Who: Romilda, David, Constance What: an orgy of characters! Kidding. They're just opening presents. (For starters.) When: Tuesday morning. Where: Romilda's family home in Venice, Italy. Warnings: TBA Status: Incomplete
Romilda was not normally an early bird, but she had not lost her childish love of waking up at ungodly hours on Christmas morning. Not that it was really Christmas anymore, but she was having a second Christmas morning anyway: sod the rules, everyone deserved to have at least one awesome morning involving presents under the tree. She'd already had hers, but David was definitely due for one. If that meant she had to have a second, well, she supposed she'd suffer through it somehow.
Constance had come to Italy on Sunday, and Romilda's family had insisted that she stay the night; when she'd made plans for Tuesday morning, Romilda had suggested that her friend stay for a second. Romilda hoped her friend didn't feel as though her time here was stretching the Bianchi family's hospitality; the truth was that friends of Romilda's barely even made a dent in the things that her relatives prepared for all of their guests, especially this time of year. There were always beds in this house now that all the children had grown up and moved out, and the kitchen always turned out more than enough food to feed an army.
And the Christmas tree was enormous, filling the living room with its scent and the sparkling light from its decorations. The presents from beneath it had all been opened, but Romilda was currently putting more under it: presents for both David and Constance (who Romilda hoped was still sleeping up in her room the way the rest of the family was, because she intended to make this as much of a surprise as possible). Many of her gifts were simply tins of baked goods, made by her or snagged from the multiple collections still left in her house from the festivities, but she had real presents too: hats for the both of them, a watch for David, jewelry for Constance, and various clothing items that she'd made for them herself, guessing their measurements (relatively accurately, she hoped). She could always adjust them if they didn't fit.
When she was done, she stepped back and beamed at her handiwork, then grabbed herself a cup of cocoa from the breakfast tray she'd brought down for the three of them. It really did look like Christmas morning, all over again - now all she needed was her friends.