Everest
Shyly and awkwardly Ever accepts Mateo's praise as best he can. Trying to open his presents as quickly and casually as was possible, with every bit of carefully torn paper, the paramedic is relieved to find things within he doesn't have to pretend to like. Not able to parrot Mateo's excitement, instead Ever offers a series of, I was almost out of this, thank you, or I was meaning to get another one, as his way of communicating his appreciation.
"Mmm?" Distracted by the tattoo ink, and genuinely pleased by Mateo's choice of brand, Ever tilts his head having not realized that there was anything left in his stocking. Turning it over and shaking it out by the toe, for a moment he doesn't understand the significance of the sushi roll. Holding it in his fingers as if its meaning might be held in the plush grains of rice, it dawns on him slowly. Furrowing his brow and frowning, Ever's lower lip puckers out before he turns his head and fixes his roommate with a disparaging stare. 'You are the absolute worst, and I love you.' He mumbles earnestly, reaching out to draw the florist against him.
"I...have something else, for you." Now, the thing about Everest, is that for all his personality quirks and traits, one of his most damning is thinking that his mother's death and his father's subsequent depression had to do with him. So to say he over does certain things (like gift-giving), as if it might make up for the fact that he had no real family save for the man sitting next to him on their couch, was an understatement.
Rising from the couch, Ever goes into his room and brings out a massive box that clearly weighs almost nothing. Having wrapped and hidden box after box after box within (some of the boxes were gifts for Petunia, of course), Mateo will eventually find a single envelope. Within said envelope? Two tickets to Italy.
"Mmm?" Distracted by the tattoo ink, and genuinely pleased by Mateo's choice of brand, Ever tilts his head having not realized that there was anything left in his stocking. Turning it over and shaking it out by the toe, for a moment he doesn't understand the significance of the sushi roll. Holding it in his fingers as if its meaning might be held in the plush grains of rice, it dawns on him slowly. Furrowing his brow and frowning, Ever's lower lip puckers out before he turns his head and fixes his roommate with a disparaging stare. 'You are the absolute worst, and I love you.' He mumbles earnestly, reaching out to draw the florist against him.
"I...have something else, for you." Now, the thing about Everest, is that for all his personality quirks and traits, one of his most damning is thinking that his mother's death and his father's subsequent depression had to do with him. So to say he over does certain things (like gift-giving), as if it might make up for the fact that he had no real family save for the man sitting next to him on their couch, was an understatement.
Rising from the couch, Ever goes into his room and brings out a massive box that clearly weighs almost nothing. Having wrapped and hidden box after box after box within (some of the boxes were gifts for Petunia, of course), Mateo will eventually find a single envelope. Within said envelope? Two tickets to Italy.
even if i had to lose you to know you,
i'd still be that temporary phase that you grow through
i'd still be that temporary phase that you grow through
