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Leonela rushes into her room in a frenzied haze, hunkering down under her bed and pressing herself against the corner in a trembling heap as her shoulders begin to shake with erratic little sobs.
It’s a really neat design, and she has Donnie to thank for it—it’s a typical day bed, or at least it looks that way at first glance, but if she throws off her blankets and gently pushes at the wooden siding, then there’s suddenly lots of space underneath for her to just escape from everything that’s been bothering her. There’s enough room for her to stretch out, even; it makes for a wonderful sort of hideaway.
Down in here, the walls are a vibrant and dramatic purplish-black color, and when the light shines through the slats on the siding just right, the little splashes of older paint all across them (from an earlier, botched paint job) look kind of like stars. It’s like a cozy little mini-room, but make it the outdoors!
Everything’s sort of fine for a while, as she babbles a bit distractedly to herself, and then she hears the swish of a curtain as somebody steps through the doorway and into her room. All she can think to do is scramble even further back into the corner and try her best to hide when a figure—purple bandana, gap tooth, Donnie—inhales sharply and crouches down beside the bed, pulling back part of the sheets and peering at her from around them with so much affection and worry in his eyes, and she doesn’t know why he’s looking at her like that but it’s so sweet, and then she just completely breaks down and fat, blubbering tears abruptly spill out over her cheeks and she can’t—she—
“…q’i’ ‘d’it…I t’y ‘gain, nuh wan-na ge’ ‘d’in t’ubwle…” she mumbles at length, her breath hitching on a fussy and surprisingly childlike little whine as she idly shuffles her feet over the carpet—which she knows isn’t going to help her case in the slightest (not that she even had one to begin with, really), but she just can’t bring herself to care. She—she’s messed everything up—
“Oh, sunshine, c’mere…” he gushes all cloyingly syrupy-sweet as he reaches in towards her, tenderly bundling her up with the utmost care in a minky night sky-hued jacket that fades into deep reds and dusky golds like an intricately tie-dyed sunset, and then fondly brushing her tears away with his thumb once she’s gotten settled. “I got ‘cha, you’re safe, just try and breathe as best you can for me…gooood job, sweetheart. What’s the matter, honey, what happened?”
She just huddles in on herself further and cries even harder because this is weird, his voice is all upbeat and indulgent in quality like he’s talking to a really young child, and she’s so scared and overwhelmed and she doesn’t understand why it feels so nice.
“Hey—guess what, sugar, I have a surprise for you! Wanna see?” he coaxes gently, gathering her up in his arms and offering her an absolutely adorable little pastel-blue puppy lovey from his tool belt with a light, flouncy flourish, and her bottom lip starts to quiver until she’s scrubbing uselessly at her face in a jumbled blur of emotions. “Ta-da! Look what I got you!”
“…p’eshent?” she asks softly, her eyes lighting up in excitement as he warmly situates it in her lap. “Di’—di’ y’u ge’ mih p’eshent?”
“Yeah! You get a present!” he encourages, and she carefully picks up her new companion and holds it loosely in her hands for a moment before eagerly hugging it tight. “It’s a cuddly li’l plushie buddy that’ll help you chase all those yucky feelings goodbye!”
Taken aback but touched by the gesture, a fresh wave of tears promptly begin dribbling down her cheeks as she smiles gratefully up at him. “I lo’e ‘im shuh much,” she garbles. “T’an’ y’u.”
“Aww, duckling, you’re welcome,” he coos. “Would you like to give the little guy a name?”
“…‘i’ name ish ‘Tosha,” she mutters after a moment, anxiously mouthing the tip of the puppy’s ear.
“That’s a lovely name, sweet-pea, it suits him very well,” he hums, placidly nudging her forehead with his beak. “May I ask how old you are, little one?”
She startles and cowers at the suggestion, peeking up at him with frightened eyes and very slowly shaking her head—not really as a “no,” but more like she’s scared and just trying to keep herself safe.
“Are you okay, baby?” he murmurs. “I promise I’m not upset, honey, you’re not gonna get in trouble.”
“I, uhm…I ‘d’is ma-ny…?” she says finally, holding up one hand and worriedly nibbling at her knuckles as her breathing starts to pick up again. “Maybe. I nuh know a’ymowe, nuh know wha’ ha’-nin’…nuh—nuh—!”
“That’s okay, sugar, that’s okay! Three—oh, my goodness, aren’t you just darling!” he praises, smoothing a hand over her brow and cheek with the gentlest smile she’s ever seen, and he sounds genuinely delighted. “Such an itty-bitty little sunshine! Now, let’s just relax, and you can let yourself be taken care of for a change, hm? Doesn’t that sound nice?”
