stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

cardboard is boring, we brought our matches - look how it burns

Harley nearly bristled when he withheld such information, teasing her with words she could not fathom the meaning of. How he toys with her, her mind would simply not let this go. Not for a single second. "One day.." She huffs, puffing up a little. Oh yes, she is the queen of huffing and puffing when those conditions managed to permeate that thick exterior. Her eyes narrow in that assessing way, unsure if she should just let it go or press further. Part of her wanted to press it until he gave in. Hell, a huge part of her did. It took so much damn effort she had to focus on something else entirely. If she let him know that his words would haunt her later, she refused to give him the satisfaction.

Those softly uttered words only made her even more riled, that sensation swelling in her chest, her skin crawling. She was quite certain she planned on proving it right this damn second, just to wipe that impish grin on his face. He had no idea of how far she would go to prove her point. There was a certain haughtiness that unfurled within her ready to meet his challenge with defiant fervor. But there was a time and place and as far as she was concerned, she just didn't want to run him off with his tail in between his legs just yet.

The conversation shifted to turning into one of the preternatural species running amuck, unpleasant hardly cut it. Each creature seemed to suffer a great deal in order to turn into what they were, having to suffer a trauma that would linger for a life time. She wondered if he remembered his own. She knew she would think more on these matters later, when sleep was just about to come over her. The recipe for become supernatural, always seemed to have a similar recipe. You had to bleed, a lot. She had bled enough thank you very much.

Matteo's words as to how he survived all those years without the kiss of death catching up to him, made the woman think. Would friends be enough for her? She hardly thought so. She hardly was willing to risk any of them in the wake of her own destruction. She always had seen herself going out in a blaze of glory to save the few souls she cared for. Harley didn't know when that would happen, in quite honesty, the brazen woman was entirely surprised she was still breathing. She found herself deep in the belly of the beast, surrounded by vampires and still she managed to cling to life itself as if everything in this world depended on it.

He claimed how fortunate he was with the friends in his life and that he was clever. The recipe for survival, it would seem. Clever enough to dance through time, still alive. How resilient that was. She wasn't sure if she wanted to live forever, but she hardly would ever admit to defeat. Just on her sheer will alone she suspected she would survive all those hurdles presented to her. Interesting, cleverness and friends could be the recipe for surviving? "I couldn't tell you why I'm even still here, I think it might for the only reason is I just refuse to let myself die." But it was more complicated than that.

He went on to speak of one son, but he had mentioned two. She distinctly remembered. Hell, she saw the two tattoos in their representation. What he said seemed to snag her attention. He spoke about unfortunately being mortal was a bad thing and while she agreed with him that being mortal fucking sucked. "HEY. Just your 'friendly' mortal-human over here, nothing unfortunate about us. Except most of us suck and its probably a good thing we don't live forever. Yeah, we are a little weak in strength." She nodded firmly, decided to quit when she was ahead, she was hardly doing a good job selling humans as a species. The sad thought about it all, was everyone she knew wasn't even human anymore. She was in fact the last one standing in her circle. Well shit. The odds were not looking good. Being mortal sucked when you found yourself always in the thick of things and she despised how weak she was in comparison. "Well at least you have two, that's more family that most.. Yeah, vampires are dead as a doornail and knocking up dead things just doesn't work." She couldn't help her mind drift just how many trysts one could have if you lived for forever. He hardly seemed like the conservative type and how confident he was within his body. That didn't come from being shy.

It seemed like today was torment Harley day. He must have known how much it drove her nuts with these loose responses. He was toying with her and she knew it. "You are cruel, Fairyman." She shrugged her shoulders. Even she knew Antarctica was uninhabitable, perhaps it was better off with its barren wasteland. At least mankind could hardly fuck it up too. "I'm starting to think that you enjoy tormenting me." She grumbled at him, even though she knew there would be no fun in that. Being a frosty bitch didn't seem all that bad, she thought with a shrug.

He then offered her those words, that made her pause. It took a second to find the hidden meaning within them. Or perhaps it was only her that caught it, that would be a little confusing for him. But Harley being her, simply had to toy with those often forbidden thoughts. If he were to picture her naked it had better be a damn good image and she still stood by that. Although, he would have probably gotten the imagery all wrong anyway. He certainly had no idea of the scars that all had a story to tell or hidden tattoos she possessed beneath that clothing. She still was pleased to be perfectly smug with his comment though. "Acceptable." She nodded her head in that finality, accompanied by her knowing smirk appeared once more before she offered him a tasty treat.


