Matteo

It's tough to be a god

He had known it would irritate her to have that very silence thrust agianst her like the proverbial weapon she believed it was not. He so hardly needed any ability to peer into the future to know that. He could see that irritation, that confusion, that conflicting as it danced upon her features before his ruse was so revealed. Harley declaring she had no words for his perceived transgression here and now and yet- whether she cared to accept it or not- his point had well been proven. Matteo unable to prevent that faint simper that danced with a delicate display upon his lips. Harley's sudden to demand to know if he could truly keep that demeanor in the face of Darcy or worse, Risque, was unanticipated. The Frenchman momentarily pausing in consideration of that very question as he rested across from his companion. Matteo knowing that answer well before he had even truly considered the depths of its implications. A soft snort forced from within him then before affording Harley nothing short of the truth. Could he keep that resolve?

"In front of Darcy, yes. In front of Her, no."

Ah, but how many times had he considered just what he might desire to say to Risque were he given the chance! There was no time for silence in that imagined meeting. Not when there was so much left unsaid between them both. For how many centuries had he played those conversations in his mind and so imagined how they might transpire? Yet, in the end, they always ended the same way. Her death wholly satisfying to him even if somewhere, impossibly deep within the very depths of his soul, some failing and fragmented part of himself still mourned his friend. How he hated himself for it. For feeling but anything for the creature whom was the result of so, so much of his own torment and the destruction of Aiden's own life. Yet, perhaps it was not truly her he felt but any glimmer of pity for but rather.....that part of her she had lost. That humanity. The part of her whom had once been his companion and existed no more. All that was left was a mere shell of a being filled with nothing but hatred and discord and chaotic resolve. One whom lived upon borrowed time even now. Perhaps it was that he should take solace in. Matteo, for now, casting those thoughts aside as that cutlery fell back upon the table. His intrigue, now, very much the display of that affinity. How very...intriguing that it was metal that might call to Harley and yet the near irony of that affinity was hardly lost upon him. She need only learn to master it. The raven-haired woman seeming near doubtful of her skills. Tequila, she insisted, would always be there to sooth her wounds. The woman assured that the power to become the sun would have been far more applicable. Matteo chuckling softly in response.

"I will help you with your affinity, Mon Cherie. I know very little about talents with metal but we can learn together, no?"

In the very least his own presence might yet spark that motivation within her to continue to work upon those very gifts. Harley, he suspected, the sort of woman inclined to be obstinate for obsinates sake and ignore those powers if only because she could or because she did not yet understand their true value. Her very plan to flee the country was, perhaps, less practical then she desired to believe. His use of those Swedish words seeming to prompt a new wave of irritation upon her features. Matteo inclined to chuckle once more, that sound abruptly cut short by the impact of her shoe to his leg.

"Ow! Harley! I shall not help you with your Swedish at all now."

This, he suspected was not the sort of threat that might concern the woman at all. His silver gaze rolling softly all the same as she tried and failed at those Swedish words. His head merely inclined to shake in a disappointed gesture. That very offer, of sorts, to explain his own powers to some degree so seemed to ensnare her interest. The Frenchman promising to offer that explanation later in the evening, Harley quick to insist she would not forget before so commenting on her current state. Matteo inclined to suggest that, or late, she was not the most damaged being he had come to the aid off. His companions near wise observation that, in life, there was always someone whom so had it worse was nothing if not astute in itself and yet, that very evening, Matteo had been wholly inclined to believe that no one had suffered worse then Aiden. In the very least his son must surely have been among the top contenders for that proverbial prize that no one sought to be awarded. How it....pained him even now to consider that night when he had tried so desperately to hold together those pieces off his son. Harley, for now, requiring a little less of his physical support and more of his simple presence perhaps to coax from her those emotions and thoughts that might otherwise be left to turn near septic within her thoughts and so eventually riddle her like the plague itself. Risque, even now, seemed all but content to spread her disease of despair. The young woman's sudden query on whether or not that being he had assisted was alive so brought his gaze to the striking violet of her own once more, his head nodding.

"Yes, they are."

If only barely. The Fae seeing little need to add such disparaging words to his sentence. The Frenchman assured beyond all doubt that had nature been left to take its course that very evening then Aiden would have passed away on the cold tiles of his bathroom floor.Death having clung to his some with a near vicious embrace that night. Yet, if that very assurance that Aiden still lived gave Harley hope in turn who was he to take it away. Hope, after all, had far more power then any truly gave it credit for. Those bowls of soup and buttered bread were quick to disappear. Harley, once reacquainted with food, evidently near ravenous. Her strength returning with each mouthful along with her sarcastic, if not playful nature. Ah, but how he enjoyed her return to her more usual self! The Frenchman distinctly fond of the woman. Indeed he found her...very likeable.Perhaps more likeable then he surely should. Such thoughts turning within his mind as he took a final mouthful of his own meal and Harley commented upon someone or something called named Marty-O. Matteo insisting he knew nothing about any such being even if that faint simper so surely gave away that very game. Harley's own laughter was near cut short by those injuries that restricted the sound at yet it was pleasing to hear all at once. Matteo content to inquire then after what she had learned. The Frenchman determined her nights spent in that place would not be in vain. Her words prompting an inquisitiveness to his features in turn.

