𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑷𝑬𝑹 𝑫𝑶𝑺𝑬.

"which one of us runs faster, do ya think? if there's a demon waiting for us, i'm gonna need to out run you." they nudged grey a little, before shoving their hands into their pockets. "not that i believe in that shit .... probably. but considering how catholic i grew up, it's probably engrained in me somewhere."

"probably me," they reply, laughter pulling between their lips. "i've got a lot more shit i've had to run from." yeah, like COPS, but you probably shouldn't brag, greyson !! "weird number of catholics in baltimore." a chuckle, "but i am firmly of the i don't know shit opinion, so could be real, could be fake, i've got no clue."

fuck. he was good, better than she wanted to give him credit for because flora wasn’t sure the blonde was even trying at this point. the charm seemed to come natural to him, and that was a feast dangling on a string before the girl. it only made her want him to want her more. “isn’t the thought that i might be there, spread out in the lounge, soaking up the warmth of the fire wondering if you’re gonna make it back to me in one piece enough motivation for you, evan?” voice thick and heavy as his name slowly formed on her lips. holding a hand out formally, another move she kept in her pocket if she felt like she needed to humble man, the girl smirked, “you can tell everyone your successful run was for flora when you make it to the bottom next time.”

flora might think he's good at this, reality is a little bit cloudier. he's spent enough time learning from paying attention to rigorous social roles to know some things. others, he's still completely lost over. but eagerness is something he offers easily. attention is a dish best served hot, and his gaze has always been warmer than he means for it to. "it absolutely is." he replies, wry smirk across his face, and dimples pressed into his cheeks. she might use the move for humbling a man, but evan doesn't know much about that. he, however, does know about formality. so his hand grasps around hers, and he does the thing he's seen in a million movies. a press of wind chapped lips to knuckles, and another smile. "way better than the dumb shit i usually say."

The moment Evan goes to work replacing the binding instead of calling him an idiot he's grinning like a mad man. He'd take fucking crazy over that any day. "Hey I never claimed to be anything else," he says playfully putting his hands up in mock defense. "You deserve your shot, man. Wasn't going to let a little hardware get in the way of that," he says as if it's that simple. "Look when you get some crazy sponsorship deal you can buy me a boat or something," Kaleo teases.

kal's scrappiness is appreciated. for a guy like evan, a park city native with a history in what many would describe as a cult, he's pretty used to having to push for anything he wants. anything he needs. he's not exactly unaware that he's always been a bit off kiler, a bit more chaotic than a lot of the other guys he snowboards with. but kal was different. as soon as the binding is screwed back on, he's back on his feet, one boot attached to his board. kal's grinning, and evan can't help the way it feels like they're conspiring for success. practice be damned, if someone believes in him, he's always willing to push too hard. "i'll lock the fuck in." a grin, "we'll be on a free solus trip in no time."