stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

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

Harley's wounds have all but healed, save for that little scarred memento of where that infecting bite ravaged her leg. Such insurmountable pain, she had never experienced the likes of before. It was impossible to tell what was worse, the tattoo that Risque had literally peeled off her body, like a sick souvenir the devil woman kept so she could add it to who knows what grotesque collection she kept. Like a creepy serial killer keeping a little something from each one of their victims. It was gross and truthfully the idea of it disturbed her, even now. However, even that too had healed, that once raw and bloody wound was now smooth and flawless, like it never existed in the first place. It bothered her to no avail, that feline vampire queen literally had taken her pound of flesh. Even now, she probably still had the damn thing mounted on her wall, or some other sick and twisted shit Harley could hardly imagine. Don't get her wrong, she enjoyed a good horror movie, but to live it, that was a whole new ball game of screwed up.

Since then her life had been a chaotic blow, she could feel that alteration within her body including the effects of it in her everyday life. Her life as she knew it was obliterated, shattered into a trillion shards and she was sitting there like a dolt trying to make some intricate mosaic with the pieces she had left. She even had to take some time off work because of that unsettling urge to lick people. The raven haired woman had gotten an earful when she ended up in that trance once, hardly in control of her own body when she licked some poor jackass' arm. Food tasted more intense too, she could barely stand the over powering flavours of seasonings, her own skin felt constricting like it was too tight for her body, comparable to there was something always trying to burst through. Clothes only served as an irritant, there was no fabric soft enough that didn't feel like sandpaper. Maybe she could become a nudist. The thought of it sounded like ridiculousness. It had to get better, she would make it better. Somehow.

Her own apartment felt like a constricting cage, each passing day felt like it was narrowing in on her. She had never spent this much time in this damn place. She never realized how small it was, not until now.

She was far too volatile like an active explosive nuclear weapon, she was far too dangerous for her own dog to live with her. How did shit get bad so fast? Isolt took him in and it was the hardest thing she could have done, but she did it all the same because it was the right thing to do. Her own apartment felt like a cage, a very empty one, but it was better than that fucking Ark.

Harley wore a simple black tank with the writing, 'I'm just one big ray of F**king sunshine' in white bold font across her chest. She wore pair of booty shorts for the mere reason she found pants entirely restricting and irritating when she walked. She prowled, on the verge of pacing around her apartment barefoot sporting her scar from the night she wore like a fashion statement. A bitter reminder. With a brief glance, those violet eyes peer at that food with mild interest. It could wait. It was her 5th meal today, overkill, she knew it. She figured she would try to keep that beast stuffed, if only to keep it happy. She was staring at the shattered mirror in her bathroom, a series of cracks made an intricate pattern within the glass. She wasn't even sure how the cracks got there. She needed a new mirror, hell, she needed a new everything.

That was when she thought she heard something, a shift of something and a foot step. She froze in her tracks, she swore she could smell something, more like someone, and damn did they smell good. Too good, like she wanted to rub her scent all over it. She abandoned her original mission, someone was in her apartment, she was so very sure of it. Harley could feel her skin crawl, not bothering to go for the knife she kept next to her bed. She was the weapon now.

She stalked her way right toward the doorframe of her room with silent, carefully placed footsteps, avoiding all the creaks she was aware of. She hesitated in that doorway her eyes honing in on her mysterious visitor, who ended up not being so much of a mystery at all. In fact, he was already staring right at her, she felt her heart constrict for a split moment.

Well at least of all the things she was now, crazy wasn't one of them. She could have sworn she had made up the fairy in her head after he simply just vanished, dematerializing before her very eyes. Only she could concoct something so annoying.

Matteo. In the damn flesh stood with her food precarious balanced with one of his hands and fork poised in the other, like he was holding a plate of hors d'oeuvres just for him. That smug impish grin was all but strikingly familiar. He acted like he had already made himself at home, smug coward. Oh yes, even despite everything, she remembered, every last minuscule detail of that day. In fact, now that it was here, it was boiling with vehemence at the forefront. Oh, she most certainly could not forget this particular man, he had left quite the impression upon on the spitfire's mind. The coward who hid behind his languages and fancy cryptic messages laced within his words. The cheater and the man that seemed to know what shitstorm coming even before she did and didn't say a damn thing.

How the hell did he know where she even lived? Did he magician poof his way in here like he vanished the last time? The whole idea mystifying to her.