"He has tells?"

Darcy was, perhaps, one of the few whom Matteo himself had not spent a truly great deal of time in the study of. He had learned of the man what he needed and little more. The Fae curious now of that intel Harley had discovered. The woman sat abruptly upward then. Matteo eyeing her in clear surprise as she declared she may yet not need those key cards. The doors within Syn, after all, were made of metal. Hmm. It was an intriguing thought. A clever one at that. The Frenchman sharing his own thoughts then.

"Many of the doors are Silver, a weakness to your species, this may weaken your power over them but there is still every chance it may work to some degree. Enough to move a latch is all you need. I recommend trying that power out on something made of solid silver as practice before you return to Syn."

It would not do, after all, for her to be caught attempting to manipulate those doors within Syn itself. Harley's very insistence that she desired to borrow a rocket launcher from him only furthered that simper upon his features. Much of the woman's spirit, it seemed, eager to return now that her hunger had been momentarily quelled. Her features hardly betraying as to whether or not she truly did desire such a weapon. Matteo at last allowing his shoulders to shrug.

"I do have a rocket launcher but no, you may not borrow it, Mon Cherie. I feel the city maynot be safe if it were in your hands."
One eye lifted just so. The Frenchman near daring her to argue that very point before his attention so turned to perhaps the most pressing issue. Her wounds. He could see from here how very much they pained her. That vampire bit likely the source of most of her discomfort. After all, even without that venom the bite of a vampire so tended to be....bacteria filled. Such a thing baffling, truly, given the amount of car most vampires took with dental hygiene. That bite sure to be infected by now. His determination to repair it so requiring the removal of Harley's shirt. His very suggestion of it stealing that look to her pretty features before his own laughter filled that room once more. How easily she had walked into that very tease! Yet, playful or otherwise, that wound truly did need assistance. Harley loath to admit her need for help. The Raven haired woman determined that any talk of his helping her would be a breach of their kiss and tell contract. Matteo so allowing that eye to lift again in clear amusement.

"I can agree to that."

He offered those accented words smoothly as Harley, more determined this time, made her way to her feet. The Frenchman moving to step around behind her with ease then to assist in ridding her figure of that rather...destroyed jacket. How unfortunate. How very...appealing she had surely looked in that jacket before Darcy had ruined it. The removal of that jacket however, was far easier than that shirt was sure to be. Lifting her arms so requiring aggravation of that wound. Harley desiring to be reminded not to be bitten again.

"I shall remind you, Mon Cherie."

His fingers easily caught at the hem of her shirt, his free hand coming to rest gently at her waist if only to keep her still. That near silken smoothness to her skin hardly lost upon him. How very much he would have enjoyed exploring it! The Fae near assured he could summon those goosebumps to her flesh all off his own accord and without even a hint of the cold that coaxed them to her skin now. Ah, but surely such thoughts were sinful things when the woman within his arms was in but no condition for such actions. Such a pity. How very exquisitely lovely she was. It was a near painfully slow process, to lift that shirt as far as her arms. Matteo attempting to spare those wounded parts of her as much as possible. His promise to speak of his own power hardly forgotten. The Frenchman offering those accented words then as he worked with that shirt. A distraction of sorts, to steal her mind from that pain and the unpleasantness of so having another take those clothes from her in response to her own helplessness. That concern within her own voice hardly missed, his own features froning but slightly at those tones. It had been rather a long time since another had shown concern for his own well-being over those visions. Few outside of Alexander ever truly querying them. How very strange that a woman he had known only months might show that near....genuine worry. Matteo meeting her questions with honesty then, after all, there was few true secrets in the working of his 'gifts'. Her very mention of that alcohol prompting that gentle chuckle agianst the back of her neck.

"I have not had those seizures in a very long time but, on occasion, yes, they still occur. Some visions I cannot block. As for alcohol- it numbs my powers, it makes them...more bearable some days. I have, more than once in my life, used alcohol, shall we say, irresponsibly? Who among us though, has not had days when we simply do not wish to feel?"

Was it not true? Harley, he knew, with the very life she had led so surely understood that desire to simply cease to feel, even for a little while. To chase away those visions so allowed him but a moment of reprieve from the world itself. A few hours of blissful silence within his mind even if he so surely paid for it the next day. Another soft sigh fell gently from him then. His head shaking though she was surely unaware. Her own turning as much as she could to eye him then, that faint simper tugging at his lips.

"No, I cannot turn them off, not....completely. Not unless I render myself unconscious. As for sanity, I have wondered more then once if I am sane at all. I must be, if you are asking me of it."

That gentle chuckle hummed within his throat once more, Harley straightening near instantly at that soft touch of air agianst the nape of her neck, that simper upon his own lips widening just so before he moved to step to her front now with that assurance she would need lift her arms now. Harley assured she was a 'baby' when injured.

