How very tense she was. Each muscle within her figure coiled and hard strung- and very much like a feline in those moments in which its figure remained poised upon that precipice of fight or flight. He could near feel that tension within her feminine frame even without touching her and yet, as quickly as that anxiety seemed to cease her, his own chuckle and teasing words seemed to see it melt all at once in some maelstrom of fury as she whirled to face him- only to gave way to her own laughter. That rich, ready sound a decidedly pleasant one. Harley, he suspected, not the sort of woman inclined to that genuine laughter very often. That sound a veritable treat he had coaxed her to offer him he was sure and yet- not matter how foolhardy such an ideal might surely sound to any inclined to hear it. That laughter meant far, far more then the ancient Fae so suspected even harley realised. After all, any being whom had faced Risque and could still laugh, still find joy and amusement and good humor in the world was not broken, not yet, not by a long shot. How glorious a sound it was to hear! Harley, it seemed, every bit as strong as he had believed her to be even if she so hardly knew it yet. A part of himself decidedly satisfied at having coaxed that sound from her, that very same part perhaps inclined to a smugness of sorts all the same if only for th knowledge he had denied, in some fashion, another broken toy for That Woman to amuse herself with in the fractured insanity that made up her life. Matteo, for now, casting aside all such considerations that dared to intrude upon his thoughts at the very insistence Harley did not care for the opinions of 'up-tight' potato farmers. The very idea of an uppity farmer prompting that soft sound of amusement to his own lips.

"Because a man who spends his days working the fields and digging within the dirt is so often up-tight."

One eye lifted just so, that singular brow rising as if daring her to argue that very logic as her figure only seemed to relax all the more. How curious it was that, sometimes, all another needed was to be reminded of that humanity once more. To be assured it still existed. To be given a chance to be and act and behave as they always had before whatever tragedy so befell them. Matteo, as always, keeping such thoughts to himself and yet those very considerations perhaps prompted that far more significant query all the same. Harley had, by chance, so crossed into his sons own future and that, in turn, had prompted his own view off her and yet he could so hardly prevent that simple, undeniable care that existed for the woman all the same. Hmmm. Perhaps it had always been his weakness, just as Alexander had assured him time and again. His simple inability not to care about those lives that wandered in and out off his own more often than not leading only to his own heartbreak when they inevitably succumb to their own futures in one way or another and yet- still he cared. He always would. Even despite that very air of nonchalance that seemed to cling to him and that lackadaisical manner that all but personified his existence. Matteo perhaps the greatest liar of them all if only for how well he hid the horrors that danced daily behind his own eyes. They would not understand. They never did. That his burden alone to carry.

The Frenchman had near anticipated that lash of words his query on how she was seemed to unleash. Those tumultuous emotions seeming to tumble in all directions. Harley, in that moment, reminding him almost desperately off his own son. That anger so often shield for something far, far more vulnerable and yet he hardly made any move to dissuade her. Rather, he merely let her offer him every single harsh word she desired. That violet-eyed woman not yet ready to explore the very depth off her emotions, not yet and for tonight he saw little need to push her. Harley seeming to waver upon that very cusp of humanity in that moment as her finger lifted to silence him and she struggled to cage that creature once more. That silence between them persisted for a few moments still. Matteo content to consider his own thoughts, that soft sigh leaving him all the same before he made some effort to....explain his own efforts in this- as he had explained to so many before her- and the far worse future that existed if he had not allowed her to follow the path she had. Harley, appeared near introspective in that moment before her hand waved loosely at the room itself and that simple declaration it was all, somehow, the fault off her own actions. Matteo unable to prevent that near rueful smile that found his features once more as he briefly eyed those sad potatoes again. His head shaking once more before that silvery gaze met her own.

"No, Mon Cherie. This is not the result of your mistakes. It is the result of unfortunate luck, fate and the mistakes of so many others before you. Besides- what one sees as a mistake another does not. A mistake depends upon whom you ask the event that led to it."

Just what those final words meant so remained to be seen. Those accented lyrics soft all the same. Matteo, in some fashion, making an effort to ease that burdan from her if only because he was assured it would do her no good to believe this was all her fault to begin with. Self-loathing but another wound for Risque to feed upon if given the chance. One he had battled for so, so long to keep from his beloved Aiden in turn. His very insistence of what that future might have been and indeed, still held in some capacity, seemed to return that fire to her once more. Harley insisting she had no desire to meet anyone or anything else so connected to Risque in turn. Those accented words finding him again then.

