Tetradore could hardly count the number of times his fae companion had found him nestled in some dark corner of that jungled habitat that had become his cage, or, later, in the confines of that rarely used bedroom with his body battered. From the multi-colored bruises to the silver induced burns and the bleeding gashes - that caramel skin had seen much in those infinitely long years the were-King had spent under the watchful eye of his vampiric mistress, even if that near perfect caramel skin hid the abuse it had endured. That small gash on his arm with naught by a nuisance in all he had healed from over the years, and though it hardly required the fae's affinity for time, Tetradore was hardly beyond appreciating the gesture all the same. Rather, it was with a certain measure of good-naturedness that the often moody man so accepted that gift, the feline entirely capable of jesting all the same over that which they both surely knew would likely never come. The concept of complete freedom had been a fleeting pipe dream, one Tetradore now realized was beyond his grasp. Still, he found himself striving all the same for some measure of cheer within the Frenchman's presence, if only for how terribly long it had been since he'd last seen the man.

That announcement of a present, however, certainly captured the young Hispanic man's attention, that cardboard box opened with marked curiosity only to discover the near plethora of treats that awaited his consumption inside, treats that he largely suspected would not survive long within the halls of the Ark. After all, Tobias was entirely a fiend when it came to any such sweet thing, the man's sweet tooth bested even his own. He easily pulled that French candy he hadn't had in years from the top of that box, the were-King entirely unperturbed by his companion's ability to vanish and reappear rather then bother with walking that small distance from desk to sofa. Quite on the contrary, he hardly seemed to notice it at all, the man vastly more interested with ripping over a corner of that packaging for the wrapped treats inside, commenting all the while of Tobias' inevitable discovery of those chocolates and candies.

That suggestion to place it on the shelf in the shower caused him to pause quite abruptly, his emerald eyes turned upwards in consideration. "Hm, it could work, especially if I close the bathroom door..." Tetradore commented in thought, all of it, of course, hinged on the simple fact of Tobias hardly knowing of the boxes existence in the first place. Once he learned of them, Tetradore was certain he might brave even water if the prize was viewed to have enough value. That inquiry of a drink pulled at Tetradore's attention, the man offered his companion a soft grunt as he made his way towards that small alcohol cabinet in the corner. That bottle of liquor he fetched from it's depths had been one'd been quite purposefully saving, ever since he'd both acquired it and learned of it's marked rarity and value. It was a drink surely best shared with someone who could properly appreciate it, the number of such individuals was lacking around the cargo ship. He place that bottle and those two empty glasses on the table with the simple announcement that he had been saving it for this very moment, even if the man knew well that Matteo was likely aware of such a thing all the same.

That idle comment of the name of that bottle drew his gaze towards his companion as he flopped beside the Frenchman. His eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly in consideration. "I don't remember that." Tetradore commented simply, though such a thing was hardly that...peculiar in the slightest. Matteo seemed to remember every aspect of his youth, things in which the man himself was wholly content to simply forget. There were distinct points in his life where the days and months had blurred together in some twisted form of pain, hurt, and brief reprieves. Though he had appreciated Matteo's presence all the same, he was, perhaps, keen to simply forget some of those days altogether. Even so, he picked up that glass he had been handed all the same, the man unable to help that roll of his eyes at that toast. Rather than sharing in such a sentimental word, the were-King was altogether happy to savor the taste of the alcohol, inquiring in those moments after for that very story he had done every time Matteo returned from his absences.

His cheek rested against the palm of his hand, those emerald eyes settled upon his companion at the beginning of that tale. Tetradore was altogether certain that this story had decidedly little to do with the politics of France or mining rights, the man hardly bothered to rush his companion as that tale wandered instead to the women whom had so distracted the elder Frenchman from his duty. That sheer idea of a beauty pageant prompted a soft chuckle from the were-King. Though his own relationship history was decidedly....limited, and his experience with such sexual intimacy had mostly been less than pleasurable, Tetradore was hardly unaffected by those feminine curves and scant clothing. That sudden interruption to that tale, however, prompted a small shrug to his shoulders though he saw no reason to lie of that liquor's origins. "It was a gift from a business partner to apologize. He failed to pay his bill, I stole his prized yacht, he paid the amount in full and added in this." That liquor had been enough to stay his hand in any further vengeance. Tetradore knew well that such a short story would hardly be enough to stop that tale, not that Tetradore particularly wanted it end to begin with.

Rather, a soft simper crossed his features at that very idea of a world of sun, life, and fast cars. It was, as Matteo said, a life he would have loved to visit. Perhaps with his new found capabilities, he could do just that, albeit for a short time. Tetradore could hardly help that grin upon his features at the simple assurance that Matteo had better acquainted himself with the woman who had become Miss Puerto Rico, much less the true extent at which he had so enjoyed her company. That deep chuckle once again reverberated on his lips as that tale came to an end, with Matteo's ass the star feature of some trash magazine. His head shook ever so slightly, "You'd think you would have seen that one coming." He jested and yet, truly, it amused him to no end that Matteo had finally fallen victim to his near womanizing ways. That sudden shift of conversation drew his emerald eyes away from that drink in his hand, that easy grin all but near vanishing in those moments at the mention of Matteo's son. He knew of the boy well. In his youth he had asked of him before, in some vain effort to live vicariously through the fae he'd never met. Even those hundreds of years Dorian spent as King behind closed walls seemed....better than those twenty or so that Tetradore had spent as little more than a pet.

His gaze remained steadfast upon Matteo in that moment, a singular eyebrow rose ever so slightly. For a moment, he quite ignored that inquiry of his own doings of late, after all, he was rather certain that Matteo knew well all he had been involved with, nor did he particularly wish to utter of finding his sister only to lose her again, finding a significant other only to lose her too, and the return of Risque. Those very topics had absorbed so much of late. "I suspect you know how to make it less strained....why don't you?" Tetradore inquired, his gaze steady. For all the Frenchman's near eloquent abilities of speech, the were-King remained both decidedly perceptive and equally as blunt. He had a distinct notion that, perhaps, Matteo wanted to speak of Dorian more than he let on - it was a desire he was willing to prompt from the Frenchman.