[attr="class","angelotag"] John Sullivan

[attr="class","angelomain"]Fingertips linger on the handlebar, slowly peeling away with all the resistance of old velcro. When Angelo steps back to let Doug hop onto seat, his smile is fond and full of memories.

This old bicycle had given him his first real taste of freedom all those years ago, back when time felt fleeting and options limited.

Given him flight before wings had found him.

Now it was time for it to help Doug find a new adventure.

“Oh shit. So we did.” Recollection flashes across his expression and as they laugh together about a simpler time, Angelo relives that moment they’d been launched through the air in their daring escape.

What’s changed? He thinks to say, only to leave it to the wicked grin that stretches across his mouth to voice.

“It was good fun though, huh?” He says instead.

And just like that it all softens, Angelo’s expression and the laughter as gratitude drifts between them.

Unnecessary, he thinks, because brothers looked out for one another.

Whether it be as they flee from vengeful pokemon their troublemaking had crossed or sitting by one another’s side in a hospital waiting room, in the middle of the night.

“Just take good care of her, alright?” His hand reaches out to pat Doug on the shoulder. “And stay under six foot. That’s all I ask.”

With a smile, he nods his head back the way that they'd come along the docks. Hinting it was time to leave the hangar and their sentimentality behind. 

“Now, time for that coffee? Your treat.”

[attr="class","angelopoke"]