"I fear you are somewhat destined to meet him but, as it happens, I have a fabulous weapon I will allow you to borrow- one that is terribly effective against him."

That near impish grin so suddenly seemed to find his features again. Matteo's hand waving then to summon that plate of butter. His attention abruptly upon those potatoes of sadness that he could no longer stand to see upon that plate in their current state. They were nought but a sin upon his tongue, he was assured of it. The fact Harley believed they were acceptable perhaps even more so. He moved easily then, those actions near second nature. One ingredient after the other was summoned to his hands before being placed upon the table until that very space near resembled a spice rack all its own. Harleys queries on her newfound tendencies prompted that chuckle from his lips as he worked. The Frenchman making every effort to assure her those feelings were unlikely to last and surely the result of her decided newness to the animal world. Aiden, after all, rarely spoke of feeling 'murdery'. His further mention off her future seemed to prompt her curiosity once more, Matteo offering an easy shrug by way of response he knew was decidedly irritating to her in turn before she demanded he tell her something good. That flare of red so readily overtook his gaze once more and yet his attention remained upon those potatoes, whether or not she had seen that very flare so reamiend to be seen before he glanced upward to eye the dark-haired beauty before him. How readily she dared him with that look and how readily he so rose to that challenge. Oh how little she knew of who she challenged in her games yet- how very much he enjoyed her all the same.

"Hmm, your future assures me that I am destined to provide you with at least one heavenly experience tonight."

How very much those words might mean. Those french lyrics laced with that innuendo once more as that decided impishness found him again, Harley offered that glorious grin. Those final touches were added to those potato halves then. Matteo swatting away her fingers as they reached toward those slices. That very question of 'why' so hanging near heavily in the air between them. That very query distracting him from that seasoning if only to allow him to offer her.....the best answer he could. She deserved that truth, if nothing else. His words, however, only seemed to bring her more irritation. Ah, but was not such the burden of a mind so quick and sharp as her own? How often people such as she found the right answers- only to overthink them and become lost in the what if's that so often came in turn. Her insistence he was by far the most cryptic person she had ever met readily returning that amusement to his features.

"I shall take that as a grand compliment. It took a very long time for me to become so cryptic. As it is however, Mon Cherie, let me be less then cryptic with you for once. When I say that, in the end, all will be well, I mean just as I say. In the end- you will be alive and free."

Even if that very struggle would prove to be by far the most difficult off her life. Matteo, for now, hardly choosing to darken that very hope he so attempted to foster all the same. Hope, after all, was far, far more powerful than anything that vampire woman could ever hope to summon against any of them. Those potatoes were, at last, finally deemed ready by the near ancient Fae. Matteo pushing that half toward her then before lifting his own to his lips. That taste of salt and garlic and butter nothing short of glorious. The Frenchman hardly missing that look of delight that seemed to find her features. How pleasing it was to see someone enjoy his food. Harley admitting that taste was akin to heaven within her mouth. Matteo allowing that knowing grin to find him then. That near elaborate bow that had become a near trademark of the Far offered then.

"Ah, your first heavenly experience then. I was right again."

That ready chuckle hummed softly within his throat then at his prediction having come to pass. Matteo insisting he would take his thanks for that meal whenever she was prepared to offer it before that sudden insistence he had but one more thing to offer her. How easy it was to allow that affinity to embrace him. Matteo appearing behind her slender figure as he had done before. The warmth off her frame against his own decidedly pleasing and yet, this time, he made no effort to touch her. The simple memory of last time surely enough. Her figure seeming to lean into him and grow tense all at once. How intriguing. How much he desired to see how easily he might....coax that tenseness from her and yet- she owed him a victory still. One he was assured was his and one she denied. Those French words fell near whisper soft against her skin before that translation was offered. Her head turned just enough to meet his gaze and utter that defiant answer. She had gotten bolder. Somehow. How long it had been since anyone had been so....daring in his presence? That simper coaxed to his own lips yet again. How easy it would be to draw her against him and begin to undo those threads of control all over again.

