How much he enjoyed the company of the woman he had found himself in the presence off this very afternoon. That conversation between them both was simple, easy, flowing even despite those layered innuendos and teasing speech both so seemed to excel at and neither was willing to yield to in any sense. For all the woman's brashness and bold determination however she was wholly capable too, of appreciating those more delicate topics. The matter of species and his own children surely such a thing and yet Matteo saw little need to dwell upon those more morose topics of mortality. The mere thought of any permanent end so finding Aiden an ache in his heart he could hardly bear to consider. In all his thousands of years of life he had guided many, helped many, watched over many and yet- he had adopted only one. To consider the veritable morality of that 'one' a line of thought that brought him little pleasure. Yet perhaps he should hardly have taken any true surprise in Harley's own empathy of sorts for those very things. Little about the raven-haired woman's life had been simple nor easy. He so hardly knew each of those details and yet those lingering tendrils of the future he had already peered into provide him but some indication of what had come before. A woman was not so bold nor brash nor determined as she who lingered before him without reason to be. The world had crafted her as such and yet how very much he found he near admired her for it. A less being would long ago have crumpled and folded. How difficult Risque would find this one- and how much joy he would take in watching that woman struggle. Still, it was a pity perhaps that Harley's future was so already set. Such a prize humanity was, even if few were given to realise it. Such a shame to lose it.

Ah, but surely he thought too much sometimes. That singular flick off his wrist that so readily summoned that shot glass to his hand seemed to inspire Harley's curiosity all over again. The woman halting within her work to stare near wide-eyed at that amber liquid as her mind so attempted to make sense of the matter before her- those demands to be told just how he had managed that very feat met with that ever good-natured simper and a simple assurance some things were surely secret. The woman insisting secrets made few friends as Matteo chuckled but softly once more.

"How true that is, Mon Amie. Secrets make few friends but save many lives in turn."

If only she knew just how very much those 'secrets' were so destined to become part of her life- several by his own hand and yet for now he so hardly chose to delve into what else existed in that lingering future that so threatened to come all to quickly as it was. He could only hope that, in time, she would remember his words today and so come to find within them that understanding and indeed that warning he had offered her all along. She would understand, one day. Even if she might not look favourably upon him for it. So few ever did and yet, do few ever truly understood his own purpose. Matteo himself having questioned that very thing over and over again. The question of 'why' not one he chose to dwell upon to often any longer. That simper dancing upon his features once more at Harleys insistence she was watching him. Her attention returned to that tattoo in turn. The Frenchman wincing once more at the pricks of that needle across that thin skin off his feet. Matteo wholly content to deny her that very drink in turn until she had finished that work if only for fear of the safety off his own feet. Her retort prompting that amused snort from him in turn. Old!

"I put the fate of both my feet in your hands to begin with, Mon Cherie- that seemed terribly daring."

One eye so arched softly once more, that grin so never faltering as he implied the danger of allowing both his feet to linger in Harley's hands. The very last lines of that tattoo prompting that cursing from his lips all the same before the last of that blood and ink was so finally wiped away. Matteo permitted to eye his feet at last as he so willingly offered her that very drink she had earned. The Frenchman's gaze lingered upon that work for several moments still as Harley so busied herself with testing that liquor if only to assure herself it was entirely real. Her work was good and yet he had known it would be. The world mapped neatly across the bridge of both feet to join with one another when both feet remained together. How very much it would annoy Alexander. That subtle nod off satisfaction given then before Harley's voice so drew his attention, the woman evidently pleased with that drink before proclaiming it just as good as a bottle of Patron she had...borrowed some time before. The near ancient Fae so allowing one eye to arch upward again.

"My younger son enjoys borrowing things too, you would find each other agreeable I think, if you gave one another a chance."

Yet.....some people were destined to be somewhat....less inclined to do just that. Aiden and Harley two such people. An amusement of sorts seeming to linger upon the Frenchmans features and yet he offered little indication of just what had amused him in any sense. His head nodding in reply to that thanks he was offered before he moved to slide from that chair. His feet decidedly tender and yet- hardly ineffective. A few days sure to seem them right once more. Yet- there was but one final matter of business to attend to. A game to be finished and one he found himself near curious of the ending too as his hand was but abruptly offered to that dark-haired beauty before him. Another soft nod off his head offered by way of encouragement then and yet, as he suspected, Harley was not the sort of woman to shy away from the unknown in any sense. How refreshing that boldness was and yet how little she knew of just who she played with.

Her hand was light, warm and entirely pleasant within his own. The near ancient Fae tugging her effortlessly towards him then, Matteo lifting their hands easily to allow her feminine figure to turn smoothly and come to rest against the hard plains off his own chest. Harley fitting near neatly within that embrace. His fingers remained easily entwined within her own, his free hand resting gently upon her waist. That entire embrace near feather-light and so affording the woman every opportunity to step free off it if she desired. How entirely....tantalizing she was. Yet how readily he could feel that...readiness within her frame. As if she near anticipated something....harsh to come from him. How truly sad it was she had lived such a life that so prompted her to remain poised for some hidden assault. Ah, but how he could not help but wonder how easily he might coax that utter surrender from her and see how willing she might be to give in to him so entirely, to relax completely within his embrace. A few hours, a few days, perhaps a few weeks with one such as her. How unfortunate he might not be so destined to find out. She was already more daring than mos, by far the best at this game he had so played with in a terribly long time. Yet- he so hardly intended to lose. A dance off? Ah, but how he smiled near against her skin at even the thought!

