Everest
"Please don't inject ink into your blood, Mateo." Ever says suddenly, and with gravity, his blue eyes seeming to reach across the table to grab and hold his friend's stare. "That would be very bad. Even with vegan ink." He adds.
Distracted by the instructions that have come with the tattoo gun, Mateo is already up and nearly out the door before Ever registers he's said something. "Okay." He calls after the florist, losing the rest of the afternoon to reading and research.
///
"But if we're wearing masks, what is the point of all this?" Ever asks, and it's about as much of a protest as he's going to give, seeing as Mateo is currently curling his eyelashes with enough tension that one swift movement is going to have them all plucked out. Sat on Mateo's bed with glitter and different coloured eyeshadows scattered around like a drunken disassembled rainbow, Ever realizes how incredibly wrong he was to think that going as the Foreman for tonight's Halloween party would be a low-key affair.
Distracted by the instructions that have come with the tattoo gun, Mateo is already up and nearly out the door before Ever registers he's said something. "Okay." He calls after the florist, losing the rest of the afternoon to reading and research.
///
"But if we're wearing masks, what is the point of all this?" Ever asks, and it's about as much of a protest as he's going to give, seeing as Mateo is currently curling his eyelashes with enough tension that one swift movement is going to have them all plucked out. Sat on Mateo's bed with glitter and different coloured eyeshadows scattered around like a drunken disassembled rainbow, Ever realizes how incredibly wrong he was to think that going as the Foreman for tonight's Halloween party would be a low-key affair.
I was a dead man walking,
with bloodshot eyes—right place, wrong time.
with bloodshot eyes—right place, wrong time.
