Everest
"Okay." And, selfishly, Ever's relief is only partially for his friend. He isn't the imaginative sort normally, not one to daydream or start conversations with, You know I just had the weirdest thought, but given his line of work, he could see all too easily the hands that had caused the marks on his friend. Standing, Ever takes a bottle of something that smells sterile and a bit of cotton. "This is going to sting. If you're going to hit me, avoid my right arm." His stitches had been removed, but that didn't mean the wound couldn't be reopened. Reaching forward, Ever forces Mateo's eye open to make sure that there wasn't any debris or god-forbid glass wedged beneath his puffy lid. The antiseptic would not feel nice, and if Mateo didn't hit him, he'd understand.
'Mmm.' Ever replies without conviction. "She might be mad that I left her with Carna—Jess." He mumbles. Honestly? He doesn't care. It isn't like he's looking to be in a relationship or any sort of ship. Finished with Mateo's eye, he tilts the man's head to the side to look at his head. Though the skin was irritated and swollen, it looked like Mateo was right about there not being any cuts.
"Do you want me to stay home with you today?" Ever asks suddenly as he removes his gloves with practiced ease.
'Mmm.' Ever replies without conviction. "She might be mad that I left her with Carna—Jess." He mumbles. Honestly? He doesn't care. It isn't like he's looking to be in a relationship or any sort of ship. Finished with Mateo's eye, he tilts the man's head to the side to look at his head. Though the skin was irritated and swollen, it looked like Mateo was right about there not being any cuts.
"Do you want me to stay home with you today?" Ever asks suddenly as he removes his gloves with practiced ease.
I was a dead man walking,
with bloodshot eyes—right place, wrong time.
with bloodshot eyes—right place, wrong time.
