"... Hey Chop-Chop. You've been out of the house for quite a while. You've been out of your bedroom for more than five days straight without coughing....... That's like, a new world record!"
"I don't understand what you're so troubled about, Penny. I finally have a friend to talk to. What's wrong with that?"
"You had me the entire time and you weren't content!? And I'm a sexy Witch girl!"
"Self-proclaimed."
"Do I need to strip again to prove why I claimed the title of Ultimate Sexy fair and squaaaaaaare!?"
The Witch was seething through the teeth – a rare phenomenon. She rarely would get angry unless some boy other than a certain Composer would walk into her bath. Noted, the said composer never really walked in on her. Rather, to be sure such scenario would never happen, he would nail her bathroom door shut until she swore with her heart she was genuinely done the bath and needed to come out. Otherwise her skin will become very, very pruny. Regardless of the details, the Witch was really p*ssed off (for no reason).
"This Frank person, who is she? What does she have that I don't have that's making you fall headover heels for her? The last time I've checked, every girl in Poland don't have busts that could beat mine! Huh? Huuuuuuh!?"
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".... Franz Liszt is boy."
"SCREW THAT LOGIC! YOU WON'T STOP SMILING AS IF YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT A CUTE GIRL THAT TOUCHED YOUR HAND WHILE SHOWING YOU HOW TO DRAW!"
"... Surprisingly his hands were really soft for a gentlemen. They remind me of a lady's palm somehow."
"FREDERIC CHOPIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!"
Throughout the day, the Composer never had a chance to touch his beloved piano. He had spent too much time in communicating with his newfound friend, which would be expected. His behaviour was much like a child playing with his new toy for weeks on end until he felt satisfied. As if having some sense of guilt, he felt obligated to play on his piano again.
However, this would be troublesome if the self-proclaimed Ultimate Sexy Witch girl kept jumping into his path like some kind of pet dog wanting to go on a walk. She wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer. So he had no choice.
He had to drug her dinner that night. Just to get some peace and quiet.
"... Hold up... Did you take my own Sleeping Potion and mixed it into my rations? I made this brew you know! A-and you dumbed all 10 liters worth of it? Gaaaaah! This was supposed to be meant for you, Chop-Chop, so I could help make a happy family with you while you were asleep and non-resistive to my love!"
"Tch."
"Wh-why are you clicking your tongue like that!? I spent 3 months in making this, so compensate me with your body this time!--H-hey, don't walk away when a girl is giving you the right signal! Th-that's rude! Come back! Th-this Witch is sorry, so please come baaaaack!"
At least, attempted to drug the Witch's dinner with her own magical medicine.
"Why am I no good for you, Chop-Chop!........Sob."
Again, Frederic Chopin was a gentlemen through and through. He would barricade his own door to ensure no shotgun wedding will every happen. Period.