that tasted purple

Even in his current state, Everest huffed out a little laugh as he was told not to overthink it. Despite his purple-cured (?) mind, he'd continue to overthink things, only now with a new and improved capacity for it.

What do I do with my hands? Ever wants to ask, but he can already hear Mateo saying whatever you want to. Trying to take those (imagined) words to heart, the aviator lets one hand slip against his friend's side where the flat of his palm is treated to the colourful thrill of touching the shirt Mateo put on that morning. Still trying to mouth the names of various philodendrons, it was during one such pronunciation that their mouths happened to open at the same time and Ever felt the investigative press of the botanist's tongue against his own.

Against Mateo's side the aviator's hand froze as his combined attention flew to his lips in a bright surge of golden light. Knowing that using his tongue the way one might against an ice cream was probably incorrect, instead Ever slurred words of Italian he was sure he'd heard the other man say that his tongue might curl and purr around the botanist's. "is..that right..?"

If you keep adding stones
Soon the water will be lost in the well