feather would knew draw in every inches of not only his pits, but also his upper ribs and biceps, leading his laughter to rose some octaves and his eyes close tightly, as if this would help to ignore the feeling, the usually serious and rational side really thought in just give up and fall into the same beg technique as Patton.

 - It isn’t uhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhunder my cONTROHOHOhohohOL – The prince kicked as a large amount of feathers got into his pants and now focused in happily, quickly scribble and flutter around his calves, his fight only leading them to spread and therefore research a bigger area, as well as it gave new spots to satiate they curiosity, for example the skin extremely susceptible to soft touches behind his knees which made a loud, uncontrollable laughter escape from his mouth. – At least NOT ANYMOHOHOHOHOHORE!! – And then squeals took over his vocal chords, especially when, for instinct, Roman hugged his legs and trapped some feathers which now angrily wiggled behind his knees and seemed to make all the others tickle-attack with full force and speed, resulting to their creator to unfold himself and trash before the sensation become unbearable again and he hugged his legs, all the cycle repeating, again.

- Absolutely not. Any and every point can be crucial in a competition.

 Okay, let us recapitulate: Thomas has a crush and of course, the sides would take advantages of this. No long time ago, it has been proclaimed in all the Mind Palace the start of the ‘Love Games~’ what is, primarily, a series of challenges where who blushed first lost the match and a specifically amount of points (depending of the difficult of the challenge), however, it was possible to recapture or accumulate more points doing random flustering action through the day, as gifts, flirts, carts… anything that leaded the features of the victim be set in flames. Patton and Roman ganged up to explain how much this activity could be essential in order to help to build self-love and the others sides simply couldn’t find something to deny it.

 (Actually, Virgil could think in a great bunch of reasons why all of this could being a very bad idea, but now, think about it and convince them to stop when this competition would mean Free Crofters to Logan, Free Praises to Roman and just Patton showing them all the love he could give was a totally different story. Without telling that he would do anything to see Janus becoming a flushed mess and part of himself was kind of curious to see if someone would succeed in making the Gremlin Boy blush.)

 And, being really sincere, the one wearing hoodie was impressed with how much all the Light Sides matched with the Others in being competitive, until this day Roman already had made five serenates, Patton obtained a good amount of points only with his gifts and zero notion of personal space, Janus got almost everyone with his ‘Appear from absolutely nowhere, grabs your chin, stares intensely, grins, kisses your forehead and go away’ and Virgil kept himself well with his victories in the commons challenges. The embodiment of Flight or Fight instinct have no idea about what Remus was preparing, but as it seems Logan was trying to get in the ranking beginning and winning Flirt Wars.

 - Albeit, I believe you are correct. I’m not even ticklish for this saying.

 Virgil almost fell of the other’s bed with the astonished laughter that escaped from his lips.

 - I choose to ignore your mocking, thank you. – Pointed Logan, his voice in slightly traces of irritation.

 - Mocking? – The one wearing hoodie gave a half spin, sitting normally in a blink of eye. – I’m just laughing about something that clearly is a lie.

 - I think this is an information that doesn’t belong to you.

 Virgil scoffed, rising one eyebrow as he rested his chin in his hand.  

 - I am not ticklish!! – Logan repeated, feeling a bit childish with the tune chosen to defend himself, or perhaps it was the turn this conversation was taking.

 An evilly grin, a bit alike the Cheshire Cat, darkly gleamed in the other’s feature.

 - So you would mind a little… experiment, am I right?

 The logical aspect gulped, adjusting his tie and deviating their glare for a piece of moment.

 - A-absolutely no.

 Fingers quickly found way to his neck, scratching so lightly that barely touched his skin, going up, circling that exact spot behind his ears and appreciating the surprised squeal that floated from Logan’s mouth before focusing some special wriggles in that place. However, don’t taking too much before going down fluttering towards under his chin and in the base of his neck the best he could with the other shrugging and ducking his head in a hope to stop his big wobbly smile to be seen. Movement which also prevented the ‘not ticklish’ one to notice one of Virgil’s hands to travel to his back, being quick in landing spidery tickles in his lower back, sometimes slipping to give his ribs some pokes and prodding, something that finally bring up the babbled giggles to the daylight.

 - -Nahahahahahahahaha!! Viihihihihihihihirgihihihihil!! – And he squirmed, the sensation being as unbearable to ignore as too much good to escape. It was almost… relaxing. In a very electric way.

 - Tsc. – The anxious aspect let go a chuckle, still not believing in how the scene unfold before his eyes, albeit absolutely hypnotized with how the high squeaks and snorts intertwined the low giggles from the usually so contained side. Virgil’s thumbs applied a light pressure in the other’s spine, the attacker smugly watching how this leaded to a gasp as Logan jumped and arched his back, quickly starting to knead and buzz his fingers in each one of the ‘victim’ vertebras, following all the way up, totally unbothered by the, now very much increased, squirming. – And who would say that the embodiment of rationality just need some few tickles to become a helpless, giggly puddle, huh?

 - Shuhuhuhuhuhut uhuhuhACK!!! – The purple lover found a particularly sensitive space between his shoulder blades, being responded by Logan’s loud, and endearing childish, laughter as its owner struggled more to be free from the malefic, tickly fingers, obligating Virgil to wrap an arm around his waist and without mercy squeeze his hips in random, quick patterns. – NonononHOHOHOHOHO! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHE-

 - But what is the matter, Logan? – His voice was a whisper, although not only because it sent shivers down his victim’s spine, but also because he wasn’t really certain that the one with glasses could really hear him in any other way with how much he trashed and crackled, as it seems these two spots being one of his most sensitive ones. – Didn’t you just said you aren’t ticklish? – He gave him a break, going to his ribs in spidering, soft tickles, being sure to surprise Logan now and then with sudden pokes between them. Logan used the opportunity to breathe more evenly, even with the giggly fit and flames that took over his body. – But…no! Maybe you were lying? Perhaps this… - The grin in his lips was almost perceptible in his low tune, the words slowly rolling over his tongue as he digged into his armpits and got a surprised yelp as answer, the giggles getting louder and switched to laughter as its owner shook his head, denying. – can tickle tickle tickle tickle you silly?

 The ‘I’m always serious, necktie!’ clapped his arms at his sides and hided his red face and wide smile in his hands. Virgil felt the grin painted in his face only get bigger. Now he was just making this too much easy.

 The one wearing hoodie took a deep breath and released a raspberry right on his poor, forgotten and defenseless neck, the vibrations hitting every single one of his ticklish nerves and leading to a serious shriek to run from Logan’s mouth.

 - VIRGIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIL!!! NAHAhahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHahahahaHA!! – Logan squirmed until finally escaped and fell in the bed: butterflies flying in his belly, smile from an ear to another, remain giggles, watery, shiny eyes and… a blush that painted his entire face.

 - Thank you for the new score, mister ‘I’m not ticklish’~ - Virgil teased as laid comfortably whilst the mattress, crossing his arms and using them as a pillow while closed his eyes and ignored Logan’s annoyed grumble.

As he said before: Not even a drop of heroism.

 The soft, warm pile moved some time later as the prince emerged from it, not completely healed, but at least a little better after the nap he had. His hand moved with a flourish in the air, summoning Crofter’s, because he was addicted to this jelly after the musical video, and started to eat, feeling his face getting dirty with his own clumsy actions already inserted in his being.

 Jelly on his face, messy hair, tired, sleepy eyes… Yep, definitely these were the ‘royal days’ which any Fairy Tale ever utter. None chapter mentioning, explaining how were the thousands of days in the tower waiting, dreaming; not a page dedicated to the lonely afternoons wandering through the forest in seek of a beauty lady with skin pale as snow, or even some phrases about the months surrounded and arrested in himself that Maui had to struggle and neither three or four verses about all the sleepless nights watered in guilty that the Beast had gone through.

 Perhaps, it was because in the end…

 - Nobody cares that much. - The words sounded even tougher when left his lips and Roman felt himself squirm as if it had inflicted a physical blow. He shook his head, knowing very well the bottomless well he was burying himself into.

 He took a deep breath and opened the desk drawer picking up the old-looking folder, with a single draw of a feather outlined with glitter in its cape. He leaned on the bed’s headboard and opened the emergency folder for ‘heroic moments not so heroic of life’ as he liked to call it.

 There were all that intimate stories. The ones we do just for ourselves. The arts in which we are inserted in the world that we chose in the way we wish… Stories with a plot very much deeper that the one traced on papers and the chats and scenes which that had already been turned over, reinvented and transformed again and again and again in the mind of the creative aspect. Took a good sip of air and released slowly in the paper with doodles at the edges. The traces and dialogues started to float from them and dance in the wind, recreating, reorganizing and materializing themselves in the characters, places and contexts previously determined. His trace was light and clear, seeming to flow slightly and naturally with the wind as his room began to take a form of a magnificent forest.

 Roman observed the stories unfold before him, sporadically remembering the jokes he had written much longer ago and the trail each action leaded the character. He remembered also the ideas he had when wrote every single one of these words and how much happy he was just by the simple fact he was putting them on lines, without even realizing it Roman found himself with a small smile finding way to his features along with some salty drops pioneering trails down his cheeks and his hand centimeters away from the holograms, doomed to his destiny of always being capable to have any scenario, character and plot at his fingertips, but nothing more than that.

 His not so optimal thoughts were pulled out of him when laughter and teasing cut the place and almost automatically made a pleasant shivers ran across his body. Now a real smile took over his face without he even noticing it, his eyes attentive to every detail of the protagonist being pinned in the floor and attacked by his other two friends.