Those words so easily found their way from his lips then, each syllable thickly accented with that french lilt that so clung to his words even after so many years spent in so many parts of the world. It was easy then, to allow his lips to press to her shoulder, her skin near silken smooth. That touch so seeming to steal from her whatever sarcasm had surely been about to befall her lips. There was little haste in but any of those teasing kisses. Matteo moving easily upward and along her shoulder until his lips pressed with that same infinite smoothness and utter gentleness to her neck. How readily her heart betrayed her in those moments, that brush of his lips at her neck so affording him that fleeting and momentary awareness of her pulse. Her breathing so seeming to have halted entirely as her feminine figure ever so slightly begun to lean in to that embrace. How long had it been, turly, since anyone had so appreciated her as she deserved? How terribly he surely was to allow those thoughts to toy at his own mind and even he was so hardly immune to the pleasant feel off her skin. That final, sultry kiss press just below her ear before Matteo released her smooth, stepping back in near the same moment as if having anticipated that whirl as she spun to face him. Perhaps he had.

His own silver gaze continued to linger upon her. Harley desperately attempting to regain control off her flustered figure and so prevent him from capturing even a glimpse of whatever emotion had so been stirred to life with that very gesture. Her violet gaze seeming to near flare at the utterance of that pet name he had taken to calling her and yet that simper so hardly faltered from his lips. He had seen more of her in that singular moment then she realised and yet- if only she knew at what he had seen in turn. Harley content to admit, begrudgingly, that he had made his own point before she strode towards him. Matteo aware, to some extent, of just what was destined to come and yet he made no effort to move as she insisted she desired no payment from him. Harley desperately close to him in that moment as his silvered gaze shifted sideways mere milliseconds before she raised her hand in anticipation of that hand, though whether Harley so noticed such subtitles remained to be seen- before she so brought it across his face. A surprise of sorts lingering upon his features all the same at that sting that followed and yet compared to his feet such a pain was near paltry. Perhaps he had even deserved such a slap. Harley pressing her hand to his chest then, Matteo allowing himself to be pushed back into that wall by her determined hand all the same as she insisted that slap was for that kiss. His lip so inclined to twitch ever so slightly once more. Those words as softly spoken as her first had been.

"Était-ce vraiment? Ou votre coeur a-t-il trahi votre victoire?"

How little she would understand of that French and yet perhaps it was better, here and now, that she did not understand that meaning or indeed the notion that he had so called out her very game to deliver that winning strike. No, some truths were better left unsaid for now. That very glow of victory still seemed to cling to that woman all the same as she near held him against that wall in a fashion no woman had done in more centuries then he could count, her knee so lifted to restin between his own limbs and further hamper any effort of escape. Harley assuring him it was he whom had his back to that wall now- how very right she was. Her hand curled within his shirt, tugging his head downward to meet her wholly defiant gaze. Such pretty eyes too, even sparked with fury as they were. Harley near demanding to know if he yielded now.That silence lingering between them then as Matteo near contemplated that very question. How unlike any other woman this Harley was. How glorious she was. The Frenchman suddenly leaning further forward than and only closer still, his lips near brushing against her own. Those words little more than a near whisper. That simper suddenly returned.

"No. I do not."

His own hand lifted then his finger ever so gently resting beneath her chin, tilting her head just so before ever so smoothly pressing his lips to her own in that utterly stolen kiss. The Fae himself no sooner having relished in the warmth of her lips before his very figure so simply began to evaporate. Matteo disappearing entirely from her grasp then only to reappear behind her once more. That good-nature, impish smile still dancing upon his features and yet within that very look that daring so lingered all at once, as potent and vibrant as before. A singular piece of paper so suddenly held towards Harley then.

"For you, Mon Amie. For this has been by far the most intriguing of afternoons I have had a long time, thank you. Today, I think, we must call it a draw- but I look forward to meeting again. You will not understand my words now but in time they will hold meaning. In what is to come, I sincerely hope you will never change. The world needs more people such as you. A body can be controlled, a mind can be broken but a spirit can rarely be tamed. You are a rarity in this world, Harley, remember it as such. It was a pleasure, Mon Cherie."

That final, sweeping bow was so offered to the woman then. Matteo disappearing near as abruptly as he had appeared. Harley's name so at last uttered upon his lips despite the woman never having given it. That piece of paper so neatly inscribed in that flowing, near ancient cursive long since faded from this world.

Dear Harley-

I owe you for one tattoo.

Ou votre coeur a-t-il trahi votre victoire

Did your heart betray your victory?

-M


m a t t e o
it's tough to be a god