There was never a dull moment while she worked, he was thoroughly amusing. She had to give the man that. They spoke about those countries as she worked, not surprising that Greenland seemed to be the cunning liar. That was then Harley spoke those fighting words, as she contently gloated once more. Even after he insisted on her losing. "Your pretty words don't fool me. So, until its settled, we will agree to disagree." She gave a nod of conclusiveness, but she refused to show an ounce of defeat or submission to the idea of losing.


The drink that suddenly appeared within his hands had absolutely stunned the midnight-haired woman, halting her progress, the last thing she needed to be doing was hallucinating and tattooing. How the disappointment found her features when he refused to tell her his secret. No fair. "Secrets don't make friends." She nearly pouted her disappointment. But it still did not take away that look of sheer disbelief and enjoyment from watching booze appear right under her own nose. At least if he was going to do it again, maybe she could spot something that would give it away. She would figure this out, one way or another. But just as the first drink in his hands, it was entirely puzzling. Holy shit. She could hardly help how wide her eyes got nor that urge to figure out how he did it. She had to know everything, clearly. Anything of interest, she simply had to. "I have my eye on you, fairyman." She warned as if promising to figure out his trick. But damn that had to be the coolest shit she had seen in a long time.


She knew a drink wasn't going to mess with abilities, but she knew if anything she took seriously it was her work. But it still didn't stop her from teasing the man. "Safer? That's when you start realizing your getting old, you start doing everything safe." She knows she is goading him, but after all the torment he had put her through with his fae trickery, he deserved it. She was certain of it.

The final missing piece to the puzzle of that tattoo brought that curse word to Matteo's lips. But he remained perfectly still, so she could connect that final line into completion. Once that tattoo was finished, she did the final clean up, admired her own handy work. She stood and with a rewarding stretch it felt good to be on her feet again.

He seemed quite pleased with the tattoo too, although she was confident she was able to give him exactly what he wanted. Her eyes seemed to sparkle with inquisitiveness as that drink was finally deemed her own. "Finally, here I thought you were going to deprive me." That playful sarcasm easily leapt off her tongue. He was honestly lucky she was too busy with his feet to have snatched one of his.

She quickly scurried over toward that drink, adeptly examining it while he examined his now inked feet. She took a quick smell, oh yes, definitely smells like tequila. How tequila made her so very silly in public, but she hardly had anything to worry about with only one shot. Unless it was absinthe, then that would be a whole other ball game. She would-be full-blown drunk at 2 or perhaps at even three. She had made a terrible mistake making a wager she could outdrink someone at a bar.. she hardly was aware that the person was the lead singer of some band that was headlining. She hadn't specified the drink and it ended up being the forbidden fruit of the alcohol world. Let's just say she wasn't sure who ended up being the winner. All she remembered was that she stole the mic from him when the band playing and sang her glorious heart out before she threw the mic into the crowd and somehow made it home. It all seemed like a good idea at the time. Word has it, the lead singer passed out during the middle of their set before Harley took that mantle and ditched. The results were very foggy at best. Regardless of her past transgressions, she looked at the pretty hue of the alcohol, now before her. "Cheers" She said before downing tilting her head back and downing the whole shot all at once. "Oh yummy.. this tastes identical to the bottle of patron I... uh.. borrowed once." That was another story that caused her up to no good grin to widen. "Thank you." She nearly sang the words, deciding to use her.... manners, placing the glass where she snatched it from.

He slid so easily from the chair, if there was any discomfort of his foot, he hardly showed it. The movement captured her attention before an idle hand was offered. She eyed it with a hint of suspicion, peering at his face that gave an encouraging nod. She was hardly afraid of a hand, nor the man that it belonged to, so she closed the distance and placed her own within his. It was almost surprising to find his hand warm, perhaps warmer than even her own. He began to speak, weaving a tale of complexity, wondering where he was going with this. She was always so highly skeptical of people, waiting for the ball to finally drop. But his words rang true, yet, still the woman wasn't exactly following. That was until he mentioned that boldness. Too many people were too frightened to make moves, for fear of the unknown or for fear of living she wasn't sure. Regardless, his thick accent danced within those words. He probably sounded damn good speaking fluent French, she was sure of it even though she would be lucky to only pick up a word or two. She nodded her head in agreement, not exactly sure what that hand had anything to do with bold actions. It was actually kind of sweet in a weird way. She just about opened her mouth to give the long list of things that were indeed, disheartening in the world. But she fell quiet as all that wondering was remedied in but a sudden of a simple action.

