Dreams

HEY PEOPLE I'M BACK!

First, thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews! Every single one has made me smile (even the person who said PropScip was 'kinda sick' - the fact that they're not a slash fan and still read it is good enough, I guess!). Yummy double-chocolate-chip cookies for you all.

Second! SORRY. Yes, I know I suck and it's been ages with no updates, but I DO have an excuse! Basically, I wrote 3 more chapters -around the same time as I wrote the last chapter, actually- and my computer ate the document. I can't find it anywhere, so kept putting off writing more until I'd found it....but I gave up yesterday (or, rather, 4am today) and decided to scribble this one! It's not even on the theme list but whatever.

Okay, I'll shut up now. Hope you like!

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Scipio often dreamed of what it would be like after the roundabout had worked its magic, for him to walk with an adult's spring in his step, to survey the world with the same piercing eyes as his father, only without his cruelty. His vision of the grown-up world was hazy; blurred visions of alcohol and music and staying up long enough to see the dawn. Of shiny leather shoes, sharp ties, space and freedom. But, in those dreams, it was Prosper that he thought of most.

They would grow together, of course, share everything, like brothers. Later, when Bo was older, they would get a flat, on one of the canale's maybe, with two bedrooms for appearance's sake.

They would sit every morning by a small window, he decided, watching the lagoon sparkle in the sun. There would be coffee, toast, jam and Prosper's sleepy smile. There would be hands resting lightly on knees, fingers brushing in the shade beneath the table.

Most importantly, there would be Prosper's face; his morning light and his setting sun. Every morning he would kiss that face as he left for work, smoothing those soft curls out of the way, hearing that light laugh, seeing the slender arm waved in farewell, all the while knowing that in a few hours they would be together again.

A warm hand touched his shoulder, and he opened his eyes to see Prosper smiling down at him. The lights of the Stella cast a soft glow over his face; still smooth, still young.

Still beautiful.

He returned the smile as easily as breathing. Dreams were only dreams after all, and in the depths of his heart he knew that, whatever the roundabout did or did not do, as long as Prosper was beside him, nothing would ever be better than this.

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I'msosorryit'ssoshort!!!! This honestly is nearly a page on Microsoft Word!! Gizza review and I'll write more, promise!!

*click*...?