It does, it really does, she wants that so badly, but she can’t figure out how to say it; and after a moment, a heart-wrenchingly fretful little wail tears its way through her entire body because she just doesn’t know what else to do.
“P-Pa—Papa…!” she sniffles, clutching ‘Tosha helplessly to her plastron and desperately reaching for him with just the saddest little grabby hands. “PAPA!”
For a split second, he looks completely blown away, and then he’s absolutely beaming at her with stars in his eyes and cradling her securely to his chest, tucking her little head safely beneath his chin and very audibly holding back tears as he starts warbling almost overwhelmingly saccharine nonsense to her.
“Oh, my little baby girl, Papa’s here—Papa’s got you—!” His breathing shudders as he tugs her closer and curls around her like she’s the most cherished and beloved little thing to ever exist, and she practically tackles him to the floor in her eagerness to return the hug, chuffing out a ragged little laugh when the sudden blow forces a grunted “Oof!” out of him.
“Nellie, my li’l lovebug, I just love you bunches!” he croons, his voice trembling as he peppers oodles of feather-light little kisses along her temple. “You’re the most precious-est baby squishy—yeah! You! You are just the tiniest—” Kiss. “—and the cuddliest—” Kiss. “—and by far the most smoochable—” Kiss-kiss-kiss. “—little baby blueberry to ever be, and oh, I love my sweet girl so much!”
Nellie can’t help but giggle wetly from all the sappy kisses—it tickles.
“Oh?” he asks innocently, pulling back a bit before grinning at her with just the barest hint of mischief. “Does my baby girl laugh when I give her smooches? Well, now, I gotta make sure that wasn’t just luck, so lemme just keep kissing that squishy little face!”
He playfully lunges for her and yanks her further into his lap, pretending to hungrily gobble up the pudgiest part of her cheek like he thinks she’s actually a blueberry. “Om-nom-nom-nom-nom!”
As his antics grow sillier and sillier, she quickly dissolves into happy little cheeps and chirps, halfheartedly trying to shove him away through her laughter.
“Q’i’ ‘d’it, Papa! P’eashe!” she cries breathlessly, in between hysterical giggles. “Nuh! ‘D’at tickwles! I nuh weaw b’uebewry, i’sh on’y p’etend!”
“Oookaaay, okay, I’ll stop,” he relents, fondly rolling his eyes with a big, goofy grin. “Your sweet cheeks just look so scrumptious!”
Then he goes quiet for a few seconds, like he’s thinking really hard about something, before speaking again. “Just for the record, my li’l blueberry does not taste like actual blueberries—but I’m sure you already knew that.”
Nellie nods, her brow furrowing in confusion as she gently pokes at his cheek. “A’e y’u s’ishy, too, Papa?” she whispers. “Owr nuh?”
“Hm…” Papa puts a hand up to his chin and hums intently before shrugging his shoulders. “Y’know, that’s a really good question—I’m not sure! Why don’t you help me find out?”
“‘tay!” she agrees excitedly. “I besh’-esht a’ s’ishin’, Papa, I p’omishe.”
“I trust you with all my heart,” he assures her truthfully. “Now c’mon, kiddo, go ahead and start squishing!”
Nellie hesitates for only a second longer before she reaches up and experimentally pushes the skin on her Papa’s cheeks up as high as she can without hurting him. Sure enough, to her incredible delight, he’s just about as squishy as she is. Her mouth flies open for a moment in sheer, wondrous triumph before a smile blooms huge on her face, and she can feel Papa struggling to suppress a grin of his own from underneath her palms.
“EEE!!” she squeaks, squishing his cheeks inward to make him look like a fish. “S’ishy, s’ishy, S’ISHY!!”
“Yeah?” he coos. “Squishy?”
“Papa s’ishy!” Nellie declares enthusiastically as she throws both arms straight up in the air. She feels like she’s just made a breakthrough in, like, squishiness science or something, and she’s absolutely giddy.
“Y’u know ‘d’is? Y’u know y’u s’ishy?” she asks, drawing back and planting her fists on her hips as she levels him with a comically stern gaze. “‘Caushe—‘caushe y’u awre. Y’u shuh s’ishy.”
“I did not know this,” he replies, as serious as anything, although he’s clearly trying not to laugh. “You’re such a cutie-pie, how are you so cute?”
