Tetradore had learned long ago to keep those delicate emotions close to his heart, closed off from the world and, at times, even from himself. They made him fragile, weak in a life that had proven to be nothing but relentless ruthlessness and heartlessness. It had hardly taken him all that long to discern that those very feelings that afflicted him would be used against him and for nearly a decade, he had simply hidden them away behind thick walls. It was, admittedly, those few fleeting years of freedom that finally coaxed the man to voice those thoughts and sentiments, even if it was filled with hesitance and awkwardness. It was almost a shame that they would once again prove to be his downfall now that his brief independence was coming to a staunch end. The soft press of Matteo's hand on his shoulder and the fae's firm re-utterance of that reassurance was met with little more than a grunt in a response. For all of Tetradore's endeavors to let down those thick walls, some still stood as thick as ever. His parents, it seemed, would forever be a point of distress for him, their loss a pain that he still felt. The tale Matteo imparted of his own family was almost a welcomed distraction to those grisly thoughts that had once threatened to linger upon his own mind.

The very end of that tale left a plethora of inquiries upon his mind and yet, there was one in particular that lingered heavily above all the others. After all, if nearly all of Matteo's own family was fae, and if his kind was supposed to be immortal - then what happened tothem? It seemed that the Frenchman was all too quick to pick up the underlying concerns that afflicted his own inquiry. If his mother was all that had been left, what had happened to her that caused her to lie in the ground before them? He hardly anticipated that tale he was provided of her death, one that Matteo had tried and failed to stop. Such was a feeling he understood well enough and yet, he knew little what word to offer the elder fae other then his own soft condolences. That easy wave that Matteo provided him prompted a small glimpse of inquiry and yet, that Matteo could still smile in the face of his own mother's death was wholly peculiar to him. Perhaps it was the very nature of the fae kind's immortality. Though she had been stolen from this world, she had accomplished in life all that she had desired. Perhaps it was that singular fact that caused Matteo to face the death of his mother so drastically different then Tetradore faced his own? Such contemplations weighed upon his thoughts and yet, he said nothing of them, merely letting his head bob as if to show he understood, even if he didn't.

Tetradore hardly anticipated the way Matteo suddenly fished for his wallet, bringing out the leather crafted pocketbook to showcase the small gallery of pictures tucked into the plastic sleeves. A small glimpse of surprise crossed his features at the sight of the young girl that Matteo's arm was around, her petite figure made it entirely surprising that she was Matteo's mother and yet....he hardly had any room to judge the girl on her mere appearance considering his own relationship with the Frenchman. By all appearances, Matteo hardly seemed much older then him, if that at all. He glanced over the photo of Matteo's son and newly wedded husband, the picture one of the first he'd seen of the married couple, even though he knew of the King in the photo quite well. He was hardly surprised either to see that derpy dog had earned his own place within Matteo's wallet, the creature still as baffling as a puppy as he was an adult and yet, it was that last photo that caught him off guard, one he'd forgotten had been even taken. He vaguely remembered that moment though not in the way Matteo had. He remembered those cars and how fascinating they had been to see. That idle comment of his hair however, seemed to prompt a sheepish glimpse upon his features at Matteo's hand reached up to ruffle his hair.

Tetradore immediately shoved his companion aside, the man willing to admit defeat as far as his hair was concerned, even going so far as to promise to get it cut when they visited Paris later in the week. He shook his head ever so slightly at Matteo's enthusiasm for that haircut and yet, Tetradore was hardly surprised that the Frenchman had a barber he preferred. Matteo had a tendency to always look trimmed and well put together, even when he wasn't. "Yeah, yeah." He muttered more to himself then his companion as they turned to leave the dead to their resting - those wild flowers the only sign that they had even been there at all. Tetradore was all too content to enjoy their leisurely stroll through the quaint little town, especially with the remainder of Matteo's baguette in hand. They hardly wandered long before Matteo paused in front of a brightly colored shop, the window allow gave him a glimpse at the equally as colorful jars filled to the brims with those candies Matteo used to bring him as a child. The very sight of those sweets prompted a sort of eagerness within him that had, up to this point, been largely lacking.

He reached for one of those paper bags, easily scoffing at the idea of only taking half of a bag when there was a whole store open to him! For years had been forced to placate himself with a few of those peculiar French treats only a handful at a time here and there. To have gift as a whole bag was something Tetradore hardly wished to miss out on. Tetradore moved easily around the periphery of the store, plucking sweets from the glass jars with little concern of cost or how many was polite to take. Several of those candies were easily recognizable by the boy, many others gotten for the sheer color or intrigue of them. His attention deviated from his task only at the sound of a feminine French voice, the woman given little more than a glance before he returned to his task, until the very realization that they were speaking of him.