 Not a common attack, of course, because Roman could be anything but ‘common’. That, as the majority of the stories, which were in that folder, was a story developed around… tickling.

 So, nothing more fair than the principal character, being the hurried and naturally inattentive adventurer who he was (and because in the last day he had a problematic night) didn’t noticed that, when he went to land the ship he forgot to do the necessary procedures before it (he would need to question Logan about the functions from a ship’s painel control later) and because of that the automobile suffered severe damage by the time it hit the ground. Then, nothing more fair than, while the ship was being repaired, both of his best friends tickled him by the same amount of time (which, sure, was a lie, because they would stop immediately when noticed his ‘victim’ had researched his limit. However, the merely possibility of that happens and the teasing they directed towards him about this only made the entire situation more ticklish and playful.)

 (What? It was like said: the thing put on the paper is only the beginning of the whole iceberg behind the plot.)

 When a story was over, the words returned floating to the paper where they belonged, the scribbles being again fixed, and then Roman took another one and brought it to life, sometimes closing his eyes in order to concentrate even more on the laughter and try to visualize fingers dancing in his most ticklish spots.

 Just the thoughts about it leaded to ghost sensations ran across his entire spine. The papers fell with each story that ended and floated gracefully to the ground, because, later he would busy himself with the task of tidying up all that mess.

 Later.

 (~*~)  

He left his room, already having organized it and saved his little folder back to its original place (one story was missing, probably lost in some corner of his forest. He would care about this another day, though. He was tireeeeeed.). He was interrupted some quick times by Thomas seeking to discuss new goals and dreams they could perceive in the next moths and someday in the future, which made him to be late for the dinner and, consequently, his entire routine after meal, and it was for that reason which at ten at night the aspect of passion and creativity was washing his clothes for the next video, that may or may not would be in the morning. Something which made him almost pray to not rain in the next day so he wouldn’t need to take his vestments to dry in the forest in his room. 

 Since it was almost IMPOSSIBLE to find anything by own will and not literally tripping over them (Not that this ever happened before with his teddy bear which went there to take some sunlight after a particularly strong storm in the Mind Place. Pffff. Of course not. Prince doesn’t stumble, or have teddy bear neither!! Who told you that??)  in that indomitable world just as the creativity...

 Wait…

 Ah, that was why this world was his room and he is the aspect of creativity and… aaahh! Now the things made sense...

 My goshly gosh, now he was beginning to look for logic in the pieces of his routine. OK. Red alert. Abort Mission! Sad days made him WAY too philosophical and like Logan. Abort Mission!

 His foot leaded him to the living room, letting the washing machine do its job, his mind in a battle to decide which Disney to watch and which ones had duration just a bit longer than the washing process. His eyes landed in the television and his body froze for a piece of second.

 “Reasons to smile today”

 That's what the paper stuck to the device's screen said. It was a notebook’s common paper, the words scribbled a bit stronger than the necessary amount, however this wasn’t the cause of the guardian of dreams and passion stop in the way to his happiness.

 And yes what that phrase meant.

 It was a Logan’s idea (amaze!) which emerged in a particularly difficult period for Thomas.

 It was really simple, to be honest: every day all the sides got together, more specifically in the breakfast, and told at least one reason to smile and look forward that day. Usually it was Patton who listed more than half of the reasons in almost every meetings, them being memories, peoples or places, e that constantly managed to rip out a good smile and that warm, cozy feeling in their chest.

 But, when the moral aspect was feeling too much down for the activity, Roman always jumped with a good future, those where all their dreams were accomplished, Logan always brought some good memories and neutral facts and Virgil always came with someone. One supported the other and vice versa.

 Those were really tough moments, nevertheless also were the moments which consolidated them as a famILY.

 The royal member held de paper, the entire room bathed in a silence in which he could swear to amplificate his heartbeats. It was possible to notice there was something written in the back of it, so he turned it.

 “Your unwavering courage.”

 The lights went off and two hands digged in his sides, a scream getting stuck in his throat and his reflexes to punch what touched him was equally restrained by THAT specific sensation.

 - NAHAHAHAHAHA! – His laughter was quick to fill each piece of the silent before installed in the place, his own hands swinging from left to right without really managing to do something, completely different from the ones which attacked him, each single finger mixing between wriggling, kneading, trembling and giving an extra special attention to every inch it could research. He quivered, his legs weakening with the flow of laughter. - WHOHOHOHOHOHOOHOHOHOHOHOHO I-I-IS - A particularly mean poke in his lowest rib made his voice to fail, a new shade of blush painting his features. - ACK! - An amused snort could be heard from behind him, the tickling fingers found the new sound interesting and now spent their time slowly spidering up and down his ribs. Light, quick and crazy tickles dancing and spreading with each touch. - nahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

 He knew this game, knew how to play it. He just needed to find out who was attacking him. Whilst his squirming, his hands tried to hold or touch anything from who was behind him. A hint. Any hint.

 Roman grabbed a wrist. It was uncovered, but there was fabric right behind it. Just one of them wore clothes long-sleeved - His thoughts seemed to run and vanish as fast as the squeaks and yelps between his hearty laughter - Just one of them wore vestments long-sleeved…

 The unknown wrist released itself from his hold, quickly deviating its attention to his upper ribs. His legs weakened and he fell in the ground, the tickling following all his moves and don’t stopping to attack him with light kneads and pinches, even with all his fighting.

 - Anahahahahahahahah-anahahahahaha!!! - His eyes closed in attempt to focus for the name slip already, but his laughter seemed to control all his breath and mind. -ANXIEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHETY! NAHAhahahaha!!

 The fingers slowed down, almost stopping, which allowed the aspirant of royalty finally take some deep quick, delightful breathes, his low and wobbly giggles intertwined with fast squeals being fed up by two index fingers that still poking and lightly teasing that exact spot that connect his armpits and ribs.

 - Thahahahahank Beyohohohohcé.

 - Tsc. - The purple aspect clicked his tongue and even though everything was bathed into darkness, Roman could perfectly imagine the expression in the other’s face. A sharp look. A marvelous smirk. Uh oh - We work with names here, Squeaky Princey.

 F U C-

 - Nononohohoho! wAHAHAHAHAHAIT- He even attempted to escape, sure, but was already giggling even before the hands came back to his sides in full speed. His laughter exploded from his lips, his legs and arms also dancing and struggling without any real effort and his eyes closing tightly.

 This jerk had told his name a few days ago and KNEW that none of them has get used to call him by that yet. He  k n e w.

 - YOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOUR STUHUHUHUHUUHUHUHP-NO! WHAHAHAHAHAHA-WHAHAHAHAHAIT!! - Snort. More high-pinched uncontrollable laughter. Squeal. More laughter. Did one of them belong to the emo side or did he imagined it? - LEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHET ME T-T-THIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHINK!!!

 Roman could feel the name in the tip of his tongue, somewhere between his loud and attention demanding crackles. Yes, right there, between his bright, mesmerizing smile and that warmth in his chest that seemed to spread through all across his face. He felt like would melt at any moment. Since when his smile could get this big?

 - VIRHIHIHIHIHIHIHIGIL!!! IT IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIS VIRGIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIL!!!

 - Ding ding ding. – The lights went on again and the royal aspect deposited his hands on the floor, his remain giggles flowing from his mouth as those butterflies and that cozy sensation kept flying in his stomach. - Strike.

 - Yohohohou will feel my rahahahahag- However, when he turned, blushed features and teary eyes, to see the fear in his enemy's face as he uttered his promise of vengeance, the prince only found nothing. A gigantic piece of void where the purple one should be standing. The sheet preserved itself in the ground, calm and plain, in the same position he had left it, as it mocked about all the mess that happened seconds ago.

 - Who are you looking at, subject? - But the sparkles in his eyes removed any heat of his words.

He went to the laundry and now headed to his room. Being completely honest, he didn't felt a single drop of will to sleep right now, the previous ‘attack’ continued as a mystery. Of course, they all were extremely close, but... tickles? It have been a long time since this artifice was used among them. It was something almost as old as that phrase or that game…

 Ok. Something was smelling really strange here.

 Maybe it was his new cologne which- No, wait, Roman! Focus, focus!

 Maybe it was…

 An adventure.

 And what kind of royalty he would be if he denied an adventure?

 Unsheathed his sword and kept his track to his room, confident and brave footsteps echoing in the hallway.

 A quick and muffled ‘thump’ could be heard from his room, which automatically activated all the instincts from the extra side, because of that, in a matter of few seconds the wooden object was already being thrown in the ground by a smiley Roman, who managed to support himself in the only feet that didn’t hurted, since apparently, knocking -ha!- a door down with one (or more, shhh) kick can have consequences (How he was supposed to know?).

 - BOW TO YOUR PRINCE AND MAY I DECIDE TO SPARE YOU! - His heroic pose was totally ignored, because the place was empty. His eyes analyzed each corner and each shadow, without really finding anything that give the slightest tip that any other life being beyond him even stepped there. 

 And then his gaze bumped in a shiny, polished black shoe, half completely hidden under his bed, making a danger joyful grin to spread in his features. All his shoes were Disney tematic and had their own day and outfit and any of them had this shade of black.

 (Maybe the Ursula’s one was the one that looked more like, but even with this in mind it was very distinguishable the difference between a dark-purple and a basic dark, please!)

 His footsteps leaded him quietly, a perfect contrast with all the shouting from pieces of time ago. He slowly bent down, prepared to grab the shoe and whoever was wearing it and…

 - HA! YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD TRICK M- Good point: The shoe came easily out. Bad point: it was because it was empty, which was the reason for his glorious victory statement being, and and very rudely by the way, interrupted. Roman indignantly scoffed; he refused to let the victory escape so easily through his fingers! He was the embodiment of dreams, persistence and hope and he. wouldn’t. give. up. so. easily!!

