Mateo
Champagne, cocaine, gasoline
and most things in between
and most things in between
"You will not," Mateo says, because in the tug of war of their friendship, he is good at making impulse decisions (and also shutting them down) while Ever fights to accommodate every possibility. "We will be going to Italy together, with the two tickets you got me for Christmas, and it will be magical and that is all there is to say about that." Nodding and shifting back to allow the other man room to sit up, he gives a bright and empathic smile.
"6 months to a year's notice," he agrees. "Not that it will ever happen. I am a leaf on the wind, Everest." Sighing, as if overcome with his own metaphor, he simultaneously rallies and also sags at the conflict between smoothies and crowds. Glancing around, Mateo just about has time to scoot off the mat before he's caught in the whirlwind of Ever's cleaning.
He gives the paramedic half a minute to get the excess panicky energy out of his system before finally reaching out to give his arm a tug. "C'mon," he urges. "I want a mango smoothie - if we're quick we can get home and shower before we ever realise we're awake." Meaning, of course, that they can go back to bed.
"6 months to a year's notice," he agrees. "Not that it will ever happen. I am a leaf on the wind, Everest." Sighing, as if overcome with his own metaphor, he simultaneously rallies and also sags at the conflict between smoothies and crowds. Glancing around, Mateo just about has time to scoot off the mat before he's caught in the whirlwind of Ever's cleaning.
He gives the paramedic half a minute to get the excess panicky energy out of his system before finally reaching out to give his arm a tug. "C'mon," he urges. "I want a mango smoothie - if we're quick we can get home and shower before we ever realise we're awake." Meaning, of course, that they can go back to bed.
I roam the city in a shopping cart
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
