Mateo
Mateo mumbles something appropriately mushy and affectionate, but the words are lost because he's pressing his head against Ever's shoulder. There's something to the effect of they're not cheap in my heart and a flail towards the Christmas tree where a couple of brightly wrapped presents are still awaiting Ever's attention, but honestly, they don't compare to what the paramedic has just given him.
Wiping at his eyes and feeling thankful that he hasn't yet put any makeup on for the day, Mateo slumps back and gazes down at the tickets as though they're the holy grail itself. "This means so much," he murmurs thickly, sniffing and offering his friend a watery smile. "Fuck you," he says warmly.
The presents - not that Mateo thinks them worthy - consist of a set of artist's pencils as an upgrade to those Ever has been using, and a beautifully illustrated book on anatomy (for inspiration). There's also a small framed photograph of the two of them, from when they'd gone into one of those stalls and got to dress up in old-timey clothes. The photo is appropriately old timey as well, but the charming smirk on Mateo's face is all modern, all the time.
Wiping at his eyes and feeling thankful that he hasn't yet put any makeup on for the day, Mateo slumps back and gazes down at the tickets as though they're the holy grail itself. "This means so much," he murmurs thickly, sniffing and offering his friend a watery smile. "Fuck you," he says warmly.
The presents - not that Mateo thinks them worthy - consist of a set of artist's pencils as an upgrade to those Ever has been using, and a beautifully illustrated book on anatomy (for inspiration). There's also a small framed photograph of the two of them, from when they'd gone into one of those stalls and got to dress up in old-timey clothes. The photo is appropriately old timey as well, but the charming smirk on Mateo's face is all modern, all the time.
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
