the earth has music for those who listen
Mateo can imagine it, but that absolutely doesn't mean he wants to, and the scrunch of his nose says as much. "Maybe a life changing one, but not one that makes other lives. I don't know if I want to have kids," he admits with a gentle shake of his head. "We seem like a lot of work, you know?" He's grinning because he's absolutely parroting the things he's heard adults say in the Plaza, but if only he knew how right he was.
"Oh, that's a good idea!" Nodding at the practical hat snow-parent, he continues to work on the going-on-a-date one. "So if we finish these and they are made of memory snow, that means you're my step-snow-brother?" He's not sure if he's got that right, and Ever's memory for this stuff is a lot better than his own.
"Oh, that's a good idea!" Nodding at the practical hat snow-parent, he continues to work on the going-on-a-date one. "So if we finish these and they are made of memory snow, that means you're my step-snow-brother?" He's not sure if he's got that right, and Ever's memory for this stuff is a lot better than his own.
