i used to rule the world

seas would rise when i gave the word

Alexander was nothing if not wholly astute to the world at large, the Dark Hunter so often enjoyed flipping through those newspapers each morning over his own cup of specially brewed coffee before he felt inclined to even take a step into the often busy cafe ran beneath that small apartment flat. Most mornings, the stories printed in that paper and the pictures that accompanied it were hardly worth the Macedonian man's attention. The latest politics bored him greatly with the exception of those ongoing military conflicts he so keenly watched, even if he was bound by a mere bet to remain within that cafe for several years longer. Still, it was that dutiful attentiveness to the world at large that saw the man take notice of an affair that, though printed across dozens of gossip magazines and spotlighted on the news, held particular significance for the once King. Italy had it's King back. How intriguing. It was only a matter of time, he knew, before that Italian Monarch darkened his own doorstep, all it took was time. He'd made particular effort to keep up with the happenings of the Italian Monarchy, only truly beginning to anticipate Matteo's impending arrival the moment the news broke of the King and his Consort choosing to leave those Italian shores for some mystery destination. He had waited exactly three days before he'd begun brewing that extra cup. After all, though his immortal friend had the abilities of teleportation, he was nothing but predictable when it came to certain matters.

It was rare, truly, for the cafe to be closed so particularly early and yet with his usual list of Baristas all otherwise engaged with the presence of the full moon and their respective packs, Alexander had little desire to hold down that counter all on his own, even if he was fully capable of doing so. Rather, the hunter nestled into that sofa chair within that designated lounge section of the otherwise open planned flat. The fireplace was crackling quite warmly as his blue-green eyes followed line after line of that large book positioned within his lap. The words printed upon those pages were entirely foreign, the dialect nearly archaic now and yet, that treasured book with it's yellow worn pages was still read with ease all the same by the equally as ancient man. He sipped quite comfortably upon that tea within his mug, his attention only deviating by the innocent sound of a bell downstairs. He paused, glancing upwards just enough to hear those muted sounds of voices coming through the floorboards.

His eyebrows furrowed and yet, any concern he felt was brief in the wake of those muffled tones that Alexander could easily place after all these years. Matteo had certainly taken his time. His head shook ever so slightly and yet, the Macedonian man hardly moved, instead turning his attention back towards those philosophical words before him. He hardly even glanced up when, several moments later, his hunter instincts so screamed that there was another being present within his room. It was, however, that singular sound of a slurp that drew his gaze fleetingly towards the fellow he'd so anticipated, watching but briefly for any sort of reaction from the beverage within that cup. He had taken to so crafting rather unique and sometimes absurd combinations of coffee ever since Matteo had near imprisoned him here after a piss poor hand of poker. If he was going to fall to the position of a mere barista, he saw little reason to not subject Matteo to crafting for him the most delectable coffee he'd ever tasted only to simply deny him that very cup in the near centuries to come. Frankly, however, he anticipated the man had come to expect his revenge, the fae having yet to offer any indication he'd favored one over the many other's Alexander had merely left for the man's consumption.

"Yes, it would." He muttered simply in response to those near cryptic lyrics, as if he knew exactly what Matteo so spoke of, and really, he quite did. It was that mention of that boat in the Caribbeans that saw his gaze raise from that book, his eyebrows furrowing in a mock display of memory lapse. "I vaguely remember waking up on a rocking boat with the worst hangover. Not as bad as Mexico but..." A small shrug crossed his shoulders, though really the same could be said of many hangovers he'd endured from his often reckless antics with the equally as old fae. He allowed the Frenchman to so fill in those details he feigned forgetting, that book gently closing in his lap before he nodded, "Ah...that's right..." He placed that book beside him upon that coffee table, simply glancing upwards at his companion as Matteo finally pulled those sunglasses from his face. His own sea-colored gaze met those slate hued ones of his companion, a hint of a simper so settled upon his features, at least, until Matteo had so seen fit to mention babysitting. His eyebrows arose with a soft snort, his features hardening ever so slightly. His lips parted to offer some sort of retort and yet, he hardly had the chance before Matteo admitted he knew his son was preoccupying himself with touching those ancient artifacts, the man disappearing in the wake of such a declaration only to leave that coffee cup suspended in air for but a single moment.

A huff left his lips as the Dark Hunter lunged forward, catching that cup in the palm of his hand. He could hardly help that roll of his eyes as he moved through that apartment, placing that cup upon that center island. Alexander knew well the importance of this singular moment, after all, he'd endured more than his fair share of Matteo's evenings spent drunk over the child and his mother. The least he could do was to meet the boy. A soft sigh left his lips as he made his way towards those stairs, his footfalls light despite his age. His fingers found that light switch, flickering it on overhead to fill the cafe as he leaned against that wall, those blue-green eyes entirely judgemental as they landed upon the very soul he'd been so attentively following within that foreign media - his oldest companion's son. "It seems as if he's abandoned you to my care, boy." He uttered simply, his lips pressing together ever so slightly. 'Be nice.' Matteo had said. Beyond Alexis, nice was not usually an attribute used to describe him. Fair, just, charismatic, but not nice. "Be careful of touching things, some of these are older than you. Do you want something to drink? He is going to be a while. Your Consort isn't around here too, is he?" The hunter inquired, far more concerned of a vampire within his cafe than the decidedly young King himself.