He pauses, then, a mischievous smile forming on his face, before he leans in towards her and blows a soft little raspberry up against her temple as she squeals and wriggles around with delight.
“Do ‘d’at ‘gain! P’eashe! Do i’ ‘gain!” Nellie cheers, eagerly bouncing up and down as she points to her cheek. “Fun!”
“Hm? More raspberries? Well, okay, you’re the boss!” he answers, slobbering almost absurdly messy raspberries right where she requested them, and she lightly bats at the top of his plastron as she just erupts in a fit of endearingly heartfelt belly-laughter.
“There she is, there’s my happy girl!” he exclaims. “I’m so glad you’re feeling better, sugarplum.”
“‘eah!” she giggles, smiling widely up at him, before her face falls and she starts fidgeting rather uneasily with the edge of her sleeve. “Papa? Ca-n I ashk y’u a q’esh’i’n?”
“Of course, sweetie, Papa’s always willing to listen,” he says gingerly, taking her hand and delicately squeezing it as if by reflex. “I’ll do anything I can to help make it better, I promise.”
She hesitates for several long moments before asking, “Wha’ ‘d’if ‘d’ey ge’…ma’ ‘d’at mih?”
“Who, baby? Do you mean Raph and Mikey?” he asks, and she just nods and hides her face in her hands in shame. “Oh, honey, it’s okay! They’re not gonna get mad at you!”
“Nuh?”
“Nope. In fact!” he starts, lifting his free arm up in the air and gesturing broadly in a circle with it. “Lemme tell you a secret, my Nellie: Mikey, in particular? He’s going to be absolutely beside himself with excitement, and you two are gonna have so much fun!”
Then he pauses and grins, leaning in closer and stage-whispering to her in an almost conspiratorial manner. (Conspiratorial, Nellie muses. That’s a big word.) “And Raph might not like that I told you this, but he’s actually really good with kids.”
“‘e ish?” she echoes, dumbfounded. “Fowr weaw?”
“Yeah! He is! He—!”
He starts to say something else, but her curtains swish open again before he can, and Nellie immediately flinches and buries her face in his scruff with a pitiful whine, tearfully gasping, “Nuh, nuh—” as she tries her best to scrunch up as small as possible before two pairs of footsteps rush over towards her.
Against her better judgment, she looks up, surprised to find two worried faces staring back at her; and once Mikey notices her gaze darting warily in between them, he smiles and waves excitedly at her like she’s his most favorite person ever.
“Hi, pumpkin!” he greets kindly. “I heard you crying, and I, uh…I may be way off the mark here, but I brought ya some stuff that might help you feel better…?”
Oh, no—wait, why does he—do they know—she doesn’t—she—what if—
“Nuhnuhnuhnuhnuh—y’u be ma’ ‘d’at mih, y’u gon-na ha’e mih, I habve tuh hide—I—nuh—!”
She vaguely hears a quiet “oh” of realization through her panic as Raph sits down and carefully cups her cheek in a calloused hand, before, to her absolute astonishment, a soft, lulling rumble starts up in his chest as he nuzzles her forehead with his own.
Then Mikey squeezes himself in next to them and sets a small neon-blue backpack on top of his knees, slowly running a hand over her shell but otherwise being careful to give her plenty of space to feel safe.
Just as her Papa had, they both seem perfectly understanding about whatever’s going on and just want to make sure she’s okay—and it utterly perplexes her in the best way possible.
“…y’u nuh mad?” she mumbles.
“Baby, no, of course not!” Mikey immediately consoles her, kissing her temple precisely three times. “How could anybody ever get mad at such a sweet little girl? Especially when she hasn’t even done anything wrong.”
Raph only chatters more insistently in response, humming sympathetically and gingerly stroking the back of her head, and she thinks she can feel a few tears falling onto the skin just above her plastron.
“‘aphie?” she asks worriedly, reaching up and very gently patting at his face. “Y’u c’yin’…I he’p?”
He smiles lopsidedly at her and laughs almost silently. “Hey, don’t worry ‘bout me, okay? I’m doing just fine, honey, really.”
Nellie doesn’t reply, but she presses her hand over his for a moment before curling right back up with her Papa.
That’s how they stay for a while; her Papa holds her and snuggles her tight, Mikey soothingly rubs her back, and Raph’s churring slowly fades out as her sobs gradually calm.
“Is she okay?” Mikey’s voice is quiet and absolutely dripping with worry, which is somehow both comforting and also a little bit disconcerting, and Nellie’s breath catches and more tears stream down her cheeks as she looks up at him with a tiny pout. “Aw, no, cupcake…did I do something to upset her, did I frighten her—?”