 Inflated by his own enthusiasm, the royal side knelt down, noticing only a paper on the floor in a place a little further under his bed. Just a little crawl was necessary to solve the problem, with a gleam of determination in his glare Roman firmly held the hint, excitedly bouncing his legs, the only part of his body that wasn’t covered by the furniture.

 "Your persistence and mind of an untamed nature."

 Before he could even process a bit more the meaning contained in the words, which apparently were a continuation from previous paper, the prince felt a strong arm embrace his ankles, his shoes being removed with a slowly calm that didn’t related with the adrenaline which exploded in himself and now across his arteries. His ‘mind of an untamed nature’ understanding exactly what was about to happen and finding zero ways to run away from his fate.

 - NO!!! Don’t you dare!! - One of his shoes fell with a muffled hit on the ground. - I-I… hehehe…! - Giggles began to took over his throat. His other shoe fell as well, a cold, excited shiver ran down his spine. - No!! - A finger lightly positioned itself in the exact center of his feet, all his nerves vibrated in expectation. - NononononNo!

 The finger started to scratched softly, its nail slided without a single bit of hurry across his feet in a move that went from the tip of his toes to his heel, just to add another finger in the movement and calmly repeat the pattern over and over and over and over… Until all his five stupid tickly fingers were tickling him.

 Roman tried to escape from the gap in his ankle, his eyes as tighten as his lips, refusing to brake his barrier.

 The one who ‘attacked’ changed his technique a few times, going from circular motions to quick scribbles, however, he hasn’t rewarded with more than some muffled squeaks and snorts from the other. The fingers moved away, giving Prince time enough to recover profusely his breath, almost don’t hearing the soft humming which filled the air for some little pieces of heartbeats.

 Roman already had the name in the tip of his tongue. The letter alone was enough of a clue, albeit… the possibility to finish with the playing caused a part of himself to quiver sadly. He didn’t wished to end with this moment… No… In truth…

 He didn’t wanted this feeling to end. A feeling that made him excited, electric, feeling like he could run fifty kilometers nonstop. This sentiment, which automatically produced a smile in his features and made he really believes, realizes that he was…

 Was loved.

 Perhaps it was this the reason that his mouth opened even before his brain processed his provocation, challenger tune that impregnated his next words:

 - Há! My dear enemy! Your faux fighting techniques would never be able to defeat a prince like mí! - The creativity side could feel the anticipation, the danger sign glowing in a bright red, and launched his final card: his cocky laughter (and extremely natural. Of course, he never trained hours and hour in a diversity of tunes and expressions in front of his mirror. Humpft. Of course not. That was one of princes’ natural gifts.) of victory.

 The same that was interrupted seconds after by the twenty nails that scratched the absurdly, extremely ticklish skin under his toes. Roman could swear that not even in his years of theater he managed to achieve this high tune.

 - Ohohohohoh! NohohohohohOHOHOHOhohohoho! – His head shook desperately, his legs bouncing and fight for their lives and freedom, his laughter, now breathless and full of half pleas of mercy, dancing through his room.

 A part of himself, one which wasn’t maddened with all this tickling, all the fingers that attacked merciless every little centimeter of his feet and his reverberated laughter, fought against his flight instincts, leading the whole scribbles, pokes and wriggles to find the minimum of resistance as possible (Not that the Tickler will ever know it, sure.)

 - PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEE - A nail found a very particularly sensible spot right under his big toe releasing a series of snorts and yelps throughout his already uncontrollable, wobbly laughter. The tickling was unbearable, but in a very different, more lightly, way than the previous attack, and that was making him crazy. - PleasepleasepleAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSEHEHEHE!! NAHAHAHAhahahahHAHAHAHahahahahaHAHAHAHA!!

 Roman persisted for a few more seconds, his entire body, despite the tickles being focused in just one place, squirmed. He only allowed the name to slip for his tongue when his laughter and giggles, it depended from the spot and apparently his ‘enemy’ wasn’t satisfied in choose just one, started to steal his breath. His hand hit the cold floor of his room.

 - LOGAN!!! IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIT IS Lohohohhohohohogan!!

 The tickles were decreasing until finally stop, making the tingles in his soles not as intense as the that took over his ribs and sides before in the living room. Roman, in the exact moment, which felt the gap in his ankle to weaken, pulled his feet closer, rubbing them.

 - Undoubtedly correct. - It could be his tickled mind pranking him, but the dreamer could swear he heard a hint of amusement in the other’s voice. It didn’t took longer for the prince to catch the characteristic sound of sinking, which resulted him quickly attempting to get out of under the bed to reach the one with glasses, after all, their battle hadn’t  ended yet!!

 - Wait right there! Don’t you freaking dare to- And, once again, his sentence was interrupted. Now for a little snort that flied from his lips when the logic aspect ran softly his fingers at his feet, making the prince to retract in defense, giving him time enough to disappear with a smirk, half joyful and half cocky, adorning his face.

 Roman really tried to be angry, but how much heated was his features and how much euphoric he was in the moment proved this action to be a little more difficult, which definitely wouldn’t aplacate his future revenge, of course.

 Now, though, his only plan was to take a shower and then sleep. For that he forced his tired body to get up and head his bathroom, part smiling and part yawning. He opened his door and stretched, feeling his bones to crack and muscles to relax.

 And then his gaze found the paper stuck in the mirror above his sink, his instinct screaming in a red alert for knowing very well the next step in this game.

 - NO! - Maybe it was the tiredness, however, before he could turn around to try to stop the attack a pair of hands hit in his armpits, something that made his legs automatically to fail and every and any coherent thought be tossed away from his brain to a far far away. The laughter already falling in great waterfalls from his mouth.

 - PAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHADREHEHE! - His real laughter, that specific one that only appears when his most ticklish spot is being attacked with the most ruthless tickles, was loud, thunderous  and definitely an easy sound to be noticed from miles away, Roman almost could feel his blush to spread across his neck just imagining Logan and Virgil smiling as heard him reverberate around the house.  – NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

 - Ooooooh? - Patton’s playfully tune would be definitely impossible to hear if he wasn’t so close of his ears, his words leading to even more tickles and shivers in the other. - It seems that our little pretty prince here is ticklish? Coothie coothie coo! Oh, no! What are you gonna do? Huh? Huh? What our powerful, brave Prince Roman will do to escape from the Tickle Monster? Huh? Huh? Kitty Kitty Coo! My dear and ticklish prince!!

 - NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO TEASIHIHIHIHIHIHIIHIHING, PAHAHAHAHAHATTON!

 The creativity’s embodiment trashed back and forth, his head shaking, perhaps in attempts to remove all the red in his face, maybe trying to dislodge those fingers that poked, kneaded, drummed and tickled every available skin they could research. Tears began to accumulate in the corner of his eyes,

 And, even with all his effort, his conscient parte still struggled against his instincts to escape and making him to get as close to the moral aspect as possible, almost laying on him.

 - But how could I ever stop when knowing that this give me access to all these cute squeals? - A poke in the right place and Roman exemplified his words. Patton giggled. - Not mentioning this wonderful and melodious laugher, Roman! It is adorable!!! - The paternal side seemed as happy as he did, the royalty aspirant could feel their laughter in harmony, and maybe (maybe, only!) his heart had melted a little. Or it was just his tears falling from his eyes, his mind was a mess, okay? Don’t ask for details nor logic.

 His laughter, high pinch squeals, snorts and breathless giggles endured for some more minutes before Roman pushed himself forward, laughing a plea to stop, which the one who wears cardigan promptly answered. They leaned against the wall, feeling the cold of the concrete aplacate the heat of the remaining giggles.

 For some seconds both stayed in silence, calming down.

 - Whahahat did you write?

 - Huh? - Patton blinked a few times, leaving his thoughts and staring the other with a stunning smile.

 - In the paper. I couldn’t read… And I expected a honest attack from you, padre! Attacking enemies from behind is very immoral!

 - Hehehehe! - Genuine smile, hands up as an act of surrender. - Anything goes in love and war.

 - Really bold words for someone so close from my fingers! - Roman showed an evil grin, punctuating each one of his words with pokes in the other’s belly, making him squirming in a sea of quick giggles, pushing his hands.

 - You stop right there, mister! - Protested, his glare assuming a paternal glint. - Tomorrow we have a video to record and we need to sleep early! Thomas will need his creativity radiant and rested!

 The prince whined, hands moving in exaggerated gestures and laying dramatically on the floor, following with his eyes as a smiling Patton stood up and pulled the paper from the mirror.

 - Ah! I wrote: ‘Your golden heart!’, but I think I should have written about your stories! - Roman felt his blood freeze, a quick flashback from the morning passing before his eyes. The holograms, flying scenarios, sheets falling, Thomas calling him to do something, the lost paper… - They’re amazing and give really ncredible ideas.

 His face suddenly looked as if it had been set on fire and for the first time in a long time the prince found himself speechless while the one with the glasses deposited the paper in his hands, kissed his forehead, wishing ‘Good night~’ before getting out, humming softly and disappeared from the other’s vision.

 Roman buried his face in his hands, grunting in frustration, which wasn’t too much easy to do when a smile from ear to ear looked to be stuck in his features.

 Yes, they had gave him a plenty of reasons to smile.

 Maybe it was for that reason that most of the stories didn’t told about these days, these moments… Perhaps because they were from such great and strong heroism that it was almost impossible to be entirely put in just one plot.

It was just that. Just fell. Just washed his so hurted soul, just showed the feeling which he so hard tried to not hide anymore, just poured in a flow that wandered through all his face until finally drop.

