Mateo
It's Mateo's job as flamboyant older brother never to reveal his hand, even when one of his sister's love interests also happens to be a friend. And so, naturally, at the other man's question, he can give little more than a secretive smile in response, leaving him to stew on the number of presents he's lavished on Flora while the botanist potters around to get the shop in order. "Flora likes receiving gifts," is all he will point out with a nonchalant shrug as he loops an apron over his head and ties it, then sweeps his curls up into a bun.
"I do not have any resin, alas. But I can tell you where to go to have quite a fetching keepsake made, once we get you the flower." Speaking of which, Mateo thinks nothing of swatting Kaisel with his scarf on the way to hanging it up with his coat, shooting him a glare that's only half playful. "An immature bloom? That is an insult to my flowers and to my sister," he declares, before beckoning him through the shop with a good-natured huff. "They are her favourite flowers - what kind of a brother would I be if I did not cultivate them year-round?"
They pass through all manner of foliage, some more mischievous than others if the vines have anything to say about it, until they come across a few species of hydrangea in full bloom - one a vibrant blue, another a soft purple, and a third a pale pink in colour. "Take your pick," he says with a flick of his wrist.
"I do not have any resin, alas. But I can tell you where to go to have quite a fetching keepsake made, once we get you the flower." Speaking of which, Mateo thinks nothing of swatting Kaisel with his scarf on the way to hanging it up with his coat, shooting him a glare that's only half playful. "An immature bloom? That is an insult to my flowers and to my sister," he declares, before beckoning him through the shop with a good-natured huff. "They are her favourite flowers - what kind of a brother would I be if I did not cultivate them year-round?"
They pass through all manner of foliage, some more mischievous than others if the vines have anything to say about it, until they come across a few species of hydrangea in full bloom - one a vibrant blue, another a soft purple, and a third a pale pink in colour. "Take your pick," he says with a flick of his wrist.
i've told you time and time again
i'm not as think as you drunk i am
i'm not as think as you drunk i am