“She’s just—she’s so scared, it’s nothing you’ve done wrong,” Papa murmurs, equally as soft, and Nellie can’t help but choke back another cry, turning her head away and whimpering into his chest because now they’re talking about her and it sounds bad and she doesn’t like it. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay…you’re alright…thank you guys so much for bringing all of this, I don’t know how you do it.”
“Just a hunch…hey, Nellie?” Mikey tries. “I have a teensy question for you, almost as little as you! Can we help Donnie—?”
“‘D’is i’ Papa,” Nellie corrects him demurely, shyly cradling her lovey closer, and her Papa nods in agreement as he proudly nuzzles her cheek. “‘e fin’ mih, an’ ‘tect mih, shuh ‘e Papa.”
Something like confusion flits across Raph’s face for about half a second, but as soon as Nellie notices it, it’s gone, replaced with the same calm fondness from before. Mikey, however, doesn’t even miss a beat before pressing both hands to his heart and quietly fawning over the display.
“Of course!” he amends easily. “Can we help your Papa take care of you, sunshine? We’d love to get to pamper you while you’re so little!”
She giggles and eagerly nods her head, holding her arms out for snuggles, and they both gladly envelop her in a warm and caring embrace.
“Look how cute…” Raph muses shakily. “Yeah? You’re our little treasure, aren’t ‘cha?”
“Mhm! I f’ee,” she tells him brightly. “I ti-ny!”
Mikey just about squeals at that, animatedly flapping his hands up and down before reaching for the backpack in his lap. “Oh, my gosh, you are! Baby sister!!”
She whines involuntarily at the volume, and Papa’s hands immediately move to help block her hearing, his fingernails carefully scratching at her scalp to soothe her.
“Hey, Mikey?” he chides gently—not much louder than a whisper, so Nellie has to strain to catch it. “Try to keep your voice down, okay? She’s still overwhelmed, loud noises hurt her.”
“They do…? Oh. I’m really sorry, Nellie.” Mikey looks completely stricken with guilt upon being told this information, visibly shrinking back and tracing miniature hearts across her jacket sleeve apologetically, and she feels really bad because he didn’t do anything wrong.
“Lea’e ‘im a’one!” she huffs indignantly. “‘e—‘e nuh do a’yt’ing bad, ‘e nuh know!”
“Don’t worry, baby, I’m not mad at him,” Papa promises, lovingly caressing her cheek. “He’s not in any trouble.”
Nellie leans into the touch with a tiny hiccup, where she notices Mikey rummaging through the main compartment of the backpack and muttering something.
“Hm…so you’re, like, little-little…aha!” he exclaims, carefully grabbing a sippy cup out of the backpack and holding it out for her to take, which honestly kind of makes her want to cry all over again. “I also brought a regular cup with a silly straw in case you were an older kiddo—but you’re the cutest li’l tyke ever! Yes, you are!”
Before she even knows what’s happening, she squeaks out a shaky little sob, and Raph shifts over and loosely hugs onto her forearm to comfort her.
“Wait, hey, I’m sorry!” Mikey yelps. “I really didn’t mean to make you sad, sweetie, we can figure something else out—”
“Nuh,” she manages, almost frantically, and her Papa presses a wobbly kiss to the crown of her head with a worried coo. “Nuh sad. I—I—t’an’ y’u.”
“Aww, you’re just a total doll-baby…so these are happy tears?” Mikey guesses, very clearly anxious, and Nellie nods and reaches for the cup before hurriedly pulling away—that was probably rude.
“Here! You can have it, honey, it’s for you!” Mikey reassures her, holding the cup back out and smiling at her as Raph slides back to give her more room. “It’s hot chocolate! Would our sweet li’l girl like her num-nums?”
She is pretty thirsty. So she hums agreeably and hesitantly holds out her hands, and Mikey’s smile grows as he offers her the cup.
It’s been lovingly hand-painted to look like outer space; four little astronauts (in bright blue, red, purple, and orange) stand on top of what looks like the moon, almost seeming to wave up at her, and teeny-tiny bits of glitter that sparkle iridescently like stars are scattered all across the background. Totally floored, she rotates it and looks at it from all angles, just admiring the artwork for a moment before turning around to show her Papa.
“Look!” she exclaims breathlessly, utterly captivated. “Papa—Papa, look! Look a’ ‘d’is!”