He tried to sniffle quietly, he really tried since he kept in mind that the bathroom wasn’t soundproof. However, he was the heart, the core of all the emotions, the guardian of feelings, for a reason. He lived them more intensely, felt them more immensely.

Albeit, he also knew the others sides were busy, so he had nothing to worry about. 

That was why he took all the time he needed, wanted. Half hour, one hour, one quarter of hour… It didn’t mattered. 

Patton didn't leave until the last drop fell.

The representation of morality got up, wobbly legs, took off his glasses and cleaned their lenses in his cardigan. He took deep breaths one, two, three times.

And a couple more.

He headed to the sink and washed his face, yet knowing that it didn’t changed in the slightest the swelling and redness which his features assumpted after cryings like that. He stared his reflection, an analysing glare. A few hours of funny cute videos would do. He would get some snacks in the kitchen when only his eyes still red and were easier to not be seen… Not that he wanted to hide it from the others, he just didn’t wanted to… show it.

And after all of this he would try to summon a night movie and sleep cuddling someone.

Yeah, he nodded to himself. This sounded to be ideal. A shadow of a smile appeared in his lips.

Patton turned around and opened the door, founding a Roman about to knock.

Their glares met in the same exact heartbeat, both equally astonished. Patton felt himself to paralyse before his instincts of flight took over, prompting him to quickly run back to the bathroom and lock himself inside.

Breathed in. Breathed out. In. Out. Repeated this movement three times more, seeking to calm his fast heartbeating and the adrenaline in his blood. He knew the other was still out there, knew that he would have questions and that he would have to explain himself, that he would have to let Roman into this complex mess who he was.

But he also would have comfort, would have company and human warmth and… affection.

He reminded the other’s look: scared, alarmed, worried.

Patton pinched the tip of his nose, adjusted his glasses and cardigan, took a deep breath and a part of him wondered if Roman was still out there.

He opened the door.

He was. 

Patton’s heart stopped, melting and the guardian of dreams and passion didn’t uttered a one single word, which was rare for him, only opened his arms in a gentle glare and a silent plead.

The moral aspect hugged him quick and strong, his hands holding the fabric of his shirt as tightly as possible and the tears he didn't even know were still there coming back.

The aspirant of royalty drowned in silence, his arms involving him entirely, a hand gently  stroking his back and the other lightly combing his hair. His chin rested in the other’s head as he hummed lowly a random song and rocked the parental figure with such tenderness too much pure to be described.

As sudden as it started the teary flow stopped, which didn’t meant the end of the hug or the careness, just the song, a few minutes later, which was switched by the velvety low tune from Roman. Patton was even more surprised.

- What happened, padre?

- Just that sudden sadness, you know, Ro-ro?

- I do.

Princey started to massaged his scalp and Patton felt all his muscles automatically relax; He let himself to be transported to some place and when opened his eyes, he was laid in Roman’s extremely soft and gigantic if compared to any other from the Mind Palace, bed.

- Now we shall watch a movie! - A flourish and a big television appeared in the wall at the same time dozens of sweets and snacks surrounded them. - Disney? Comedy? Action? Romance? Pixar? - The said shone in the device for a second before being replaced for another. The representation of creativity turned, a bright and nurturing glare, a smile which seemed to demonstrate all his love. - Today the choice is yours.

Patton felt more and more astonished every more second. Everything sounded too much strange. Everything seemed to much… unreal. He couldn’t help himself but feel as he was taking advantage of the other’s kindness, like he was forcing him to bear with a problem that wasn’t his. Usually things wasn’t like that, usually it was him who… who… took care of the others.

- Anyone you prefer, kiddo. - And a tiny smile opened in his lips. Something in him starting to becoming calm although the hurricane in his core.

- Oh, no, no. - Roman denied, getting a little closer. - Today the honor will be totally yours, my dear Patton. - Each word was punctuated with a kiss in Patton’s cheeks, who began to  giggle uncontrollably, feeling his face burn. - Consider yourself lucky.

How did all of this could be so strange and… No, more than strange, more than only different…

Good.

Patton giggled a little more, lightly bitted the tip of his tongue and thought a bit more.

- Maybe The princess and the frog?

- Your wish is an order!

In a few pieces of time the movie already played in the background.

The creativity’s representation got closer, inch by inch, until finally manage to involve the partner in his arms, rocking and leaning his lips in the other’s head before whispering.

- Thank you for letting me take care of you, padre. I know it’s not easy.

This made Patton wide his eyes and expand his heart further, if that was still possible. He held out his hands, intertwining his finger with Roman’s when he received his act.

- It’s just… normally I am the one who take care of you. - The royal aspect huffed, and Patton stroked his cheek, shiny gently eyes showing how much he loved his little ‘work’. - I am the dad, should be more stronger.

- You are strong!! - Roman immediately shouted, sounding offended. - Patton, you are the heart! The one who don’t matter the situation always try to give your best, even if that hurts you, even if that brings consequences we’re all afraid to accept… you always try to remain fair and right in your decisions! You manage to see the bright side of everything and everyone and always is there, even if your day also wasn’t the best.

His eyes began to tearing, and Patton felt a hand softly direct his chin up so that he could stare the glare full of determination and energy from the other.

- Patton, you deserve this and much more, okay?

He couldn’t stop himself from smiling, from letting out a few sheepish giggles. Roman’s tune became a bit more velvety.

- Okay, Patton?

- Okay. - And then embraced the aspect of passion and love, filling his face with thankful, lovely butterfly kisses and happy whispers.

It was almost in the part when Tiana went in search to recover her human form when the touch ended. Patton started to really get involved with the film's plot when a sensation almost made him jump through the ceiling.

Discreetly he looked at his tummy, finding Roman’s hands drumming his fingers on it and leading electric  sensations, something that made a involuntary smile be painted in his features, spread across all his body. The one in cardigan squirmed slightly, which didn’t stopped the motion.

The tickling were bearable, Patton decided, and he didn’t wanted to break this awesome bonding moment shared with the prince. He could endure until the end of the movie, for sure! It was almost in the middle, it was just a matter of time!

- Are you alright, Pat? You look a little agitated.

- I-it’s nothing, Ro-ro!

And practically jumped when the index finger found way to his belly button. Roman stared him with a raised eyebrow, but without really questioning something. The tickles stopped. The cat lover allowed himself to relax a bit more.

‘And what if he started to trace his fingers sloooooooowly through all your tummy?’

‘Not you, again.’

‘Imagine that nails scratching your sides!!! Tickling behind your ears while teasing you about your incredible tickliness…. Wouldn’t that be amazing?!’

‘Ah! Ah! Ah! What if he released small raspberries in each one of your ribs? Quick and small at the point you wouldn’t have the slightest idea where he would attack next! Ah!’

Patton controlled, again, his impulse to squirm and hide his, now very blushed, face in his hands. It only took a little stimulus and then it all went in a downhill!!

Now he desperately wanted some tickles.

His glance landed in the hand that remained resting perfectly calm in his stomach, absolutely unaware about the avalanche it had caused. That small voice continued to create the most random tickly scenarios in his mind, his face getting more and more in flames, his smile more uncontrollable and the movie more and more forgotten.

Maybe it was because of all his self inflicted anticipation that the one who wore glasses almost fell from the bed when a light feeling hit his foot, a inhuman squeak escaping from his mouth.

Roman paused the film, startled, quickly getting ready to face any danger that might threaten the welfare of his Pat-

And then he heard the laughter.

- Nahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!! Rohohohoho-rohohohoho!! Stahahaahahahahahahap!!! 

- But I’m not doing anything, dearest Patton. - The blossomed grin at the precious scene in front of him was easily perceptive in his voice. It didn’t took long to found the source of the ‘attack’.

His entire room was programmed to modificate itself as felt the most infinitesimal creative desire of someone, and, as it seems, this someone’ was the guardian of feelings, that is why now two soft gloves softly danced their fingers in the other’s foot, going from the heels to the tip of his toes again and again and again regardless Patton’s kicks, freeing all the kind of giggles.

- RohohohOHOHOHOHOHohohoho!!! – The moral aspect cutely squirmed in his arms, a gigantic smile adorning his face, wrinkled nose and his voice filled by the snorts and high pinch squeals.    – NHAHAHAHAHAHahahahahahahahaha!! He-he-HEHEHehehehehehehehelp!!! – And again dissolved himself in a mess of quick and adorable giggling.

Roman bitted his lip. - Of course, my dearest hearty partner! - And his hands repositioned themselves in sides of the other, who began to fight more, his head shaking non stop. Evil laughter poured through the prince’s mouth.

Every wriggle, scribble and squeeze generated and increased a new flow of laughter, making him to go from the most high tune to the deep belly laughter. Tears started to accumulate in the corner of his eyes and, while the tickles and laughter took over his body in a lovely, joyful sensation, Patton never felt so grateful for any and everything. Just laying there and receiving all the love and care, without thinking or worrying with absolutely nothing sounded like a dream.

- Ohoho. No, no, Padre. - Roman whispered, his lips touching lightly the other’s neck, making with each word resulted in small vibrations that even made himself giggle with Patton’s bubbling squeaks and laughter. - Now the greatest Tickle Monster got you and there isn’t any way to stop him from attacking his ticklish tickly prey!!! - He continued to poke and wriggle inside the one in cardigan’s belly button since Patton’s hands, which were holding his wrists, didn’t made any real attempt to stop him. - Muahahahaha!

The blush spreaded across his cheeks, his laughter going muffled when he turned around to hug Roman, who changed his techniques to a soft dance of his fingernails on the cat lover’s back, the wobbly laughter becoming more and more low, sleepy giggles.

