the earth has music for those who listen
"Ever!" Mateo should not sound so excited to hear such a dry remark echo from the bedroom, but gods he really is. Dispensing with etiquette, the boy barrels into the room and lets his backpack slouch to the ground, already planning to scramble over to wherever his friend is sitting or laying or studying or whatever else, flinging his arms around him tightly.
"Ever, I'm here to visit! I missed you! I brought snacks from Stormbreak. Fa molto freddo qui. How do you cope?" Most of his words (travelling tongue and otherwise) are muffled from whatever part of Everest his face is buried in, and he'll remember his friend's proclivities later. For now, sorry, but he can't help but act like a happy kid.
"Ever, I'm here to visit! I missed you! I brought snacks from Stormbreak. Fa molto freddo qui. How do you cope?" Most of his words (travelling tongue and otherwise) are muffled from whatever part of Everest his face is buried in, and he'll remember his friend's proclivities later. For now, sorry, but he can't help but act like a happy kid.