In such a fluid motion without the hint of hesitation as he tugs her closer. Harley had a moment to meet his eyes, that betrayed nothing. Not a hint of anything save for that mischievous glint that danced within them. Alright Frenchman, I'll play. She seemed to say with her actions. Curious of that sudden contact. He was toying with a temperamental bomb, easily set off with the wrong move. He lifts her arm and she complied to that silent gentle demand, not willing to back down from their little game. Her body spins slowly, smoothly, as he pulls her in delicately, pulling her into gentle embrace. She would have lied if it didn't feel nice feeling his very defined body of his pressed against her or the way her heart began to thud within her chest. Stupid heart. She was certain it would betray her and he could very well feel it. Not a stitch of air could breathe between them, and he felt so deliciously warm. His embrace so very gentle and hardly demanding, it was almost too easy to melt within it. Their hands entwined, his free hand daring to find her waist. She could feel how close his lips danced to her shoulder, how hot his breath felt against the exposed skin. It almost made her falter. He was teasing her, with every movement, every tequila laced breath and her body felt almost anticipatory to it.

"Really Matteo, you think your going to win.. with a dance off?" Her voice seemed quieter than usual even though her sarcasm seemed at the ready. Yet still, her body remained, willing to humour this madness. Even now, she still goaded him. Harley just simply did not the art of shutting the fuck up.

He spoke, his deliciously accented words about bold actions and before those sarcastic laced words could dare fall from her lips, he silences her when his lips pressed against her shoulder. How he took his time with those meticulously placed kisses. They were so soft that she felt them through her entire body as though they were electrified. Her heartbeat increased, fluttering so rapidly she hadn't realized she held her breath. Each kiss only made her skin anticipate that feeling and she hated how her body seemed so willing to participate, melting into those touches. How she hardly wanted those sultry kisses to stop, so when that final kiss left its mark right below her ear she nearly shuddered, her hair-raising on end. It was then that the woman finally remembered she needed to breathe. His hold releases and she nearly protests as the warmth suddenly disappeared, she whirled around to face him. She drew in that much-needed breath, tried to focus on regaining that control of her damn body. She wanted to knock that smugness right out of him, he thought he won this, wrapped it up in a nice little gift, tied in a pretty little bow. He uttered Cherie again her eyes bloom to a violet flame.

"It was a nice performance. I see your case and point." The raven-haired woman admitted. But even though she felt entirely breathless, attempting to regain that breath she lost, she stood a little straighter, she hated how her body betrayed her. It frustrated her to no avail. The way he looked at her with that mischievous grin, she could hardly stand how much it amused her so. So instead of saying something nasty, she prowls forward while he asked what she wanted for placing the world at his feet. She merely looks down at his feet casually before lifting them once more. What is it that he owed her she wondered? She shook her head with a slight frown, anger toying with her in a flash. "I don't want your money." Once right up and close, so that she could almost smell his breath, she lifts her right hand before.. thwack. She slaps him right across the face. Her eyes are narrowed and fierce as she drew in a breath between her teeth.

One hand placed right in the middle of his chest with all the defiance she could muster. "First.. let's be clear. The slap was for kissing me like that." Reality speaking, it really wasn't, it was more for how she hated how quickly he could make her feel like that. But he didn't need to know that little detail, did he? Or maybe he already knew. She pressed firmly as though she is pushing him away, not as gentle as his sweet movements just prior, no, she wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to kick his ass or push him against a wall and kiss him. Step for step, she doesn't relinquish that pressure until she has him right against the wall. Pinned between the wall and the sheer hellion that was Harley, there was no place for him to go. She hardly cared to lose in this game she knew she could win.

"Hmm, so who has their back against the walI? I won't relent and I have all the time in the world to play your little game." Whose game was it really? She wasn't quite sure anymore. That smirk tugging at the corner of her own lips, her eyes looking up at his full of that look that said she was up to no good. Her body pressed against his own once, this time she was the one to keep her body pressed there, unyielding, without an exit. One leg slid forward so that her knee met the wall from between his legs. She suddenly grabs the fabric of his shirt in the balls of her fist so he had to come down to her level. All so he could see all too well that defiant look on upon her face. His little tactic, as sensual and igniting as it was, did not leave her surrendering. She looks him dead in the eye. "So I do think that makes me the winner, do you yield?" She tips her head in that way that expresses she wasn't sure how this was going to go. Because she was sure he was hardly prepared for the woman with no fear and just what she was capable of because her next plan of action was far bolder than even his.

Harley Westward