- Thahahahahahank you, Roman. - Closed his eyes, tightened their hug, let out a happy sigh.

- Your wish is always and order, Patton. You’re welcome.

Vulnerable.

 This was a bittersweet word. Maybe a little too much bittersweet. It was that set of letters that provoked a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. That kind of set that if he asked to Logan to define it, would receive a very different answer from the one that he really felt to be the real one.

 Weak.

 He remembers his first days living with the others on the Light Side: spending a lot of time in his room, crackled his fingers with worrying frequency every time he got out from his place and ended up interacting with someone; was always fearful and, when this fear became almost impossible to maintain or hides and someone addressed him a word, the purple lover showed his personality abruptly, with rough and sharp words. The feelings beating, counting the seconds to see how much time it would last until they expelled him from there, because one thing was extremely certain:

 “ – I-I can’t understand. – His voice came out in a mix of tiredness and anger, sparkling almost as hard as his sharp, frustrated look. – Why do all of you still doing this? Why are keeping me here? Why don’t you kick me out? Why pretend that I never did anything wrong?? – His voice stuck in his throat before he could release the main question, that one which made his heart hurt for keep it for so long.

 ‘Why do you treat me like family?’

 - You are an essential part for Thomas’ welfare. – The voice from the logic aspect echoed in the room occupied only by the two sides. In truth, initially it was only for Virgil to be there. However, Logan just settled down a few inches away from the first one, a book in hands and deaf ears for the growl that came from the mouth of the anxious aspect. – Your vigilant and awareness about the reality’s state helps him to keep his two feet on the ground. Something that I am grateful.

 And then he elevates his glare, taking by surprise the pair of brown eyes, which quickly deviated his attention to the wall, before hearing the phrase that let out from the other lips, in a definitely softer tune.

 - None of us is perfect. We never were.

 Virgil felt his body relaxes with relief. Absolutely against his desire.

  He was not like any of them.

 It took a few days for these first reactions to fade little by little. The urge to flee decreased and the frequency he went out increased. He stopped to throw out sharp and rough words to speak less often. He would let himself fall in the steps of the stair and stayed there watching his phone and listening music. Much because it was his favorite hobby, and part because as this he could easily observed (and mot of time unnoticed) the Light Sides interacting.

  “- Hey, easy there. – Warm, loving hands gently held his own, and Virgil controlled his first instinct to retreat and flight, quickly recognizing Patton’s voice and gestures. Was it weird that in such short time he already could recognize each of them? By their voice’s timbre, way to walk, the position they had around him… Would it be weird if some day they knew that he already was aware about of all this? – You will end hurting yourself, son. – As the one who wears glasses spoke, he untangled Virgil’s fingers, since the purple lover was crackling them in five different ways since the beginning of the movie, when he was called to join the Family Movie Night.

 The paternal side has a special skill to utter more than words said, and Virgil felt his ears burn with the blush that hit his face when he realized how deep, delicate and affectionate that phrase was.

 - I am not your son. – Complained in a mix of grumbled and growl that only could be researched and pronounced with a lot of training. Patton laughed and intertwined one of their hands, the other one being free to ruffle the hair strands of the anxious side, who falsely angry puffed, breaking free from the touch.

 - Sure you’re not, Hamilson! – Roman smiled brightly, extremely happy and proud for the reference utilized by the heart’s representation. Logan seemed be the only one who really was paying attention on the movie, and soon Virgil joined him.

 Partly because the plot was really interesting and part because he wanted to ignore the sense of comfort emanating from his hand, which would be totally separated from Patton’s one if it wasn’t for the two little fingers that still tangled. Again, absolutely against his desire.

  And, with the pass (a little more) of time (his own time) he changed from the stairs to the couch and started to do the chores by the morning and not just at dawn, when the others were away or asleep. He also began to smile more from Patton’s dad jokes and the little fights between a Logan without coffee and a sleep-drunk Roman, who didn’t stopped to summon the most eccentrics possible (and impossible) things in the kitchen.

 Virgil began to feel equally comfortable listening to his songs even when he forgot/lost/gave up to find his headphones, and, as a thank you, didn’t complained about the 150 stories and/or performances Roman created based in each one of the lyrics. Even if those didn’t have much of that bitter taste from angst that makes the whole climax even more interesting, in his opinion.

 Just as he felt free to lean against the back of Logan’s armchair, reading over his shoulders when realized that the one who wears tie enjoyed some book about astronomy, since the theories about of how the Universe and everything with it emerged, were too precious to leave the shame kept him from reading.

 The sporadic jumpscares from the logical side as he became suddenly aware about the other’s presence were equally appreciated.

 And, in the end, Virgil relaxed and lowered his guard enough to take a nap when Patton sat at besides him on the couch, either to try ‘just one more!’ of the thousands of handworks that he so much loved, or just to lay down his legs after a particularly hard day on the kitchen. Sometimes he would woke up when the paternal side softly pulled him to rest his head in his shoulder or lap (depending on how much both were sprawled out in the furniture), running his fingers through his purple hair from time to time. Sometimes humming something while working or sometimes let himself lean on Virgil for a small nap, too.

  “Thomas yawed and it might seem, to anyone who watched from the outside, that he covered the other’s mouth, due how suddenly his voice stopped to excitedly fulfill the air.

 - You are tired. – It wasn’t a question. Virgil could not detect the very tone of voice that stuffed his sentence. – You should go to sleep.

 The bed where both were resting shifted a little as the human turned to see the hours before undoing the action until he could stare the purple lover aspect.

 - It’s still early. Logan said that I should stay away from the cellphone for half an hour before bed.

 No answer.

 - Come on… - Thomas replied, his supplicant voice mingled with that puppy eyes that should have been considered a cheating so scandalous until the point to have laws to forbidden them. Virgil began to feel his barriers falling. Damn it. – You know you’re the only one who has enough persistence to keep me from picking up my phone and start to watch animals being cute.

 The one on the hoodie growled.

 - Logan also told me that the yawning is a sign that the body is attempting to stay awake, which means that your theories are so interesting that I am really trying hard to hear any and every bit o-

 - Okay, okay!! – He prevented the other from completing his phrase, covering his mouth and rolling his eyes to the laughter that hit its moments later. – Just, stop with this… sentimental stuff. Urg. – And then withdrew his hand, both turning to face the ceiling of the room, seeing more than could actually explain. – So, where were I? Oh, yes. And that is why, if the aliens remained in the area 51 and it really was in Earth, the time travel…

 …

 And for some time they slept, but, as always, Virgil found himself slightly waking up when he felt the other’s arms wrap him in a firm and affection mixture that had probably taken training and time to research; and, even more surprisingly, the side on hoodie didn’t felt himself pushing him away or sinking to his own room, and yes relaxing and sighing comfortably. Soon allowing his eyes to close and both fall back into the Dream World.

 It took a little longer to feel that he really could lower his guards. Talked more, without fear of being inconvenient, wander by the entire Mental Palace like a lost soul (he was really proud of the amount of jumpscares he manage to get from the family), sporadically visited the others sides  to chat (but only when he was sure that they were in their room and in rare moments, just as he wished it were visits to his own room); and, finally, starting to realize, step by step, memory by memory, fight to fight, discussion to discussion and intern joke to intern joke which Patton’s card, the debates with Logan, the pranks with Roman and the conversation with Thomas mean.

 Which meant being in a famILY.

 Which meant being able to be vulnerable, to be himself, to allow himself to be attacked at any time, by acts or words, just for the simple and liberating fact that none of them would do so, and vice versa. Perhaps happened to exists some bruises, however never really wanting to.

 “- You never showed me your room before. – Virgil uttered, part afraid to bring this subject up, but the other part, the most insistent, being too much curious to let the doubt arrested himself. His feet played, submerged in the water of the small river that crossed this part of the room belonging to the creative side.

- Maybe because you never seemed like a nature lover…? – The prince answered with a touch of doubt, as he wasn’t very sure about his own statement. In the end he shrugged, which was a little weird, since he was floating and keeping himself in the same place between the river flows by an only vine tangled in his wrist.

 - Fair. So, you’re the type that is carried away by the appearances, huh?

 - What!?? – With the fright, Roman almost lost his balance, trying to sit up before remembering that he was in the middle of water and not on a solid surface. For a moment everything became a mess of water being splashed to any and every possible direction, something that would worries the purple side, if it didn’t took more than a few seconds to the creativity side stabilize himself again, staring him as he has been slapped in the face.  – Pardon me?? I am the romantic side! Nothing to me is more important than the soul, the essence, the heart! ~

Virgil was almost sure that it was some flirt in this sentence, which wouldn’t be such a surprise, since it was almost countless all the times Roman flirted with every side who simply happened to pass for him.  The battle between him and Deceit remained as a historical mark in the Mind Palace.

 - Mh hm. – Virgil replied, the sarcasm flying from his tongue with an incredible facility, something that the member of royalty was plenty used to. – Just a sec that I’m gonna be right back after fake that I believe in you.

 - Take the chance and give me my cellphone to call and cancel that intimacy that you think you have with me. – The sharp look released by the one using eyelashes matched with his royal teasing smile. It took a while, as everything else in life, but both finally had researched a point where they knew the limits to play and teasing. Not everything was always clear as water (Ok. Maybe he needs to decrease his time with Patton.) however, one day the two would get there.

 Roman began to suspect when, instead to answer with acid words; the purple lover really got his phone and started to type something. He swam closer to the margin.

 - Hey, Roman. What does “Aqui esta mi numero” mean?

- … Heres my number. – Virgil gave what would have been one last click on the screen of his device, and then, from the prince’s pocket, a sound exploded echoing through all the room.