Matteo's accented words slid through her apartment with ease to meet her, like he did this all the time, that breaking into someone's apartment was a normal occurrence. That familiar nickname assaulted her before he insulted her food, it nearly brought a full-blown laugh to her lips if she wasn't so on god damn edge. Her mind responded dryly to his comment. Bland and sad like her life. Suddenly, the defiant woman rolled her eyes, scoffing at the notion that this singular plate of food was made for him and him alone. That sharpened gaze rests upon him for a moment, there were many things she wanted to say to him, all at once. Certainly not dressed like this. But most of all she wanted to fly across the room like a god damn lemur and tackle him to the floor, food be damned. "It looks like the coward decided to come to get his ass handed to him for a second time. Why bother when you're just going to run away again?" Oh she knew how goading her words actually were and it felt so good to use them. She padded forward without haste, taking the long way around her table, to the same side he was holding that plate. The smoothness of that gait, even freaked her out a little, how many new muscles did she obtain? With every deliberate step, her very gaze a vibrant narrowed in that well-equipped glare that is all but pinning. All while he took another bite of that sad little potato, taking his damn time like he knew the reaction it would cause in her.

She only stopped before where that plate was, plucking a potato off that plate before popping it into her mouth. Once finished chewing and swallowing it before the words slipped from her lips. She tasted the earth, and the minerals that it took from the ground, the rainwater it sucked up to grow, she tastes so much more than ever before. Even something as bland as that very sad potato as he put it, felt almost overwhelming. Which was good, for the mere reason, the really yummy smelling thing that flooded her apartment was him. She hardly trusted herself not to rub against him all feline like. "It tastes like a potato. That sadness your feeling must be your own for losing so hard last time I saw you. Its ok, it stings less the next time around." That sweet sarcasm hardly failed her now as she smirks that devious little smirk. She can hardly help the provoking words he so seemed to easily draw from her. The balls on this guy, waltzing into her home and eating her food and smirking with such antagonizing smugness! She was certain he wouldn't be able to stomach the meat, it was incredibly rare, cooking it was merely because she wasn't a fucking animal. Oh wait.

He was lucky that her inner feline didn't seem particularly possessive over that food in that moment, in fact, it didn't seem threatened at all by this fairy intruder in the slightest. It was this realization that had Harley convinced that her inner cat was a blasphemous traitor. She crossed her arms across her chest as if to appear more intimidating, lifting her chin in that all too defiant way of hers. He had a lot of nerve showing up here weeks later after their last encounter, along with a good portion of those cryptic messages within his provoking words were decoded now. Not just the ones spoken in French, either.

The unique silvery eyes of Matteo met her own, that impish glean turning serious and perhaps startlingly caring. That look was new, in comparison to the usually teasing expression she would associate with the fae. She found it surprising, it caught the very wildcat she was, off guard, but it still did not provoke any less of a response.

"What? You don't already know?" Harley challenged, she raised a brow in that pointed way, calling him out. She pulled her arm out of that tight cross from across her chest and poked him wherever she could dodge that plate of food, when she uttered the word 'you'. It was as if checking to make sure he wasn't some kind of self-made phantom.

Her eyes suddenly become that violet fire, how they ignite in that way many people considered unsettling. Why bother beating around that god damn bush? "You knew... I don't know how.. But you knew everything and you didn't say a word.. Not a fucking word. I could have left town a for a little bit. Lie low and she would have gotten bored and forgotten about me, like she always does. Not sure if I would believe you if you told me.. but I have a sneaking feeling you can be very convincing when you want to be." There was a sudden surge within her that felt eerily like fur beneath her skin, it brushed against her as if ready to burst out from an explosion within. She took a breath, holding her finger up as if taking a moment to put that beast back in her place. Conveniently, she swallowed it down again, trying to regain that lack of control. Oh no you don't, she seemed to chide the panther, no she needed to be in a form the very form that could give him the most grief. Maybe he caught a glimpse of her eyes changing, that eerie shift from human to not.

His scent was distracting, too distracting. Was he aware of how lovely he smelled?

She wondered if he noticed that the tattoo in memory to her parents was gone. "But to answer your question, I've been through worse.. I feel a little murdery sometimes and I want to rub myself on... everything. But I'm still alive and kicking. I will survive this like everything else. Apparently, I am a tough person to kill." She shrugged. The resilient raven-haired woman was downplaying, right through her pearly white teeth but even that did stop a small smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth at knowing. Knowing she survived this and if she could do that, she could survive anything.

But the real question burning in her mind, sizzling away at her like a hot brand. "Why?" She asked suddenly almost vulnerable, her arms at her side, acting like she was going to do something and doesn't. Harley asked him why as if he knew exactly what she meant by it. He was a clever man, he could figure it out. There were a shit ton of whys he could choose from. After all, all of those riddles were answered, except for maybe one of them. That cursed name in some strange language. "You owe me something after losing. Why not try the truth?" Just like that the vulnerability was gone, as though it never were. One hand was placed on the back seat of the chair next to her while the other plucked a small strip of that barely cooked meat, popping it into her mouth. Serves him right for stealing her fork.

Harley Westward