His emerald gaze turned with a glare towards his companion, his lips pursed together ever so slightly, that look surely showing all of his thoughts of his faux father's comment, even if it managed to prompt ready laughter in the woman. He hardly lingered long on that jab, however, returning to the task at hand. A few final pieces were added to his bag before he moved to join Matteo at the counter. Those bags placed with care only at the amazement of the Frenchman himself. A small shrug crossed Tetradore's shoulders. Thankfully, he hardly had to explain just how and why he had filled that second bag before Matteo shook his head, merely accepting the presence of it all the same before he handed over his credit card. He watched as Matteo retrieved his credit card, the Were-King content to simply lean against the counter as Matteo grabbed those three, filled bags of candy, disappearing near instantly with them. His emerald eyes turned towards the woman across the counter as she made her own effort to introduce herself, her English was surprisingly good, prompting in a short, albeit pleasant enough conversation from the usually stoic man.

Matteo reappeared at his side just a moment or two later, only to gesture with an outreached hand towards Tetradore. His eyebrow rose as he gave his companion the palm of his hand, only for those view pieces of candy to fall in his hand. A soft sound of satisfaction reverberated in his throat as he popped one of those sweets into his mouth, offering a small wave to the woman as he followed Matteo back onto the streets. He chewed on the Pâte de fruit he'd been given as they made their way towards the bikes, those very candies all but inhaled by the time the two men made it back to those dirt bikes, still exactly where they had left them. He pulled those gloves back on as Tetradore resettled upon his own bike, that notion of lunch was more than enough to cause the Were-King to readily take up the suggestion of those country lanes over the forested track. He was all too quick to follow Matteo down those smoother roads, the dirt bikes readily pushed to their max speed as they sped down those empty roads. Those races all to quickly came to a halt, however, as the gates of the chateau loomed above them. Tetradore was altogether aware of just how dirty the pair had gotten at the sheer sight of Matteo's footprints against the once pristine white floors. For a moment, the Were-King hesitated before he stepped over the threshold, his own pants covered with equal amounts of mud, the very sort that hardly went unnoticed by Matteo's butler.

An almost guilty look crossed his features at the bustling man servant and yet, he was quick to follow Matteo through the house, as if the Frenchman would be enough to shield him from the clear discontentment of his servant. It was, however, the presence of lunch that caused his nose to twitch at the mere scents of that decidedly French platter. Tetradore hardly needed any invitation before he took up his own seat at the Kitchen bench, reaching for a piece of ham. He had, admittedly, hardly noticed the housekeeper and her attempt to hide her own task from the Alpha. In fact, it wasn't until the utterance of his name upon Matteo's lips that Tetradore glanced up from his buttered bread, eying the pair with an almost blank look on his features. It was Maria's inquiry that prompted his attention, a small shrug on his shoulders as he reached for a piece of cheese. "It was fine, we got some candy." He responded, as if that very sentences explained his entire day. He nibbled on the cheese in his hand as he conversed with Maria, only for Matteo to dismiss her in some effort to stop Gregory from setting the table with candles. Tetradore's eyebrow rose ever so slightly and yet, he said nothing of it, instead eying that wine glass with some level of vague suspicion.

Tetradore's emerald eyes turned towards his companion as he watched Matteo consume his own piece of cheese, only to comment on the meal they would be having tonight. It was, however, the mention of that cheese that prompted a small grin on his features, even as his shoulders shrugged ever so slightly. "It's cheese." He retorted, knowing well that he was goading the elder fae in the moment. It was good cheese and, to be honest, he understood how this one made that Mac and Cheese dish he grew up on all the more delicious. Still, he made no effort to tell Matteo that lest the fea get that satisfied look on his face he tended to wear when he was right. It was, however, the mention of his birthday that caused his eyebrows to furrow ever so slightly. This was the first true birthday the two would share outside of the dance club, and frankly, it worried him a bit to know the Fae finally had free range for that day Tetradore so often kept to himself. A soft sigh left his lips, "All right." He conceded, though, admittedly, it was that dessert and hot tub that intrigued him more tonight. After all, a birthday was just another day he spent alone - or, with no one else but Matteo, he supposed. Even despite those thoughts that lingered on his mind, it was the fae's words that brought a sly simper to his features before he shrugged again. "You said it." He teased, reaching out to pluck one of those grapes from the tray, popping it into his mouth as he eyed the man that had, peculiarly, become the closest thing he had to a father.

aiden tetradore