 - SO CALL ME BABY!!! HEY, I JUST MET YOU, AND IT’S CRAZY!

 The representation of creativity probably would jump something around five feet from the ground if he wasn’t in the river. With clumsy hands and several incoherent half-curses, even more inaudible amid the song and Virgil’s laugh, he took some great time before finally refuse the call, stopping 90% the sound, since the one on hoodie stilled laughing.

 - Ha! Jokes on you, Stormcloud! I do adore ‘Call Me Baby’!

 The purple lover pretended to wipe a tear from his eye, before staring at him with a smirk shining in his face.

 - So, why all the fuzz to hush i- WOW! HEY! – The currents protests was due the vines wrapped his sides, seconds before drop him the water. The prince knew about the other’s swimming skills, so, his only concern was just laughing at his mate.

 - ROMAN! – He emerged, a dangerous look glooming and leading a shiver rand down Roman’s spine and a nervous smile spread over his face. All his expression has an only message: - Run.

 Survive Advice: If the aspect of Fight and Flight tells you to run, you run. Even if you’re in the water.”

  It was about this same time he began to have these dreams, that sweet dreams, which, when you woke up, don’t feel a heavy feeling in the chest but a peace. Those dreams which he would wake up happy, refreshed, ready to open his eyes and feel joy for liking his reality. That kind of dream that was important enough to remember. Most of this kind of dreams involved the three light sides, along with Thomas.

 Due this, there was no way he would leave his room is if he was sleepy. Remus had once confirmed to him that he really did speak in he sleep, and Virgil didn’t wanted to risk the others obtained this knowledge in the most cliche and weird way possible.

 Which would be soooo much easier if Thomas wasn’t going back to the habit of sleeping at F I V E   AM in the days he considered himself on a break.

 Nevertheless, sure, nothing in his existence was easy, was it?

 So, the second the purple lover opened his heavy eyes, he was aware of four thing in the exactly same time:

 1º - He wasn’t in his room.

 2º - A blanket covered him.

 3º - His mouth was dry.

 4º - He had no idea about what time it was.

 Trying to remove the remnants from the nap rubbing his eyes, the representation of anxiety went into the kitchen, soon coming back with a glass of water and sat on the couch, thinking how pleasant his dream had been and that he should soon write down all the details to not forget the butterflies in tummy, which still persisted until now.

 - You talk in your sleep. – It was not a question. It was a statement. Virgil almost dropped his phone, his body paralyzing for a second, the memories running fast and clear through his brain. Soft touches, smiles, that unbearable and yet so good sensation in his skin…

 Laughter.

 His face automatically burned as if he was making a tomato cosplay. With little struggling a look, part relaxed and part nervous, took over his expression.

 - Is that so? Did I said something? – Took a sip of water. It wasn’t cold enough to soothe the heat that still covered his cheeks and not hot enough to dispel the cold in his belly.

 - Affirmative. – Logan adjusted his glasses; putting the bookmarker before close the book and delicacy sets its aside in the coffee table. – Interesting, indeed; and enlightening.

 Curse the day that the one who wears tie began to love mystery books and now liked to talk in codes. Who does he think he is? Yoda?? Virgil almost frowned for irritation, but wouldn’t let himself be carried away by the other’s, who carefully observed Virgil calmly lay in the couch with his phone (turned off, that’s true) in hands, game.

 - I wouldn’t define a dream like that. – Retaliated with a grin. – They aren’t the best example of logic, you know?

 - I do not believe it is more about the dream itself, and yes, what it represents. – It wasn’t his impression, Logan did approached some inches. Virgil’s muscles tensed. – Many times, due being from the human’s subconscious, the dreams can capture things that usually the own conscious mind don’t even realize. Unnoticed memories, ancient facts that seemed been forgotten… - Little break. The representation of Fight and Flight felt the blush increased. He knew. He knew, he knew he knewheknewheknewheknew!! And even worse, he knew that Virgil knew. The purple lover felt a smile starting to struggle to open in his mouth. – Unvoiced wishes.

 The aspect on hoodie jumped from the couch in a millisecond, his mind clouded by the nervousness and euphoria, which started to took over his being just for the unspoken words. Logan knew about his dream. His secret desire that, even being relaxed and adapted and feeling loved around them, he wasn’t told to anyone yet.

 Tickling.

 The aspect of ‘Fight or Flight’ does not trip, Virgil was sure, however, the quickly approaching ground questioned his belief and, when his body collapsed on it and he turned to prevent Logan, realized too late that the said already has sat on his legs, an atypical smile in his face.

 - Don’t. You. Dare. – Half smiling, half defensive. The one on hoodie attempted unsuccessfully to break free, until when those words came out from the other’s lips:

 - Only if you are comfortable with that.

 Maybe it was for the certainty with which this sentence was said, or the affection it represented, or the worry that showed, or even the dream he had before and the chase that made each one of his ticklish spots euphorically tingle with just the thought of fingers wriggling on them.

 Maybe it was even for the sincerity and calm in his glare, as if he had said nothing much. Virgil opened his mouth for some seconds, but no sound came out. His eyes met with the hand on his ribs, the sensation to feeling they still being more unbearable than imagining them moving. His entire face blushed, which he tried to hide on his shoulders.

 - Whatever.

 An amused puff was the only answer from the logic side before his fingers scratched Virgil’s neck, leading the purple lover released a light squeal and pulled his face out of the hiding place, trying to protect the attacked spot. The tickles stopped, which made him open his, almost frustrated, eyes just to find Logan simply wriggling his fingers meticulously in the air, right above his skin, going from a spot to another while spread amount of electrics shivers through his nerves

 - I wonder where I should start the experiment… Should I go up and down? Focus in just one spot? Maybe one per time should be the ideal, since you seem be too ticklish in everywhere… - Virgil began to squirm, stopping in the last second with as a frustrated grumble pushed from his mouth. Knowing the representation of the knowledge and curiosity, these wonders were true. However, the smirk growing in his expression make him doubt about that.

 After sometime, Virgil opened his mouth, ready to ask for him do something (anything!), which showed to be a bad choice, since in that very minute the fingers met his ribs and a quick giggle let out his mouth, didn’t finding any barrier to stop it. The struggle from the purple lover (and, as it seems, tickle lover, too) to escape becoming a little stronger.

 - Nahahahahaha!! Lohohohgan!! – The fingers were making circular motions in the upper ribs. First giving attention to just one, then two, then three then... This before his mind get completely messed and he felt the tem fingers hiking his ribs. – NAHAHAHAHA – Uuuuup. – Wahahahahahahahait! – Dooooown. – NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAT– Up it goes. – TheheheheheHEHEHEheheHEHEHEheHEHE!! – And now he went up and down and in random patters, focusing in just one side before presenting the same treatment to the other. Virgil hugged himself as tightly as he could, seeking prevent his arms to stop the feeling.

 - This sounds like a good place. – The logical aspect continued, his calm and stable voice being betrayed by his playfully (and a little bit crazy, it’s important to mention) painted grin. His hands stopped, moving away from Virgil and giving him time to take some sips of air and struggle to not melt in giggles that escaped from his lips. Logan held one of his hands, delicately pushing it up. – Nevertheless I ask to myself how it going to be with this so well hidden spot.

 - Lohohohohohgan! Nohoho! W-wahahahahahahait! – His face was bright by how huge was his smile, almost as luminously as the sparkle in his glare. The one who (always)  wears tie (and sometimes a unicorn onesie) slightly ned his head, his free hand entering under the hoodie and giving small light squeezes in each one ribs where he slowly walked by, generating a series of laugh intercalated by squeaks and quick jumps. He tried to free his wrist from the other’s hold.

 - Yes, Virgil? Is there something that you want to tell? – The purple side, who had the blush spread to his neck, just shook his head, without being able (or not wanting to) pronounce anything. His nose winkled and his eyes were lightly shouted down, maybe having the conciseness that the dark made him even more sensitive. ~

 Logan began to trace with an only finger irregular patterns in his armpits, happily watching him curl up a little and put even more effort to lower his arm.

 -Plehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehahahahahahase!!

 - Do you want me to speed up? Alright.

 And then all the five tickler fingers attacked all at once. Scratching, poking, wriggling, drumming and exploring every little piece of researchable skin to tickle from the other.

 - LohohohoGAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NAHAHAHAHAHAhahahahahahahaHAHAhaha!!! – Now, the laughter danced more freely and in a higher flow. Logan keep the tickles for a few more minutes, switching between armpits and upper ribs. Since not know the next step seemed essential to get more shrieks and high-pitched laugh.

 The logic side retreated, letting the representation of ‘Fight or Flight’ finally lower his arm and curl up, the laugh coming back to little sporadic giggles. When he opened his eyes again, Virgil faced a long dark-blue feather millimeters away from his bellybutton. His glare met Logan’s, noticing how equally his expression was with that crazy scientists, and wondering, for that brief moment, how his own expression looked like.

 “Like a light.” Logan would answer if he had the ability to read the other’s mind. “Because it looks like capable to light the darkest night.”

 “And…”

 - NononononO!

 He wriggled the feather into Virgil’s navel, who practically jumped with the sensation that hit without any warning his body.

 “He certainly would be a warning to a thunder, or even the coming storm.”

 All his nerves and instincts were laughing. Virgil was absolutely sure about that while his mind became a messy cloudy of laugh and happy tears accumulating in his eye’s corner. His smile went ear to ear and it was really impressive that Logan haven’t been hurled by the strength which he squirmed. The laugh reverberated in his chest and filled him with enjoy.

  “An adorable storm, indeed.”

