How readily he could hear that destruction occurring within the house below him. Matteo seeking refuge upon that roof from the man below whose grief and pain had contorted itself into utter outrage at the world itself. He should not, perhaps, have pushed Andras so far as he did and yet, here and now was as good a moment as any to coax that near equally ancient Fae into simply releasing that pent up emotion that had built like a veritable toxin in his veins. It was surely better, after all, that such rage was released at Matteo himself rather then some other innocent being whom might find themselves caught in the crosshairs of Andras' furry and misplaced frustration. It was near impressive, truly, to witness the other Fae's power in those moments. Matteo capable of feeling that energy within Andras even from the roof itself as the man all but levelled his own apartment. How very powerful that other man surely was when in full control off himself and not merely recklessly up-ending his own furniture and throwing about those lamps. Matteo distinctly lucky to have avoided that first chair at all. His speed of teleportation surely the only thing saving him from falling victim to Andras' hands. That veritable cyclone carries on beneath him for quite some time. Matteo content to merely wait. His own attention turned upon the sky above though he hardly knew what he looked for any longer. Would Amity have approved of him driving her son to madness? Perhaps not. She would surely have chastised him for it. That very notion prompting some faint simper to his lips before the sounds of the violence below finally ceased.

That affinity so grasped him once more. Matteo reappring within that home a mere moment later. The house all but....destroyed. His silver gaze shifted briefly to that kitchen then, the sound of running water drawing his attention to one of those torn open walls. The water pipe within having suffered several slashes that saw the water fountain out onto the kitchen tiles to run in a slow-spreading pool. This- would take some repairing. For now however the state of the home was hardly his greatest concern. Matteo far more inclined to fixate his attention upon the other Fae whom had at last collapsed onto that couch with his head in his hands. His own hand reached out then, resting gently upon Andras' shoulder, the man's body almost overly hot to the touch and yet given the energy he'd exerted it was probably hardly surprising. The other Fae hardly responded to that touch or the utterance off his name, at least, not at first. Andras remained silent several more moments before his hands at last dropped from his face and his gaze met Matteo's own. The elder Fae's features softening readily now at the sheer vulnerability that seemed to dance in Andras' own eyes in that moment. How readily he knew the man's pain. After all, who among them had not felt this sort of grief before at least once? It was nearly inevitable in their long lives. His own accented words came again quietly then. His hand gently squeezing Andras shoulder.

"She will forgive you, Andras. I promise you that. I have already seen it. She will smile again too. I have seen that as well. You have not ruined her life. Changed it yes, extended it yes, but not ruined it, Mon Amie. Far from it. She would not have lived had you not changed her. You have forever to make things right with Lani- and you will. You cannot change what is done now. It is done. But you can make the future a truly glorious one if you are willing."

That soft simper so found his lips in that effort to encourage the other man not to cling to that guilt he knew so surely turned within him all the same and yet- would that guilt not be just as great had he allowed Lani to die as Matteo himself had let Isabella all those years ago? That apology upon the younger man's lips prompting that shake off his own head.

"You do not need to apologise, Mon Amie. At least, not to me, your house perhaps....is another matter. I suspect your kitchen is flooding. I suggest we attend to that first but then, yes, I would not say no to a drink."

That soft chuckle easily found his lips once more. That kitchen would take far more repairs than either man was surely capable off tonight and yet shutting off that water from the main, in the least, would surely prevent any further water damage or flooding.

"I owe you my own apology too. You are not at all a man like your Father. Nothing like him, in fact. What I said about your Mother and I was very true- though it should surely have been offered to you more delicately. As it was I was simply trying to make you mad. I think you needed to, how you say? Yell a little."


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