Mateo's entrance is nothing more than a pulse of movement and colour in the peripheral of Ever's vision. Presently the aviator is watching a dust mote dance and waver with his breath, and it's only as the botanist speaks that he realizes Mateo is more than just a vaguely corporeal shadow. "How could I know what you have or haven't forgotten?" He asks, pupils blown such that the ring of blue around the black looked all the more vibrant for the contrast.
Running his fingers along the rug beneath them and shivering in response to the tactile feedback, a thought glazes over the aviator's expression as his eyes slowly roll from the table up to Mateo. "I had my first kiss today. I don't think I did it right, though." He says offhandedly, before reaching out for the small box of white powder and missing by a few inches. With a frown, he tried to sit up, faltered, and succeeded only in sliding off of the couch.
Running his fingers along the rug beneath them and shivering in response to the tactile feedback, a thought glazes over the aviator's expression as his eyes slowly roll from the table up to Mateo. "I had my first kiss today. I don't think I did it right, though." He says offhandedly, before reaching out for the small box of white powder and missing by a few inches. With a frown, he tried to sit up, faltered, and succeeded only in sliding off of the couch.
If you keep adding stones
Soon the water will be lost in the well
Soon the water will be lost in the well
