Mateo
Champagne, cocaine, gasoline
and most things in between
and most things in between
Mateo is very, very delicate, it's true, and he's also good with plants, and so given that Ever is accepting of his treatment plan, the botanist covers up the wound again and says (and thinks) very little more of it. Instead his mind turns to food, and he squints up at the Specials board nearby and the items sketched down on it in chalk. "Soup and a sandwich?" he suggests.
As for talking about it, Mateo scrunches his nose and gazes down at his hands; he doesn't not want to talk about it, but equally, it isn't exactly a situation to be proud of. "I fell out with Flora, about Enzo," he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. "And then we went to the desert, and Enzo was there, and... ugh. It just feels like a mess."
As for talking about it, Mateo scrunches his nose and gazes down at his hands; he doesn't not want to talk about it, but equally, it isn't exactly a situation to be proud of. "I fell out with Flora, about Enzo," he says, rubbing at the back of his neck. "And then we went to the desert, and Enzo was there, and... ugh. It just feels like a mess."
I roam the city in a shopping cart
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm
