Matteo

It's tough to be a god

If only that young woman so knew of the plethora of memories that existed at but even the mention of that nickname she had chosen to afford him! It was almost....curious, that of all the methods in which his name might be shortened, that of all the things she might so choose to callhim by, that Harley might choose that single moniker that had perhaps the most meaning behind it. How curious Fate might prove to be at times. Even he, as its very envoy of sorts, was still often taken aback by its plan. If Fate was some sort of entity that possessed any sort of ability for judgement or emotion he looked forward, one day, to confronting it with his very thoughts upon just this sort of thing. Yet- for all the veritable....heartache so attached to that name he so hardly found himself willing to ask that raven-haired woman not to use it. It had been....far to long since he had heard it said and perhaps, after all these years, it was time to replace those memories attached to it with newer ones. To replace the sound of Risque's voice uttering that name with that of Harleys- in all her sarcastic, defiant, determined glory. Risque had taken so much from him already- perhaps it was time he so began to take those very things back. Even if they were but the smallest of memories. It was Harley's own voice then that interrupted that momentary consideration within his thoughts, the young woman asking whether or not he disliked that moniker she had chosen. Matteo inclined to afford her that soft shake of his head. His silver gaze lifting easily to her own then as a faint simper so found his lips once more.

"I like it quite fine, Mon Amie. I have merely not heard it in a very long time. It is what my Mother used to call me, when she lived. A friend of mine too used to use it. She died a very long time ago though. It is about time someone used that name again."

That simper upon his lips widened but momentarily before that sounds of those displeased vampires distracted his gaze once more. Matteo, in that moment, shifting to stand closer to Harley, his arm wrapping about her shoulders to draw her agianst him in that simple act of camaraderie as they watched the outcome of their work upon that place. That chas, after all, had been a joint effort. Harley, in knew, but the very sort of being whom would not forget this moment of weakness seen upon her captors. The Frenchman so desiring that, in those nights to come when the night might seem....impossibly dark, that she might be inclined to remember those vampires were not Gods. No matter how much they might seek to display it or believe it. They too held their weakness. They were not infallible. Hope, after all, was perhaps the most potent of things if only it could be remembered to be considered. Harley lent easily into his embrace then as that sun so at last began to peak over that horizon. Risque, by that light itself, forced to relinquish her hold upon any of those cats she had managed to seize once more and retreat back into the darkness. That collection of felines afforded those precious hours of daylight to make their escape. How those individuals chose to use that time so entirely of their own decision. Matteo inclined to hope that some, in the least, might make their way back to family whom had been missing them so long. The warmth of his companion agianst him so entirely...distracting from those cats once more as that blazing sun so began to paint the sky in those blues and reds and golds and violets of sunrise. How many he had seen in his long life and yet how ...glorious this very one so seemed. That very fire in turn so having returned to Harley. Her violet gaze, coloured like flame by that rising sun, seeming all the more vibrant in those moments. That very fight within her restored. His very task for that evening fulfilled and yet- he so found his gaze lingering all the same. How very...appealing that young woman looked in that light of the rising sun. How very lovely her features were, femanien and defined despite that near spitfire attitude. Ah, but those places his thoughts might go to!

It was that mention of her power that so prompted that near tease from him once more. Matteo rewarded, as he knew he surely would be, with that ready sarcasm as he turned to face Harley beside him then. The raven-haired woman insisting that bigger was surely better. Matteo so allowing one eye to raise at that veritable suggestion behind her words, that amusement clear upon his features as a chuckle found its way to his throat. Harley insisting that she would sooner go out with a bang than a whimper. Matteo ear assured that phrase had been uttered within the depths of history more then once and yet he said little upon it in that moment. His head merely afforded a subtle shake.

"That, Mon Cherie, I believe of you. As for my being worried I think it is my curse, to worry about those who do not worry about themselves nearly so much as they should. It is why I shall require the hitting stick. Then you will listen better."

That eye lifted but once more in playful delight. The sounds of Risque storming inside coaxing but another chuckle from within him before the near ancient Fae so returned to that task at hand and that single, final act he so desired to commit agianst that vampiric bar. That key card was taken smoothly from Harleys hand. Matteo so affording her that ostentatious bow that had near come to define him before he so promptly disappeared. He reappeared but moments later within the depth of Risque's room, the darkened silence of that place almost...unnerving and yet with that task at hand Matteo cared little to consider its silence. The light of that lamp he sought to return to her quickly illuminating that space with a softened glow. The sudden sounds of someone else so readily prompted his gaze sideways as Darius, with harley in tow, so materialised upon that very rug in the center of that ridiculously large space. Matteo, this time, unable to prevent that look of displeasure he offered his equine companion. Later- they would speak of this. Harley existing within that room a decidedly dangerous affair- a risk Matteo had been unwilling to take and yet one that was seemingly forced upon him now. Harley, for her part, so hardly appearing concerned with their predicament as she offered him that return of his own words. Matteo so inclined to consider for the second time this very evening that the devil truly was within this woman and yet he could hardly help that simper that found his lips all the same. Matteo allowing his eyes to roll lightly in response before she sought to defend Darius in turn. The stallion pinning his ears towards him before offering that single stamp of his hoof as if the throw his unwavering support behind Harley's words. Ah, so it was a coup agianst him. Both eyes lifted upward then. Amusement lacing his words all the same.

"Save my ass? I think my ass can teleport itself, but yours cannot. Are you sure it is mine that needs saving?"

That tease found those words easily and yet, Harley was here now, she might as well take that opportunity to look about that room. Matteo warning her from moving those items all the same lest Risque become aware they were out of place. It would hardly do, after all, for the vampiric woman to turn her obsessive nature into hunting for but any shred of detail about just what, or who, had been within her room. Matteo so intending for her focus to remain upon that club at large and the plethora of possibilities for potential violators of its sanctity. Within that veritable crowd of possibility, after all, Harley and himself would be far to obscure choices for her to ever consider. Matteo;s attention shifted away from that lamp then and toward that beside table and nearby dresser, his silver gaze content to wander over those personal items, those very things that seemed so very....human. Harley's protest drew his gaze away from that singular framed picture then to rest upon the raven-haired beauty as she cast him a look over her shoulder in turn. The woman so accusing him of worrying to much! Him! As if she did not truly perceive the danger of lingering within Risques very bedroom. The vampiric woman sure to have them hung, drawn and quartered for such an offense. Matteo so merely shaking his head once more before his attention returned to that picture frame that displayed that vampiric woman and her own lover. That picture one of the few he had seen in...centuries in which Risque truly appeared....happy. That simper upon her lips seemingly genuine as so few looks ever were.

Harley made her way towards him then. The young woman peering at that photograph in turn only to note what Matteo himself had but moments ago considered. That look of genuine pleasure upon Risque's features so distinctly rare it had become a veritable myth as to whether it existed at all. Matteo's own silver gaze shifted to that cat that prowled at the front of the portrait. The moon behind bathing that couple in a near ethereal light. The picture, despite its subject manner, decidedly well taken. Harley's hand reached for that nearest bottle then, the woman uncapping that french perfume despite his own earlier warning not to touch anything within that space. Children. Incorrigible. Matteo so affording her a near pointed look before commenting upon that mate status Risque and Darcy had so bestowed upon one another, his own features inclined to frown if only slightly in a clear...curiosity of that very thing. The Frenchman gently uttering his very knowledge of those vampiric relationships as Harley appeared to look upon him with wonderment once more. That idea of a mate of life seeming to strike the woman as cute....in 'fucked up' way as Harley so delicately put it. Matteo inclined to agree. Those accented words finding him once more.

"I am not a vampire so I can hardly attest to the truth of it but, I have known many vampires in my life and from what they have told me, vampires have ...very heightened emotions. When they feel, they feel strongly, sometimes overwhelmingly so- though it often manifests itself as anger. Vampire relationships with other vampires are often very volatile, but those bonds run very deep. They are territorial too, which likely only strengthens that mated bond."

It was a curious thing, that vampiric nature. Alexander and himself having spent some time in the study of that very thing and yet here and now was hardly the time to consider those in depth revelations. That very notion that there was 'someone for everyone' inclined to prompt that less than pleasant thought within his mind all the same. Matteo inclined to believe that perhaps fate truly did assign a being for everyone and yet- he was assured not every being deserved it. Those more bitter thoughts, for now, cast aside, in the wake of Harley curiosity on vampiric anniversaires. A ready chuckle finding his lips then.

"My eldest son is married to a vampire. I will ask him what they do on anniversaries."

That near wry grin so found his lips once more as Harley wandered from him to explore the rest of that room. Matteo taking that moment to assure that perfume bottle had been placed exactly where Risque had left it before he moved to peer further along that dresser, his gaze lingering briefly upon those paintings that adorned the walls and the decidedly extravagant tv. His attention returned again to that beside table, Matteo momentarily considering just which side he believed Risque slept upon before opening the draw of that table. Such places, after all, were usually where those most intriguing secrets were kept. That draw so hardly disappointed in any sense, Matteo eyeing several pieces of paper, some of them thoroughly aged. Letters perhaps. That paper far to frail for him to risk opening them, the Frenchman delicately sliding those papers aside to examine the rest of the draws contents. Makeup, moisturizer and a nail kit were of little interest to him, several pieces of jewellery also moved aside before a flicker of gold at the very back of the drawer so readily drew his attention. The ancient Fae so carefully extracted that terribly fine golden chain, undeniably French in its origin, that gold finely crafted to resemble the leaves of those trees native to his own homeland. Such a piece so hardly Risques style and yet.....it had been, once. When she had been alive. All those years and she still had it. How well he remembered the night he'd given it to her....

Harley, for her part, had disappeared into that lengthy, extravagant walk in wardrobe. Women, it seemed, were like moths to a flame when it came to clothing. Risque nothing short of Harley's most hated enemy and yet the woman could hardly stop herself from examining those clothes with a look of awe. The sounds of the WerePanther so undoubtedly touching what she should not promoting the Frenchman to return that little chain to its place, those papers neatly placed back atop it before that draw was pushed closed. Matteo crossed that room then to peer into the wardrobe just as those lights seemed to suddenly turn on within it. Those rows upon rows of clothing illuminated as if they stood within a shopping mall. How very....Risque. Those muttered words beneath Harleys breath were hardly missed, Matteo unable to suppress that chuckle once more before that very affinity for the immediate future so that red glow return to his gaze with sudden force. Harleys impending ...surprise mere moments away from occurring if that vision rang true and yet- he saw little need to prevent it. The young woman's hand reached out then, seeking to touch the fabric of one of those outfits only for that Clouded Leopard to launch itself toward her with irritable fury. That shout of surprise and hurried retreat only further prompting that laughter from his lips. Matteo affording her a near knowing look.

"I told you not to touch. If I had my hitting stick this would have been the time to use it."

That good-natured tease prompted the Frenchman to wander back toward that bed then as Harley hurried from the wardrobe, eyeing it was a newfound disdain as she left. Matteo's own attention returned to those sets of handcuffs that wound around the bed posts before having been fixed into the solid stone of the wall behind. Risque, it seemed, had taken every measure to assure her lovers did not escape her affections. Even this, it seemed, she sought to control. Affection, love, intimacy- on her terms alone. How much that death had changed her, or at least, brought out within her those aspects of herself that had once been merely that. Aspects. Parts of a whole. Tempered and tapered with those human qualities of laughter and joy and fun and adventure that had once made her the sort of woman whose company he had adored. Her death, it seemed, so couple with that....corrosion of her very soul had left intact and personified only those parts of her that could persist that corruption. Anger, hate, aggression, ambition and above all a desperate need for that single and only facet of her existence that had eluded her in life. Control. She had not been able to control her illness, her death- or his choices in it. So she sought control now. In all things. At least- Matteo was inclined to think as much. That plethora of thoughts turning within his mind as he tugged experimentally at that handcuff. The Frenchman determined not to allow those jade thoughts the misery that this room had seen to slither into his own conscious. Rather, the Fae was far more inclined to pursue that eternal game he had begun with Harley herself. The raven-haired woman by far the most apt player he had found in centuries. It would be near sinful to waste this opportunity. Matteo content to prompt that sudden question of Harleys own tastes towards her. That look of surprise upon her features worth that question entirely.

The young woman wandered closer then to eye those cuffs within his own hands before seeming to ponder the question. Matteo entirely curious as to whether or not she might answer it truthfully- or find some way in which to goad him with her response. That very blush that adorned her cheeks was near sinfully sweet. How youthfully innocent. How temptingly glorious something so simple as a blush looked upon that woman's cheeks. How full of fire and sarcasm and wit and rage Harley could be and yet how very ...contrasting that innocent blush made her seem. Matteo fighting that urge to reach toward her in that moment before she sat herself on the bed- only to flop back upon it. Sacrebleu! It was as if nobody ever listened to him!

"Harley...."

One eye merely raised as his head nodded toward that bed near pointedly and yet he rather suspected the young woman had no intention of moving. Matteo so making that mental note to straighten that bed before they left as Harley further considered the question of her own more intimate preferences. Her insistence that, in theory, those bindings could be hot was understated by that notion that it might yet prove disappointing with the wrong partner. Her analogy of a child with a care coaxing that warm chuckle from him once more.

"Ah, I cannot say this is not true- it requires some level of experience to be truly satisfying."

Harley, he suspected, had never been exposed to such ideas, or in the least, never found herself in the company of a partner willing to afford her those more adventurous notions of intimacy. How very...surprising it seemed, given her naturally bold nature and yet the men of today were not as they used to be. How much that woman had missed out on. Matteo near lamenting that she had, perhaps, simply not experienced such things done right. Those very words a near teasing implication of flirtatious daring as had become the norm between the pair. Matteo, once more, content to walk along that very line he surely should not and yet how very...tempting it was. The young woman's gaze found his own once more. Harley seeming to have caught onto those very words as she rested upon the bed, the woman seeming to regret her own reply well before it was uttered. The curiosity clear upon her lovely features as she asked after the right way those things should be done. Matteo so merely allowing that impish grin to find his features before his hand was simply held towards her as it had been once before.

