Mateo
Champagne, cocaine, gasoline
and most things in between
and most things in between
Finding himself comically frozen in place until his sister decides whether or not she's going to slap him (and he seriously hopes she doesn't, because he'll never live it down if Koa finds out), Mateo eventually lets his shoulders sag, a bead of sweat trickling freely down the side of his face. "It is better than not knowing," he says as a sort of consolation, offering her an apologetic smile and letting his hands drop.
As for their lists, though, the botanist scoffs and leans down to rummage back in his bag of holding. Soon enough he withdraws a literal little black book that seems to have not just dog-eared pages, bookmarks and post-its, but sub-sections. "Check away," he offers, holding it out to her. "But I want it back before I go home."
As for their lists, though, the botanist scoffs and leans down to rummage back in his bag of holding. Soon enough he withdraws a literal little black book that seems to have not just dog-eared pages, bookmarks and post-its, but sub-sections. "Check away," he offers, holding it out to her. "But I want it back before I go home."
I roam the city in a shopping cart
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