“These two really went the extra mile here, huh…?” Papa muses almost to himself as he takes the cup, and he oohs and ahhs in amazement when he gets a good look at it before gently handing it back to her.
“I—this is incredible, did you paint that all by yourselves?” he asks, loosely wrapping an arm across Nellie’s torso and pulling her closer as she makes happy grabby hands at him.
“Eh…Mikey did all the customizin’,” Raph says with a nonchalant shrug. “I just brought him the supplies—and no, I didn’t steal ‘em, don’t gimme that look. April saw me researching age regression on my phone, and then the next day there was this little basket of baby and kid stuff under my bed. No clue how she managed that, but hey, it came in handy.”
Mikey laughs and sheepishly rubs the back of his head. “Glad the li’l pumpkin liked it.”
“Liked i’ lots!” Nellie raves passionately. “Lots! Lots! Lots! Lots an’ lots!”
“That’s a lotta ‘lots’!” Mikey teases lightly, fondly ruffling her scalp and grinning when she giggles at him. “Go ahead and drink your hot chocolate, sweet pea, it’s okay.”
“…‘d’a ‘ippy cup…y’u wea’y nuh be mad?”
Mikey’s smile falters and he gingerly nuzzles her temple, tilting his head at her like he’s confused. “No, honey, never ever. Why would I be upset with a toddler for drinking out of a sippy cup? That’d be pretty silly of me, don’t you think so?”
Nellie nods hesitantly and carefully lifts the cup to her face with slightly shaky hands, whispering her thanks and smiling politely at him before cautiously sipping at it.
“…i’ good!” she breathes, taking another sip and gently patting at her Papa’s plastron to share the news with him. “Papa, i’ nummy!”
“Aww!” Mikey coos. “Oh, my goodness, I just wanna squish those little cheeks! She’s such a sweetheart, I’m gonna melt!”
“I lo’e my Papa,” she informs Mikey matter-of-factly, setting the cup aside and snuggling even closer to him with a sleepy chirrup. “‘e i’ my Papa, an’ I lo’e ‘im.”
“Oh—she’s bested me, dear brethren!” Mikey laments melodramatically, splaying the palm of his hand out against his chest and sending the backpack flying as he goes careening backwards, and Nellie giggles when he slumps unceremoniously onto the floor next to them. “She has defeated me with the power of adorableness, oh—you must avenge meee!! Never let my former title of ‘Cutest Sibling’ be forgotteeeeen!!!”
“Y’u silly,” she tells him, leaning sideways over his prone form with a huge grin on her face.
“You know it!” he exclaims proudly, cracking an eye open and sticking his tongue out at her. “I’m the silliest there ever was!”
Then her stomach growls—not super loudly or anything, just noisy enough to be heard—and her Papa stands up and gingerly squeezes her shoulder as he holds out a hand for Mikey to take; which he does, shooting back up with unsurprising enthusiasm while Raph hauls himself upright and plucks the sippy cup off the floor.
“So you can carry your buddy there easier,” he explains, motioning to ‘Tosha with a gentle hand.
“Oh,” Nellie says quietly, clinging even tighter to her lovey. “T’an’ y’u.”
“It is getting pretty close to lunchtime, isn’t it?” Papa asks lightly, turning to face her with a soft smile. “So it makes sense that my girl’s getting hungry—let’s go ahead and grab you something to eat. Hold on to Papa, now, okay?”
“‘tay!” she chirps, obediently grabbing onto his hand, then laughing in surprised delight as he sweeps her right up in the air instead. “Eee! Wha’ ‘d’is?”
“I’m spoiling my little girl,” he informs her, spinning her around as she squeals with joy. “You’re my pretty princess, so you get to be carried around like the princess you are.”
Nellie absolutely glows with the feeling of utterly boundless elation—she really likes being a pretty princess. “I p’i’cesh! Uhm…bu’ wha’ p’i’cesh eat…?”
“Whatever you want, sweet pea!” Papa coos. “So let’s go have a scavenger hunt and see what sorts of yummy stuff we can find, doesn’t that sound fun? I bet we even have a big ol’ bag of marshmallows just for you…!”
She looks at him worriedly and frowns before nudging his nose in concern. “Bu’…who make nummy fowr y’u? Y’u be ‘tay?”
“Sweetheart, you’re just a baby, too little to worry so much,” Raph reminds her oh-so-gently. “So why don’t you let us big kids deal with that stuff, okay? We’ll be alright, I promise.”