"Trust me."

Whether or not she would dare allow him that very trust again remained to be seen and yet that very request, in itself, was surely the heart of that act all at once. Matteo waiting only so long as it took her hand to find his own before gently tugging her to her feet to stand before him. His grip on her hand remained fast and firm, the Frenchman reaching for the other then to bring both her hands together and before her. Matteo allowing his larger hand to encircle both her wrists then, holding them firmly together before neatly raising them up and above her head. His words entirely soft then and so tained with that very thickness that come with the very beginning of that desire.

"To many people, Mon Cherie, believe it is about...control, that is most surely a part of it, yes, but it too is about sensation and trust. If you do not trust your partner that experience is far less ...satisfying."

How easy it was to move about her then, her hands kept firmly above her head and within the grasp of his own as he moved to step behind her then, Matteo tugging her gently backward until her back rested agianst the hard plains of his chest. His free hand found her hip then, his fingers resting softly there before he allowed them to trail down her thigh, his fingers dancing in that lightly, circular pattern atop the fabric of her jeans before they so dared shift to her inner thigh and so begun that same pattern upward and toward those far more sensitive aspects of her figure. Those quiet words were uttered softly agianst her neck then.

"It is about affording your partner different sensations, in watching their body react and finding which of those reactions is the most satisfying, hmmmm, there, I think."

How smoothly his fingers skated upward just a little more if only to prompt that slightly hitch within the woman's breath, that particular spot seeming to prompt but a little more sensitive than the rest. How displeasing it was to have that clothing in the way. Matteo, for now, allowing his fingers to continue that trail upward with a tantalizing slowness, that very apex of her thighs avoided entirely as his hand came to rest upon her hip once before, this time, making that journey upward and along her side. His fingers slipped easily beneath the hem of her shirt and jacket, the smooth warmth of her skin nothing short of appealing as they teased that same pattern along her side, her ribs and further upward, that shirt rising easily with that very gestures. Matteo seeming to trace every curve and line of her figure as if determined to explore it and yet his fingers so hardly strayed towards her chest and those more sensitive areas that surely craved but some of that attention. His fingers merely dared to brush close enough to prompt that unevenness of breath once more. To find those seemingly chaste spots upon her figure that prompted those pleasurable reactions. Her imagination surely apt enough to anticipate how much more...intense that very sensation might be without that barrier of clothing entirely. Any movement of her arms only prompted his grip upon her wrists to tighten, denying her that very natural desire to move or to respond to those touches. How much more he could do. The ancient Fae so having afforded her barely the tips of his fingers so far and yet their time was precariously short.

"I fear, Mon Cherie, that we are about to be interrupted."

Matteo smoothly allowed his hand to fall away from her side, his other so gently releasing those wrists he held with a soft, regretful sigh of warm air agianst the back of her neck. That very breath, for the first time, so notably ...a little uneven in turn. The sound of Risque, with Darcy in tow, so clearly heard from outside the door. How terribly close they were going to cut it! Yet- what true rendavous had ever lacked but a little danger? An amusement of sorts seemed to find his lips even now, that door handle so beginning to turn as Matteo reached towards the blankets upon that bed to tug them downward and smooth out the lines from where Harley had laid in that final finishing touch before that silent command sent Darius towards them both, the stallion ensnaring them within that affinity not a moment to soon. That arrival back within Harley's own living room was sudden and a stark contrast to ostentatious luxury of Risque's bedroom, Matteo stepped away from Darius then to lean back agianst the dining room table with casual ease, his silver gaze hardly leaving Harley's own as that impish simper lingered still. How very much he regretted that interruption. Matteo near assured he could still feel that warmth of her skin at his fingertips. How glorious it would be to find the rest of those places upon her figure that brought that hitch to her breath.

"I think that is another victory for me, no? You seemed very distracted. Darius and I, how you say, saved your ass?"

Ah, but how well he knew that tease would surely irritate her! Matteo inclined to chuckle already as Darius' own head lifted upward, his lips pulling back from his teeth in that clearly horse-ish laugh that only further invoked Matteo's own. That sound so easily filling the kitchen then before the Frenchman regarded his companion more evenly and with a look far more...serious.

"Thank you for your help tonight, Harley. I am quite sure I could not have done it without you and I hope too, that in those moments when perhaps you feel a little more ...hopeless, that you might remember the night we brought down a vampire coven with little more then loud music. Risque may be an obstacle in your life, Mon Cherie, but she is not infallible."