 He stopped, because the loud sound could attract the others and the most rational side doubted this was something that the one on hoodie would like to. Give him some more to breath.

 - My gohohohohohohohohohosh… - He still squirming slightly, wiping some small fallen tears. – Yohohohou arehehehehe ruthlehehehehehess, right?  

 - I believe that I was quite carried away by the experiment. – He lifted up the feather, unaware about the electric shivers running Virgil’s spine just by this movement. – I suppose that you enjoy light tickles as well, am I right? Would the neck be a good spot for this?

 Virgil didn’t answered for a few moments, ultimately agreeing with a quick nod, and feeling the other rise from his, now numbs, legs. Logan readjusted himself by his side, letting the feather softly dance on his neck, tracing his jaw, which trembled for the small chuckles that escaped from the said, until this spot behind his ear, which made him release gaps of laughter.

 In the end, Logan got up, going towards the coffee table to recall his book, before coming back together with the glass of water in hands, quickly handing over to the purple side, who still couldn’t erase the euphoric wobbly smile from his face. Seconds of comfort silent permeated between both. Virgil fight against which its representation before breaking it.

 - Thank you.

 Logan blinked, a bit surprised, before nodding, putting the feather in his pocket and letting a small smile took over his mouth.

 - I’m glad for we share this… bounding moment. It was quite pleasant.

 - Seriously?

 - Sure.

 - Well it was… pleasant for me, too.

 Quick smiles. Happy glares.

 - Don’t ever talk about this with anyone! Not even about the dream! – Sibilated.

  - I’m afraid to not know what you’re talking about. – And the one who wears tie left the room, his amusing sentence still floating in the air. Virgil couldn’t help but smile one more time, absolutely against his desire, sure.

 Vulnerable.

 Now he understood the sense that this word could assume when surrounded by the right people.

It was a cloudy day, and cloudy days were signs of foreboding.

Blackbeard died during a storm, many said. (Perhaps more for the bloody battle he fought during the natural phenomenon than for itself, but that was kind of a understanding that few really understood.) The Kraken awakens during the worst thunderstorms and windstorms that shakes him from his sleep as shake the deepest of the seas, a thousand and one poems recited. The ocean floor is filling with ships and the shattered treasures of those who couldn't escape the rains and their tides, they warned. Some older, more experienced pirates, also meaner, could not be left out, commenting between smiles and a few doses of rum: Beginner's ordeal.

But Virgil denied, not because he was novice or so experienced that he no longer saw it as a challenge, just thought it was unfair to ignore all the good things that cloudy days can bring. Often the clouds, the cold wind, and the faint appearances of the sun's warm rays were more signs of a change than a storm.

So he liked to enjoy them.

Preferably lying in the small, but comfortable, Mast cabin. The perfect resting place: high enough to close your eyes and get lost in the scent of saltwater brought by the cold wind; a place where nothing, not even a problem, could reach you, where you found yourself almost touching the sky at the same time it was low enough to hear each one of the crew on their tasks as a little reminder that there is always somewhere (and someone) to go back to.

He took a deep breath, taking advantage of the wave of inspiration to get back to his story. It was not one of his largest, only a little over than five pages, made just to quench the sudden, insistent, uncontrollable tickle desire that had practically woken up with him that day. He barely contained the uncontrollable smile that opened up on his face and the way he squirmed slightly as he described the protagonist (who was caught by his friends in the middle of his mission to steal the fridge and now 'suffered' the consequences) being attacked without mercy in all its ticklish spots: the sides, sensitive to the slightest squeeze and nudge, the belly full of laughter, the neck colored by the blush and all the scribbles, absolutely impossible to ignore, along with...

Virgil found himself letting out a series of giggles, blushing at no one in particular. He filled a few more lines until he began to imagine the pairs of hands coming out of the paper, their fingers wriggling playfully, making him realize his onwed fate when they tickled him.

- AAAAAAAH !! - Initially it was just one scream, quickly being doubled with the help of the on with purple bandana, who practically hurled his entire storie through the boat with the jump in the fright obtained. He quickly recompose himself, turning toward the kitchen, where a Roman (“How could he stand to be shirtless at this weather?”) gestured wildly. - It's cold! It's cold! COLDCOLDCOLDCOLDCOLD !! PAAAAAAAATTON! IT'S TOO COLD TO WASH THE DISH!

It was almost audible the stubborn expression in the other's tone. The one on the Mast tried to control his unrhythmic breathing, leaning against the half wall of the cubicle. 

Roman...

- Be cool, kiddo! You can do it, ‘cause you're hot!

Virgil didn't listen to the rest of the conversation, trying to slow the excitement of the euphoric butterflies fluttering in his stomach and the intense heat wich spreaded all over his face. His heart skipped a beat.

 He needed a glass of water. Maybe two.

He clipped the story sheets together and slipped down the loose strings of the sails, stopping on deck and heading toward the kitchen quickly.

- V! I heard you scream! Are you hurt? - The quartet's father figure did not wait for a response as he grasped his shoulders, his eyes at the same time scanning every square inch of his being for the slightest damage.

- N-no, I ... - And if those hands would go a little higher and scratch your neck ... VIRGIL! Focus! - I just freaked out about Roman's morning drama.

He looked away, a little ironic smile in the face. Well done, Virgil, he congratulated himself, acid teasing is always a good way and a safe ground.

By that movement he did not notice Patton's gaze, which frowned for a few silent seconds, suddenly seeming to notice something different in the other. A small detail that he couldn't really distinguish, just knowing it was there. His expression softened, sending to him a loving look.

“When will you tell, my kiddo?”

They both shook their heads slightly, trying to frighten, or perhaps shuffle and confuse, their thoughts. The eyes met shortly after. The pirate with glasses (it seemed like the beginning of a chronicle) laughed.

- Don't be mean to him. - Warned before hugging him. - We'll dock tonight, what do you think we leave tomorrow morning to get supplies and new spices? - The animation in his voice was practically palpable. The hug tightened a little more. If those hands changed to his ribs...

- Of course, Patton. - Virgil was the first to break the touch, a simple smile being the perfect mask for the huge search in his mind of every possible curse which he could use to curse his Lee Mood. - That would be great.

- Oh. And be careful with weather for not get a flu, you're already red.

 Correction: Scarlet. Patton gave one of his angelic smiles and left.

Okay, he decided, feeling his ears got hot, maybe three glasses of water. Cold water. Very cold.

He finished serving himself and returned to the deck, his mind already returning to a few increments in the plot of the story. He just had to go through Logan, which would not be difficult since he was concentrating on reading his papers, finding the pencil he had dropped on the floor with the earlier fright, returning to the Mast-

Hang on.

Logan. Reading some papers.

His body froze.

“Maybe it's not mine. - He tried to convince himself, the very thought sounding insecure. - Maybe it's ... it's from Roman! He loves to do things and show and ... and ... ”

His own body propelled him forward involuntarily. Wobbling, heavy, steps more noisy than he wanted, but to be honest, his desires were focused on something else right now.

Logan looked up, half flushed, half smiling. An expression that totally faded as met with the one wearing the purple bandana, replaced by one of guilt, like a child caught in the midst of his prank. Virgil stared at the papers, recognized the capital letters for laughter, the ideas written in the margins, the light wrinkled in the paper’s conner, his handwriting ...

His hands sweated cold.

- Virgil, it was not my intention ...

Virgil always had two strategies for every difficult situation he faced in life: Flight or Fight. So his muscles tensed, his hand closed with a strong grip, he flexed his legs.

And then dashed off to his room.

[~*~]

He first thought of tossing himself out of the window, then thought of tossing Logan out of the window, then thought of tossing the story out the window, and finally thought of tossing the window out the window, but none of these options seemed like could solve his problem.

He had already wondered what he was going to do when they found out, of course. Everyone who kept a secret had already taken some part of their lives to figure out what to would do when their secret stopped to be, well ... secret

But right now all the plans, the lines, the movements ... everything (everything!) was gone from his mind. It was blank, like a cloud crumbling with its hands up in the act of surrender. Virgil sat on the bed and buried his face in his hands, feeling how sweaty and trembling they were.

Logan. Where would he be now? What would you be doing? Was he telling everyone? Was he showing his stories? All? Had he found others on the Mast? Had he thrown them into the sea? Was he thinking of throwing he into the sea? No, wait, this is too extreme, it wouldn't happen. But he might find it weird, oh gosh, he could think that Virgil was a freak, that was easier than the ‘tossing in the ocean’ thing, but not better. He would look at him strange and-

The one in purple took his pillow and hid his face in it, hugging the object with all the strength he could muster. Stayed like that for a while.

When he finally stopped, he was panting, his heart pounding, however now he had something to focus beyond his own thoughts. He looked up and stared at himself in the small mirror on his desk. He was a mess. He buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath.

One, two, three, four...five... six... seven...

Eight.

Expires.

Inspires.

One, two, three, four...five... six... seven...

Eight.

Expires.

He faced himself once more in the mirror.

- You are not a freak. - His voice was low and he stared at himself determinedly. - You're not a stranger and even less your likes. If it makes you, no, if makes me happy, then everything is fine. Everything is okay, ok?

A knock sounded on the door.

- Virgil? It's Logan. - Short break. - I'm coming in.

There was no time to hide under the bed so, yes, when the one who wear glasses opened the door Virgil was still there. Kind of weird pose and staring at the wall, but technically, he was there.

Logan hesitated a little, maybe he should have waited longer? Have waited for him to calm down or come talk about this with him or...? He shook his head. No. He was there now and the subject seemed to be of a great importance to Virgil, so they would talk about it.