"Ah, darling, they name an entire flu after men because our entire gender becomes useless when afflicted by it. Women however, do not complain without reason. I think your injuries are reason enough."

How effortlessly he so sought to justify her own pain and whatever feelings she had from it. Matteo gently raising that shirt then as Harley lifted her arms, the Fae near wincing in turn at the sight of the damage done and the pain it surely caused for her arms to lift. That cuss upon her lips entirely deserved, Harley quick to duck out of that shirt as soon as possible and lower her arms as that ruined fabric was tossed aside. A cakewalk she said. His own words genuine now.

"You did very well."

How readily his silver gaze so lingered upon her figure in that moment. Even injured though she was those curves and soft swells of her feminine figure were nothing short of...appealing. His gaze drifting to meet her own with that near impish look. The Frenchman quick to assure her with a sheepish delight that she had a truly lovely pair of....eyes. Tose very eyes rolled toward him then, harley shooing him away with her good arm and the insistence he had used his free pass, Matteo own lips quirking upward once more as he moved to step back around and behind her.

"I regret nothing."
How very much more he might surely have enjoyed teasing her! Yet, that wound, for now, was perhaps far more important. Matteo content to return to that explanation of his own powers then as a further distraction from that use of his affinity. The frenchman so attempting to craft but one of those situations, those choices, that so afflicted him near every day and hundreds of times over. His fingers pressed to that wound as he spoke, the man so attempting to be nothing if not impossibly gentle, his own power so rapidly beginning to work upon that wound as Harley in turn puzzled the ethics and morals of those choices. An impossible choice she said and oh how very right she was. An impossible choice with no right answer. No obvious solution. One that resulted in...heartache no matter what he chose. Someone, every time, would hate him for those choices he made. Resent him for not choosing them when he desperately desired not to choose at all. If there was some grand purpose to why he had been given such powers he hardly knew. Was there some choice he was destined to make to set the world afire? What had he ever done to deserve such a thing as that? Harley's sudden announcement that it tickled so stole his thoughts once more. The woman insisting she might yet flail.

"Flailing i think would not be good for your arm, I am nearly done, stay still, Mon Amie."

Harley so continued then. Matteo near....surprised at the wisdom of one so young. Her words reminding him of Alexander's own in a way as she sought to assure him that he was not to blame, that he could not be blamed for all the choices in the world. That his purpose, perhaps, was to choose to help 'his' people because in the end, the world would continue anyway. Matteo remained silent for several moments still as that wound finished healing. A near soft admittance at last uttered toward her.

"I let him drown too."

That such a situation had not been hypothetical was surely clear in that moment. Matteo announcing that repair of her wound in near the same moment, as if stepping from that darkened memory and into that metaphorical light all at once. Harley appearing near baffled that he had finished so soon before moving to examine her entirely healed body. That assurance he had worked miracles prompting that simper to his lips again. Matteo affording her that near infamous bow.

"Ah, I fear showering is a task you must do in the traditional way. Though i recommend you do so soon. We will be late otherwise."

Late for what, it seemed, was destined to go unmentioned. Matteo stepping from around her once more to lean near casually agianst that dining room table, one long leg folding over the other, hir arms folding loosely across his chest as he regarded her. That grin upon her features decidedly pleasing before she insisted she had prepared something for their deal. Surprise momentarily crossing his own features. His silver gaze lingered upon her then as she moved across that kitchen to pluck something from the cupboard and hurry back towards him, those chocolates held out to him then as he moved to take them. Harley regaling him with where each had come from and the time spent with that store clerk as he eyed those treats within. The woman at last so admitting he had won that bet.

"Ah, magnifique, but I think, Mon Cherie, it was a joint effort, no?"

That caramel chocolate was plucked smoothly from within the box and slipped between his lips, the box itself held toward Harley then to offer the woman one of those sweets in turn. That chocolate nothing short of exceptional. The taste wonderfully appealing.

"It has been a long time since a woman in a bra has offered me chocolates. If we had some wine and a fireplace it would be a most magical evening."

That impish grin so returned to his features then. Matteo near anticipating his companions ire over that very thing. The Frenchman leaning abruptly forward then to press his lips to her cheek in that stolen gesture of affection.

"Thank you for the chocolate, Mon Cherie. I look forward to the card."

He lent easily backward then, a second chocolate plucked from that box and tossed into his mouth his that same casual ease before he nodded toward that bathroom and shower.

"You best see to your shower now, as I said, we will be late otherwise. Our ride is growing impatient. Can you manage the shower alone or do you require assistance?"

That teasing simper so tugged at his features but a final time. Matteo chuckling softly once more if only for that very look upon the woman's face.

"Oh, Harley, put this on when you get out."

That dark blue hooded jacket was summoned easily to his hand then, Matteo holding it toward Harley to take. That embossed 'Blue Moon Lagoon' logo, the wolf so biting at the half moon, was clear upon the back of that jacket.

"We are going to, how you say, start a war."