sky with exit wounds — mateo &. laurel
Jan 9, 2021 2:18:43 GMT -5
Post by gunner, d9 ₊⊹ 👹 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ. on Jan 9, 2021 2:18:43 GMT -5
— mateo izar.
( ✰ )
For someone that descends from a line of heroes and martyrs, he used to get jealous whenever other students told stories about their families or, worse, parents in class. The words they used to describe their parents—warm, loving, together—were nothing but mysteries to Mateo.
But, years pass. Children grow up. He certainly did. When he enters the kitchen, it’s with a lazy, relaxed stride and it pleases him to find who he knows he’d find there. “Heeey,” he greets her through a smile, planting his elbows on the wooden counter, propping up his face on two fists. It’s always been him and her, mother and son, first abandoned and third abandoned, Alfer the second. “You told me we were going, uh, shopping?” Mateo snatches a peach from a nearby wicker basket and inspects it rather philosophically instead of eating it. “Alfer’s out.”
But, years pass. Children grow up. He certainly did. When he enters the kitchen, it’s with a lazy, relaxed stride and it pleases him to find who he knows he’d find there. “Heeey,” he greets her through a smile, planting his elbows on the wooden counter, propping up his face on two fists. It’s always been him and her, mother and son, first abandoned and third abandoned, Alfer the second. “You told me we were going, uh, shopping?” Mateo snatches a peach from a nearby wicker basket and inspects it rather philosophically instead of eating it. “Alfer’s out.”
