champagne, cocaine, gasoline; and most things in between
"If you are that upset that it will not poison anyone, you could always give them a jab with the throrns," Mateo says through a laugh as he spots her pout beneath her sunhat, the botanist stretching out before relaxing once more in his seat to enjoy the sun and the easy company. Though as she mentions Kai's morning mood, he gives a token scrunch of his nose. "Ew, Flora," he chimes, his tone warm with affection. Not because his sensibilities have been offended (it's Mateo, for gods' sakes), but because it's the rules that he has to be grossed out by his sister getting it on with her husband.
His brows furrow at the mention of the spirits and their flower arrangements, though, Mateo lowering his sunglasses so he can pin her with blue eyes just as dramatic as her own. "Those aren't the spirits, that is me," he tells her haughtily. "And they are based on a great number of things, sorellina, from what looks good together to what needs the same amount of light." He sighs theatrically and tips the rest of the mimosa into his mouth, as if she has forced such a reaction from him.
"Oh. OH," he says as he sets the glass down. "I forgot to tell you! Isla had her baby!"
His brows furrow at the mention of the spirits and their flower arrangements, though, Mateo lowering his sunglasses so he can pin her with blue eyes just as dramatic as her own. "Those aren't the spirits, that is me," he tells her haughtily. "And they are based on a great number of things, sorellina, from what looks good together to what needs the same amount of light." He sighs theatrically and tips the rest of the mimosa into his mouth, as if she has forced such a reaction from him.
"Oh. OH," he says as he sets the glass down. "I forgot to tell you! Isla had her baby!"
