Mateo
The fruity and chocolatey botanist stands beside his friend in the dark, brow furrowed and mind muddled by booze and other more injectable hobbies. "I was hoping I had imagined it," he confesses as Ever nudges at his hand, Mateo smoothing his fingers across the aviator's sleek, dark fur. Not so, evidently.
Stepping closer to the canine that he might draw comfort from the patch of furry warmth pressed against his leg, Mateo sighs and gives Ever a gentle scritch behind his ear. "Maybe it will not be all that bad," he ventures, though he knows far too well that it's a feeble hope at best.
Letting his free hand tease through his curls, eventually the botanist turns to slouch back on the small rocking chair on the deck of La Verbena. There's nothing much else to do, after all.
Stepping closer to the canine that he might draw comfort from the patch of furry warmth pressed against his leg, Mateo sighs and gives Ever a gentle scritch behind his ear. "Maybe it will not be all that bad," he ventures, though he knows far too well that it's a feeble hope at best.
Letting his free hand tease through his curls, eventually the botanist turns to slouch back on the small rocking chair on the deck of La Verbena. There's nothing much else to do, after all.
I wanna wake up
Can't even tell if this is a dream
Can't even tell if this is a dream
