Everest
Glancing over his shoulder, Ever neither offers platitudes nor encouragement, but merely gives his friend a nod. With his earbuds in place and his playlist selected—Ever's workout is practically choreographed at this point—the paramedic does briefly consider mentioning that Mateo has selected one of those "walk such and such a path in Italy!" exercises, that undoubtedly offers all sorts of strange incline options. Instead, he cues up his music and focuses his eyes on a poster on the bulletin board ahead of them, and not on the various tramp stamps or brightly coloured bra straps on offer ahead of him.
Beginning his jog, Ever moves like he's a machine; not because he's particularly athletic, but because he's expressionless and efficient. His BPM of his music perfectly matches the pace he's running at (this isn't an accident), and though he's never experienced any sort of runner's high, he does find it easy to just let his mind slip away into nothingness as his feet pound the spinning track below.
Beginning his jog, Ever moves like he's a machine; not because he's particularly athletic, but because he's expressionless and efficient. His BPM of his music perfectly matches the pace he's running at (this isn't an accident), and though he's never experienced any sort of runner's high, he does find it easy to just let his mind slip away into nothingness as his feet pound the spinning track below.
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
