Mateo
"I don't think I have ever been, since I got to NYC," Mateo admits, rocking back on the heels of his feet (his socks are bright purple, probably the only splash of real colour on him this morning) and smiling warmly at Petunia as she hops up onto the table. "We will bring you back something nice," he promises her, holding out the back of his hand for her to dutifully mark as her own with a furry cheek.
"I would like breakfast. Or... brunch now, I guess?" He tilts his head at the window. The skies are clear and it's about as bright as November is going to get; certainly not early morning either way. "Let me just get my shoes." Boots, rather, these ones clompy and steel toe-capped, and once he's done and shrugging into his coat, he pauses at the door.
"Thank you again for last night," he murmurs to his friend. "You were... I'm really glad to have you as a friend."
"I would like breakfast. Or... brunch now, I guess?" He tilts his head at the window. The skies are clear and it's about as bright as November is going to get; certainly not early morning either way. "Let me just get my shoes." Boots, rather, these ones clompy and steel toe-capped, and once he's done and shrugging into his coat, he pauses at the door.
"Thank you again for last night," he murmurs to his friend. "You were... I'm really glad to have you as a friend."
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
