Mateo
"Oh, poverino," Mateo laments, squashing Koa close into his embrace and wondering when the smell of booze and just-been-in-a-fight became his friend's brand of cologne. "You have really got it bad." With a long, heady sigh in which the world fizzes into a spray of coloured fireworks for a moment, the botanist squeezes Koa's shoulder and tries to sit up on his bar stool - which is basically just the equivalent of not quite falling off it.
"It is terrible," he agrees dramatically. "What if we go along to Molly's anyway, and you can forget about love and instead just enjoy the night? There will be plenty of time to feel horrible in the morning, no?" It seems reasonable to him, at least. And the workers will probably give better relationship advice than he does, too.
"It is terrible," he agrees dramatically. "What if we go along to Molly's anyway, and you can forget about love and instead just enjoy the night? There will be plenty of time to feel horrible in the morning, no?" It seems reasonable to him, at least. And the workers will probably give better relationship advice than he does, too.
I'm a scholar and a gentleman
And I don't usually fall when I try to stand
And I don't usually fall when I try to stand
