Chapter Text
The desert was hot, that was obvious. Even taking off his sweatshirt and putting it around his waist, leaving him in just a white tank top and his mask in his pants pocket, it was still very hot.
He had it in his head that if he came somewhere high up, quiet and free of people, it would help him think straight about what the city was all about, but he needed more; he couldn't just stay cooped up in his room all day like a stereotypical American vampire From Teen movie.
But perhaps this wasn't executed well.
'I think I'm going to get sunstroke just from staying here a little more longer...'
Sitting near the edge of the canyon —is that what you call it? I don't know, I guess I should read some more geography books later or something— Evans, with his arm resting on his knee, observed the landscape.
The reddish and orange rocks stretched across almost the entire horizon, like the buildings of Monaco, only instead of symmetrical structures and opaque colors, with windows that mirrored the sky, they were mountains of irregular and organic shapes and proportions, as if they had the freedom to be whatever they wanted without anyone judging them. Which, in a way, was true; people don't judge them, they appreciate them. Lucky them.
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.
Sighing, he gave up on the small landscaping project, shifting his focus to the thing beside him.
More specifically, his small brown leather wallet, which he relied on as a safe and inexpensive alternative to carrying an arm.
At first glance it is simple, with the bottom edges unraveling to subtly reveal the inner fabric, with some simple brooches, one with the German flag — a gift from my dad, even though he's not a "Nationalist," he wanted to show, in his emotionally constipated way, that he would always be with me — and another brooch shaped like a train, along with some pins hanging from the flap.
And speaking of the flap, it's not one of those that fasten like a seatbelt; it's actually one with Velcro, which makes it much easier, to be honest.
“Hmm, I think I still have those tuna sandwiches somewhere around here…” he murmured, rummaging through his Arm-bag — Or would it be Bag-arm? — which contained documents such as his ID and American visa, along with some hospital papers (which he urgently needed to upload to the system here), some odds and ends, and finally, the reason for his treasure hunt.
“Bingo!” exclaimed the German, grabbing a small, worn, dark red lunchbox and opening it to reveal his treasure: half of a half-dozen — that is 3! see? It’s not that hard buddy!— tuna sandwiches that he had bought from a convenience store on the corner of his street.
___
“Ev! Wait!!”
“Come on, Emilie! Stop being such a slug!!”
“I’m not a slug! It’s not my fault you have giant twigs instead of legs!! And besides, why do we walk on the train tracks?”
“It’s because it’s the easiest and fastest way to school and home, duh, and there’s also something I want to show you.”
“Oh! Oh!! What is it!?”
“You’ll have to wait and see~”
“Ah! You’re so mean, Evans!!”
“Hehehe, but come on, sis, we were almost there.”
“Okay…okay…”
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“Big brother…”
“Hmm?”
“I love you.”
“…”
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"I...I love you too, Emi."