champagne, cocaine, gasoline; and most things in between
"Only if you allow me to worship in turn, in my own way." Mateo grins back at Charlie. "I do not put much stake in any of the gods, but I imagine I could bend at your altar all night." A line that only becomes increasingly true as they glide through the Silk Houses together, and it's lucky that Mateo isn't a particularly tall man, such that the priestess beside him might not have to hurry quite as much as if she were matching someone with longer strides.
They enter the rave as though they were meant to be there, and through the glare of lights and the deep thrum of the music, Mateo accepts Charlie's hand instantly, and he snags a couple of shots of something as she draws him into the thick of it. Offering her a glass before smoothly knocking back his own, the botanist is already moving his body to the beat and reaching out to tilt up Charlie's chin towards his waiting lips.
What's better than dancing, after all, if not dancing and making out?
They enter the rave as though they were meant to be there, and through the glare of lights and the deep thrum of the music, Mateo accepts Charlie's hand instantly, and he snags a couple of shots of something as she draws him into the thick of it. Offering her a glass before smoothly knocking back his own, the botanist is already moving his body to the beat and reaching out to tilt up Charlie's chin towards his waiting lips.
What's better than dancing, after all, if not dancing and making out?