He sat on the bed, still not receiving a look from the other, until a small sheaf of papers was handed to him, a little over than five pages long, with ideas written in the margins. The purple lover caught, staring at it because it was a little easier than facing the most rational of the group.

- First I would like to apologize. - Logan began, sounding like he'd trained his lines. - You hurried out of the Mast and these papers ended up falling, and I got them in the intention to return to you, however I was led by curiosity and ended up reading. I shouldn't have messed with your things, and ... it seems that this particular thing matters a lot to you. - 'Hot' was a euphemism, Virgil felt his face in embers. - But I would like to add that your writing is really very engaging! - The one who was listening widened his eyes. Ok. He definitely didn't expect that. His attention was captured enough to raise his gaze, something that excited the wearer of glasses. - You have a great grammar mastery along with a wide vocabulary and you know how to use it to your advantage, managing to turn a daily plot into a light and fun reading.

Virgil couldn't hide the little corner smile. Logan was not someone who gave unsubstantiated praise or just for speaking, when he said it, it was sincerely. Their eyes met and before they knew it ended up questioning:

- Did you like it?

- Indeed. It was a very nice read. You should not hide it or be afraid of what others will find. Of course, there is always the possibility that someone doesn't like it, but I assure you that would be exceptions.

Wait...

- Do you think I ran away because of this?

Now Logan seemed a little groundless, as if he had broken his train of thought. He blinked a few times. Was there ... Was there a point he didn't understand? Something that he didn't realize?? His answer came out with a slight tone of doubt.

- Yes.

Oh. Ooh.

Virgil didn't know where it came from, but he suddenly felt angry that Logan didn't realize the ‘thing’ yet, and before he could even think about that, his mouth dumped it all at once:

- No. That was not it! It was for the content, for the plot: tickling! - The word tasted different when it came out loud, not whispered in the silents night. - The whole story revolves around this: tickling. Because I like it and I like write about it. It's catchy! The laughter of the people, the feeling of security, the contact, the trust, the smiles ... It's ... it's ...

- Lovely? - It was a complement more than a suggestion, a smile spreading across Logan’s face without asking permission.

Virgil felt wich even his neck was dyed red, but he could not help but return the gesture. It was... well, a good relief to tell this to someone, especially Logan, someone who he had often trusted his life along the trip and the battles. His gaze walked over Logan's face for a moment, searching for any trace of bad feelings.

Did not find.

- Yes.

Silence.

- Don't you think it's weird?

- Not really. I can fully understand why you enjoy it so much. It's your liking, if it doesn't hurt anyone, there's no point in not enjoying it.

Silence. Virgil felt a strange urge to laugh. Maybe it was the relief.

- It’s, indeed, - Logan completed. - lovely.

- Don’t say it. - Virgil grunted, still smiling, hiding his face in his hands. A poke at his side almost made him fell off the bed, a squeal escaping his lips as he pushed away. The one who wore purple stared at the other, anticipation almost lighting the room as bright his gaze.

- Virgil. - The tone made a shiver run down his spine and a slightly more uncontrollable smile spread across his face. It only served to increase the certainty in Logan's voice. - I'll tickle you. Get ready.

And then he ‘attacked’.

Virgil was definitely not prepared. Not when his fingers met his ribs, kneading them into circular patterns that immediately spilled a waterfall of giggles and squeals through his mouth, the sensations making him feel about to jump from his skin. His hands broke to grasp Logan's, gripping his wrists but making no effort to move them.

- Nohohohohohoho! Wa-wahahahahahahahait! - His nose was wrinkled and his eyes closed tightly, as if he might lessen the sensation for not seeing them. Virgil fell back on the mattress and Logan took advantage of the moment of distraction to get straight to the new unprotected spot: the belly, wasting no time in scribbling its full length, eventually increasing the squirming and streams of laughter from the first.

- Did you know that tickling sensations are a way twich the human body warns the brain that some area with important organs is being attacked? - The bespectacled’s voice was calm and methodical as it began to loosen fast grips, one hand concentrating on the sides of the other, as if it were not turning one of the quietest of the group into a pool of squeaky giggles, and the other hand quietly moving toward his belly button, bringing out more hysterical laughter and causing him to shrink more and more into himself, stucking the fingers rather than actually protecting himself. - Laughter and involuntary muscle impulses, more known as squirming, are the brain's way of defending itself, the because still a mystery. However, one thing we know… - Logan changed his method, starting to make circular movements around Virgil’s belly (giggle) button, dragging his fingers with unbearably light tickles, getting closer and closer to the center.

- Lohohohohohohohohohohoho, stohohohohp! I´ll- I´ll ehehehehehehehehehend withihihihihihihihihihihi - The one with the glasses went down a few millimeters, attacking the waist a little more vigorously, seeking Virgil to unfold and achieving the desired result successfully. - NahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAhahaha !!

- ...is that, depending on the touch and the place, sounds other than laughter can be observed, such as...

The tickling stopped, Virgil still laughing helplessly on the bed, squirming with the tiniest gust of wind.

Silence.

Absolute silence.

It was a trap, he was sure of it, yet he dared to open his eyes, catching a glimpse of Logan's slightly mischievous grin before focusing on the finger that twitched a few inches away from his umbiculous.

- Logan! Loghahahahahahan.- Laughter simply floated without permission from his lips, much higher than usual, the writer could feel his belly quivering with anticipation. Attempting to bite his lower lip to cover the smile and perhaps stop the laughter.Logan moved the only (damn) finger closer. Virgil squeaked and failed on every attempt. - Ple-pleasehehehehehehehehehe, I-Ihihihihihihihihihihi-

The finger struck quickly against his navel, scratching, scribbling and poking without the slightest mercy and completely taking away his chance to finish the sentence.

Virgil snorted. Literally snorted.

His eyes widened and his hands made way to cover his mouth, but their attention was captured by the unbearable tickling, letting them sway from side to side, trying to stop the tickling but to no avail.

- LohohOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOGAH !!! NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHhahahahahahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA !!! - The laughter came out shaking his whole body. Loud, carefree, frantic laughter. He flinched quickly, his head swaying from side to side as if to deny his fate, even though the huge, bright smile that seemed to light up the entire room, coupled with that warm, pleasant feeling in his chest, said the complete opposite. The remaining hand attacked his sides and ribs without any pattern or order, causing Virgil to practically jump with each touch, the laughter shifting from the high to the low tones.

- But, dear Virgil, I still have other sounds to show you! - His fingers drifted to his neck, pausing for a few sips of air, a pause filled with giggles. The ringing changed to the chin, pulling out a quick yelp. - Snorts, squeals, giggle, laugh, yelps…

The tickling lasted a few more minutes, until his laughter became breathless, so Logan ceased the attack. Virgil immediately rubbed his palms over his neck, trying to remove all the remaining sensations and to make sure that his face had not melted with all the blush nor broken with the size his smile was, I mean, is.

- Are you alright?

The one who wore purple opened one watery, twinkling eye, staring at him, his mouth pronouncing before he could think of the real weight of his words:

- J-just those sounds? I thought as an explorer you hated to be content with few results.

A different look passed and settled on the other's face, then expanding and taking over the Logan's, once kindly, expression. It caused a sudden electricity sensation in the air, his whole body crawling and laughter beginning to fill his throat with euphoria.

- I understand.

In the blink of an eye Logan's hands found his armpits. Virgil felt his breath and the world stop for a long second… and then his fingers twitched.

Virgil literally screamed.

- NononoNOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO! LO-LOHOHOHOHOHO- I´M SORRAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAY. - His head was thrown back with the force of laughter, his body squirming for an escape route, even though no matter how much he moved, the sensations followed. His mind was blank, unable to really focus on anything but the poking, scratching, tickling that made eveen his nerves laugh and made him unable to form any words, coherent or not. His heels sank into the mattress, lifting his torso for a moment, until the tickles floated lightly at the base of his back, causing his body to fall back onto the bed. - NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAI-

It took a few minutes before the tears began to wash down his cheeks and the laughter became silent. Logan immediately stopped at this point.

- As you can see we also have as examples the scream and the belly laughte. r- The smile was noticeable in his tone. - I think these are enough examples.

- Yehehehes. You got ihihihihit.

- Did I go too far?

Virgil shook his head, wiping tears, the remaining laughter finally stopping. He heard the door slam shut and when he opened his eyes Logan was no longer there. Tried to replay his memories in order to have done something wrong or what else might have bothered the other as his breathing returned to normal frequency.

When he managed to sit on the bed, preparing to leave, Logan returned with a glass of water in his hand, handing it over to the other, who had not realized how thirsty he was until that moment. He took the glass and drank its contents in a few sips, the room surprised with the sudden silence.

For some people cloudy days, days that could mean a storm or a sunny day, were signs of foreboding, but Virgil didn't see them that way. Sometimes a cloudy day is just exactly what it is: a day for changes.

- Thank you. - They both knew what the thanks really meant.

And, perhaps, for others, those who did not live sailing and exploring the seven seas, cloudy days could mean something else. Perhaps it could be known as a day to enjoy a good hot drink, a comfortable and safe place, good company, or the warmth which human being can provide. The confidence this can bring.

- You could had kept your secret when I - Logan waved his hand, as if to ward off a fly or a slightly annoying memory - didn't realize it at first.

Virgil shrugged and looked away, tapping the empty space beside him on the mattress, an invitation that was not declined by the other. He grabbed a book under his bed, the one with pages that talked about the secrets after the End of the World and the stars, and offered it to the most racional of the crew.

- It's cloudy outside, we can catch the flu if we get in the evening wind. Want to read?

And so it was. Days of change, days of strengthening ties, days of sharing memories ...

- It's a good option. Thank you.