send me three words + a character or pairing and i'll write you a little scene
The hotel is quiet, these days.
Even outside of its ornate doors, the city of Krat feels still, as if the murderous puppets and monsters have decided to leave the final few inhabitants be and have either wandered off in search of new prey or curled up somewhere to die.
All is calm, all is still, yet Pinocchio can't figure out how to be so himself. Perhaps because he never has been before. Perhaps because he's a thing of motion, created for blood and bile and battle. Others can see the potential on the horizon, for growth and change, but Pinocchio feels stagnant. Stuck.
Every day he walks the perimeter of the hotel to be sure there's nothing lurking, lying in wait. Every week he goes out to find supplies to bring back for those who need food and fresh water. Every hour he wonders what will happen when there's no more use for him. When Eugenie and Hugo move on to bigger and better things. When even Venigni gives up on this place. When he's left alone with Polendina, haunting the halls of what was once a sanctuary, like a discarded thing that's outlived its purpose.
"You are very far away," Venigni says, his deft fingers winding into Pinocchio's hair. "Where have you gone, hm?"
Pinocchio blinks and refocuses. "Nowhere," he says. He's in bed with Venigni, both of them bare to the waist, his forehead pressed to the warm expanse of Venigni's chest. "I'm right here."
"Half true, yes. Your mind was on a wander though, I think. Is something bothering you?"
The truth sticks like a lump in his throat. He doesn't want to seem ungrateful is the thing. Considering he was never supposed to survive past his father's—Geppetto's—use for him, the time he's had since is like a gift. Venigni himself has been a gift, and his care and affection have been more than Pinocchio could have ever known to ask for. But he supposes it's always been temporary.
"There's nothing left here," Pinocchio mumbles finally. "In Krat."
"Ah. Yes, our once beautiful city is a bit of a ruin now, isn't it?"
"Where will you go?" Better to get to the point than draw it out more.
He expects Venigni to rattle off glamorous places. To speak of the people he knows outside the city, who will be only too happy to help him find a new place to set up shop and become the glittering jewel he's always meant to be. He tells himself it won't hurt if he expects it. He lies again, but only to himself.
But instead, Venigni pulls back. Calloused fingers find their way under Pinocchio's chin to tip his face up so they can meet each other's eyes, and for once, Venigni looks genuinely confused.
"Why would I leave?" he asks, brow furrowed.
"Because." Pinocchio swallows. "Because there's nothing here. Why would you stay?"
"You are here. Eugenie is here. Everything I have built is here. And yes, some of it is so much rubble now, but that just takes a little elbow grease, yes? Rolling up our sleeves and taking back our home now that you have so helpfully done away with the monsters. Was that not always the plan?"
Was it? Pinocchio doesn't think anyone ever actually told him the plan, if there was one. He's only been an instrument of other people's goals since the moment he opened his eyes.
Either Venigni can read the bafflement on his face, or he's realizing that they've never discussed this. He smiles, the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes crinkling with it. When he touches Pinocchio's cheek, he can't help but lean into the touch.
"It has always been my intention to stay," Veningi murmurs. "Stay with me?"
When Pinocchio searches his face, all he sees is sincerity and warmth. "Where would I go? There's nowhere else for me."
Veningi laughs. "You sell yourself too short, my dear. You could go anywhere and dazzle everyone with the wonder of you. But I will admit to being selfish and wanting to keep you here, all for myself. If that is alright with you."
Suddenly overcome, it's all Pinocchio can do to nod, and when Venigni bends to brush their mouths together, he meets him halfway. He's been very careful not to think of this place as home anymore, but maybe now it's okay to just let it happen.