"I declared a draw to spare your pride. When I had already won. Perhaps you are right though. Perhaps I remember that treacherous heart of yours wrongly. Do you think it would give you up again?"

Those equally soft words were no less goading then before, even despite the sweetness with which they were offered and the amusement that seemed to linger within them all at once. Matteo shifting ever so slightly closer against her feminine figure, his lips hovering in that perfect tease just above her creamy skin all over again if only to caress the very memory he knew lingered just below the surface off and she worked so desperately hard to conceal. That teleportation gripping him suddenly once more to relieve her of the pressure off his presence. Matteo, this time, appearing upon her couch in that decidedly laconic position. Harley, it seemed, had forgotten her unfortunate loss the last time they had played. Perhaps they need play again. The hint of surprise so readily finds his silvered gaze once more as she suddenly strode towards him with that newfound feline grace, those very words on her lips nothing short off his own. That very look of smugness oddly suited to her features. She paused at the very base of that couch he occupied. The Frenchman's lips so parting to speak only for Harley to all but fall onto that couch. The young woman proceeding to slide along the length off his figure then only to lie against him, her face nuzzling softly into his neck with a near feline satisfaction. When would he learn?

"Not tonight, I do not think."

He uttered softly, that faint simper tugging at his features still. Harley proceeding to insist then that he could not handle her. Not now and not ever. Her lips pressing to his own neck then, that delicate trace of her tongue against his flesh hardly missed. Matteo unable to deny the distinct pleasure he took from that very gesture or indeed that simple want for her to continue with those very kisses. That press off her figure to his own equally as enticing. How long had it been since anyone had offered her....genuine closeness? Since they had satisfied those very desires and yet stayed long enough to hold her in turn? Matteo, in that moment, wholly content to merely let that feline part of the woman satisfy itself entirely as she all but gave in to that need to rub her cheek against his own. That very gesture oddly endearing. Thatwarm simper upon his own lips hardly failing as she lent back to eye him once more before asking why he smelled so damn good. That ready laughter falling from him then.

"I think it is because I wear very nice cologne."

Her gaze was nothing short of vibrant in that moment as she looked down upon him once more. Harley so clearly assured she had won this time. His own actions and words turned against him. Matteo perhaps willing to admit she had....surprised him once more with her unflinching determination and utter boldness so rare for her day and age and yet he had danced this very dance for so very, very long. Those French words upon her own lips oddly satisfying to hear offered to him in return. That very insistence she was sure he desired to teleport away again not answered just yet. Matteo instead unfolding his hands from behind his head, one arm extending to rest at her hip, his fingers daring to trace against the exposed flesh from where her shirt had ridden up off its own accord. The near ancient Fae so simply allowing the tips off his fingers to trace against that smooth skin of her side before sweeping idly downward to dance against her hip and the hem of those very short pants. That soft, sweeping pattern so soft, so simple and yet so designed tease at those very nerves beneath with that unspoken promise off all he might be capable off when his fingers alone so effortlessly caressed that skin.

"Do you know why it really is you think I smell so good? Do you care to know the truth?"

How warmly he offered those accented words. His fingers continuing to trace that idle pattern like his own form of tattoo against her skin. Those lazy circles and lines that dipped ever precariously against the hemline of her shorts hardly faltering as that very gesture so sought to lull her into a contentment of sorts. Once perhaps given away by that decided impishness that clung to his features all at once and was so hinted at within the touch of a simper that danced upon his lips. Each and every touch so returning that very game right back toward her as had become their habit of sorts.

"You see, Mon Cherie. Humans are difficult, they are not always clear in what they desire. Animals are far more simple. At the heart of it all they desire a mate. They look for someone who is fit, healthy, strong, capable of fathering children and providing for a family. It is how nature works and how species survive..."

How readily she most likely knew such things even if she had not quite yet so made that very realisation of just where those accented words might yet be leading her or that very animalistic part of herself he so referred to then.

"I smell so appealing to you because that decidedly feline part of yourself, that animalistic part that runs upon instinct, has quite decided that it thinks I would be a very nice mate. In other words, vous pensez que je suis chaud."

How readily that near smug simper returned so infuriatingly to his features, his free hand lifting then the rest beneath her chin. Those final words utterly teasing and so designed to goad her once more.

"You think I am, how you say?......Hot."


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