It was almost baffling really, even to him, even after so many years so long lived that Dorian and himself still held something of a strained relationship. He knew why that relationship existed as it did. At least to a certain extent. For well over five centuries the pair had existed as friends and little more. He had allowed Dorian to believe his family had long since passed and- while at the time- such a decision had been almost necessary, a part of the Frenchman was near assured Dorian resented him for it all the same. How could he not? Perhaps it was he whom was merely a fool to some emotional tendril that did not truly exist and yet he struggled to believe that even Dorian was so good of nature to dismiss five hundred years of lies. And therein lay the struggle. They had been friends for five centuries. The suddenly change the very nature of that relationship to that of father and son was a task neither truly knew how to exact. It was as if neither knew exactly how to talk to one another and yet they were getting better- of that he was sure. Still, he hoped, one day, he might talk with Dorian with the same ease as he spoke to Aiden. Even when the later was telling him off in one fashion or another.

His fingers toyed with that steel chain about his neck, a long-held habit that betrayed the depth off his own thought in that moment. The Frenchman clearly affording no small amount of consideration to Aiden's words- while finding himself equally pleased at the astuteness of the man's comments all the same. Along with the assuredness with which they were delivered. Aiden, at last, seemed to have found some of that dominant blood he had been born with. The Fae unable to prevent that small hint of satisfaction at the notion that even after all this time that woman had not managed to extinguish that flame- despite her best efforts. Matteo was largely oblivious to the anxiousness of sorts with which Aiden waited for his own response. As if seeking some validation off his opinions. The near ancient fae sighing softly before admitting that he suspected Aiden was right all the same- that advice, a truly rare offering from the Panther- not at all unsound. Perhaps he had even needed to hear it. Aiden so having a manner of viewing the world in a near black and white manner, on occasion, on that seemed to present those answers Matteo was inclined to miss. It was perhaps not quite so simple as that and yet, Aiden was right, there was no reason he could not attempt to bond with Sebastian. Heaven knew any effort he made would please Dorian in turn. There was surely every chance too, that his son might be distracted from asking after his Mother. Matteo content to put off that conversation for as long as he could.

That French sweet he had plucked from the packet upon the table was rolled effortlessly about his mouth, that taste more satisfying then he had anticipated- even if it afforded his mouth an unusual aftertaste in the wake of that liquor. Still, it was that query from the man beside him on that preposition he had to offer that prompted his thoughts to return to the present. Matteo considering how best to broach that subject that had played upon his mind for the better part of twenty years. He knew, oh how he knew, of the near devastation it had caused Aiden as a child that Matteo simply could not take him with him. He had struggled to explain that nature off his teleportation to the young child, that he simply could not physically carry Aiden with him (lest Aiden wish to arrive in multiple pieces) and, as the boy got older, he had attempted to explain the difficulties of smuggling him out of the country without Risque- or one off her many 'employees'- catching them before they could manage it and killing them both. He had been able to see near no future in which they made it safely.

Yet how it had near destroyed him in turn to leave Aiden each and every time. It wrenched at his heart so profoundly and so painfully that even the memory of it near haunted him. How desperately he had desired to merely take Aiden home. If they could simply have made it out of the country, Risque would have struggled, desperately so, to track them through Europe. How good it would have been to have had some life in those halls of Chambord. It would have been easy enough to raise the boy, surely. With the right therapy he could have overcome what he had suffered, or in the least, he would have been young enough to learn to handle it. Matteo had never truly seen himself as the sort of man to coach the soccer team or enforce homework or attend PTA meetings and yet he would have done it in a heartbeat. School runs, high school heartbreaks, college applications, first jobs, first cars- the very sorts of things Aiden should have had. Instead, he had been able to only give that promise that, one day, when the time was right he would take him home. A promise Matteo was determined to keep even if he found himself almost anxious to offer it. He hardly feared Aiden in any sense, rather, he almost anticipated the very reaction he duly received.

His anxiousness, it seemed, was not at all misplaced. Yet for several moments he merely allowed the other man to express that irritation of sorts. It was not true anger, that he knew well, he had seen Aiden angry before- they had surely had their arguments during those tumultuous teenage years. More so- it was frustration. Frustration born from an uncertainty of how exactly to handle that offer. The Panther responding in the only fashion Aiden truly knew how when faced with those emotions- by throwing up those barricades. How unfortunate for Aiden, that Matteo had learned so many years ago how to simply walk around them. A delicate path upon haphazard terrain, one littered with metaphorical minefields the casual explorer would surely meet their demise in. Yet this was a game they had played before. That nearly gruff retort prompting little more from the Frenchman then another sip of that drink. Matteo placing it back upon the coffee table beside his feet as the Were proceeded to grunt at him.

"Aiden."

His gaze lifted at last back to the other man, that singular word hardly harsh in any sense and yet there was a distinct firmness to it all the same. One that requested attention. Matteo waiting until those striking emerald eyes met his own, assuring him he had the eternity of the younger man's attention. He was hardly a child anymore and as such, Matteo had no intention of treating him as one and yet how difficult it was, sometimes, not to see a surly ten year old before him instead of a grown man who was surely his equal! How strange time was.

"You know that is not why I'm asking you."

He offered simply enough in response to that query that Aiden hardly intended to be a mere excuse to put off those conversations with Dorian that he should and would have when the time was right. His words softened slightly then and yet, those accented lyrics were offered with the same conviction.

"Have I ever asked the impossible of you? If I did not believe that this was possible I would hardly have brought it up. Between my abilities and your own we are more than capable of being back here within a matter of minutes if need be and yet I hardly suspect that will be needed. I know what concerns you. She is firmly occupied elsewhere and will be for some months as I said. I know how quickly that future can change though and I promise you I will watch it. If we need to come back, we will. She has no ability to block my visions- you know that."

How many times had alerted Aiden to Risques plans before she had enacted them, giving him the chance to prepare himself or, on several occasions, avoid her wrath entirely? How many times had Matteo himself waylaid that vampire without her knowing, allowing Aiden to finish whatever task she had left him before she returned to punish him for it not being done or to hide his possessions from her? Still, the Frenchman hardly sought to push any further. That point had been made, Aiden need only consider it. Matteo hardly blaming him in any sense for those concerns he knew he had. Nor for any fear he might have, admitted or otherwise, over that very act of...defiance against that vampire woman he was suggesting. That simper finding his lips once more.

"I would like to show you my home and my country. The food, the entertainment, the activities- the beds if you think you might enjoy experiencing the first uninterrupted sleep of your life. But I will not make you do anything you do not want to do. The choice is yours, Aiden."

Choice. The very thing that had so alluded Aiden his entire life, so finally being offered to him. How much that boy needed a damn holiday. Even if he didn't realise it yet. Matteo's gaze remaining firmly upon him then, the Frenchman waiting with that same infinite patience he had always offered the young man before him. How much he desired that time with him- if only he would let him.


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