“I’m gonna help your Papa in the kitchen, pumpkin,” Mikey chimes in. “He’ll fix something for both you and him, and I’ll whip up some pizza for Raph and myself—that way, the work’s split evenly between the both of us so we won’t get tired, and you get to snuggle with Raphie while you wait! That’ll be fun!”
Nellie nods a bit apprehensively at the idea. “‘tay, ‘d’en y’u be shafe…an’ I ‘ike cuddwlesh.”
“I know you do, baby,” Papa hums, hugging her close and nuzzling her temple as she claps and giggles with glee. “That’s why we planned it this way.”
“‘aphie? Y’u wea’y wan-na cuddwle wi’ mih…?” she mutters sheepishly, fiddling nervously with her fingers. “I know y’u nuh ‘ike i’ much…nuh wan-na push y’u, an’ make y’u feew uncomf’bwle owr a’yt’ing.”
“You’re so thoughtful, you know that?” Raph asks softly. “Wanna hear a secret?”
She perks up immediately and smiles, and Raph leans in like he’s about to whisper to her, but he pulls back at the last second and kisses her forehead instead.
“Who do ya think came up with the idea of givin’ you a cuddle buddy?” he teases, and she squeaks and bashfully hides her face behind her knuckles before brushing her fingers over his arm. “That’s right, squirt, it was me! And you know me—I wouldn’t suggest somethin’ if I wasn’t totally on-board with it.”
“‘aphie ‘nuggwlesh!” Nellie shouts, reaching an arm out towards her curtains in excitement, and grinning even wider when Raph snorts fondly at her. “Yay! ‘e’sh go! ‘e’sh go ‘nuggwle!”
Her Papa smiles and shifts his hold on her so that she’s slightly closer to his side. “Hey, Mike? Why don’t you go set up the TV so our wonderful little baby girl here—” He pauses mid-sentence to kiss her cheek, and she giggles and happily mashes her face against his forehead in a clumsy attempt to return the gesture. “—aww, thank you for the kisses!—so she can watch cartoons with Raph, yeah?”
Mikey gives him a thumbs-up and heads out of the room, and Nellie looks down sadly and mumbles, “Buh-bye,” as she watches him leave; she misses him already.
“It’s okay, Nellie,” Raph soothes. “It’ll only take Mikey a moment to get everything ready, and then you’ll get to play with him again!”
“…‘eah…” she murmurs. “Bu’ ‘d’I sh’ill mish ‘im…sowy.”
“You don’t have to apologize, sunshine, it’s okay to miss him,” he croons. “I didn’t mean to make you think it wasn’t, I’m sorry.”
Her Papa looks mildly surprised by Raph telling her this, and she frowns and timidly touches his cheek to get his attention. “Papa? Wha’sh ‘ong?”
“Hm? Nothing’s wrong, honey,” he answers. “I just didn’t expect Raph to be so…apt, when it came to feelings.”
“Hey, give me a little credit,” Raph drawls playfully. “She’s only three, I’m not gonna go yellin’ at her. I’m not a monster.”
“TV’s ready, come on out!” Mikey hollers from the living room, and her Papa hums and starts forward, pushing her curtains aside and stepping out of her bedroom with Raph not far behind.
From there, he carries her into the living room, where she finds to her delight that the first episode of Space Heroes is already cued up on the television, and she stretches her arms out and makes excited grabby hands at the screen.
“Yeah? What’s that on TV?” Papa prompts. “What do you see, my Nellie?”
Nellie squeals and jabbers happily in her rush to get the words out, but eventually she manages, “Shpace ‘ewoesh!”
“Good job! Aren’t you clever!” He sets her down and gingerly boops her forehead, chuckling good-naturedly when it makes her go cross-eyed. “Let’s head on over to the couch, and then you can snuggle up all cozy with Raph! I’ll go get started on lunch.”
Nellie clamors up onto the sofa and starts leisurely swinging her legs out in front of her, holding her hands out for Raph with a tiny smile.
“We ‘nuggwle?” she asks hopefully.
“Yes, jellybean,” he affirms, plopping down next to her and unpausing the television, and Nellie happily cuddles up to him and leans against his plastron as he wraps his arms around her. “We’re gonna snuggle, don’t you worry.”
“‘nuggwlesh,” she sighs dreamily, curling further into his torso and hugging her lovey close with a contented little hum. “Wawm.”
“Yeah? I’m like a living space heater, huh?”
She’s so comfortable, so drowsy, and so very little that she lasts maybe five minutes into the first episode before she drifts off to sleep—and her dreams are filled with soft, perfect hugs.