For all those years he had lived, for all those thousands of memories he had made- there was something decidedly pleasing in so reminiscing on those ones spent with Aiden himself. At least, those far more pleasant ones they had made. After all, for every joyful memory the pair shared there was surely a darker one that tied to it in some fashion or another. Matteo, perhaps, so inadvertently having suffered his companions curse right along beside him for all those years and if only by association. Yet, for tonight at least, the near ancient Fae saw little need to dwell on those thoughts that so always lingered within the confines of both their minds. This evening surely better spent with exceptional food and equally good company. Matteo wholly content to play that role of host that Aiden never truly had managed to master if only because he wholly suspected his adoptive son simply chose not too.He always had been stubborn when he had the mind to be. Still, the very tale of that twenty first birthday so readily seemed to prompt that amusement in them both, that genuine simper finding its way to his own eternally youthful features as Aiden chuckled, the Panther insisting that they had at least gotten the wallet back even if it had resulted in having to break back in to the very pool they had only broken out of moments before. Ah, but it was not either of their finest moments. The young Were girl sighing softly with that assurance she had never been so daring as Matteo's own head softly shook. If only she could see that very future that laid before her, one that would, in time, hold within it perhaps far more excitement than she had ever truly desired.

That near wary, skeptical look his words had earned merely prompted that soft chuckle to his own lips once more. Ah, but the foolishness of youth! How many times had he earned such a look as that? If only he had a dollar for each of them! Perhaps he would be a more wealthy man then he already was. Arya, like so many before her, so fearful of that future so readily within her grasp. She would do well in this life. That much was already clear. A young, pretty girl such a she with the courage to be bold and yet the sense to be reserved would never truly fail. There would be those bumps of course. Those slips and tumbles that were layered through the lives of every being and yet she was a hard-worker, a determined being and a loyal one at that. Dependable and yet not lacking spontaneity on just the right occasion or with a little alcohol to cox her otherwise. How much he could see of her. Perhaps she was right to eye him so warily and yet he said no more on it. Matteo, as always, content to leave her with his words to make of them what she would. His own attention turned instead to seeking a remedy for that boxed pasta that had incurred his disdain. Aiden making some attempt to defend that pre-packaged pasta as the near ancient Fae so tossed it into the trash can with the insistence wood shavings would surely have sufficed. His own silver eyes rolling then.

"Ah, so that is why I have been cooking for you for twenty years- because I do not care. My life is filled with sense at this discovery."

One eye arched so neatly upward as if near daring Aiden to argue with him further, those words laced with a good humored sarcasm all the same as the WereKing folded his arms across his chest in the same fashion he had done since his early teens. That very gesture so further prompting that simper to the Frenchmans lips as he so finished collecting those needed ingredients and began to set to that task of making his own pasta. An action he knew so readily that his fingers near seemed to move without and true thought. That very recipe almost instinctive. Matteo so choosing to ignore that very comment Aiden offered his guest in regards to how long it would now take. The Frenchman content to merely listen as the pair discussed that ship and its business as he worked. Matteo asking after that Arya's work in that interim even if he had so already seen just what it was she did. In truth he found it near amusing in a fashion almost ironic. Matteo so eternally holding a keen sense of amusement for the ridiculous. A seal looking after seals perhaps just that very thing. Even if her parents, it seemed, had not supported her career choice.

"They will be proud of you."

Those very words so fell from his lips near without his consent. Matteo frowning slightly at his own sudden declaration and yet he hardly glanced away from that pasta to speak any more of just what he may have seen within those vision. The Frenchman instead beginning that search for cheese with some sense of trepidation for just what he might find in that kitchen. Matteo at last fishing that block from within its depths. It was hardly terrible cheese and yet it was by no means of exception either. Ah, but how all cheese so seemed to pale outside his beloved France! Aiden's insistence that cheese was cheese seeing the Frenchman pause beside that counter as he placed the block upon it, that sudden silence seeming to fall over that kitchen then. Matteo gasping softly then.

"Do you hear that?"

His own gaze cast briefly sideways, as if affording that room a surreptitious glance before his attention returned to his likely mildly alarmed, if not curious companions. That silence echoing a moment longer as he so encouraged them to listen.

"That is the sound of my heart failing at Tetradore's wounding words about cheese."

That very grin danced readily onto his lips then, that genuine laughter humming from within his throat all the same if only at the looks on his companions faces, that grater handed to Aiden in the same moment with those instructions to take care of that cheese. That very look he was offered readily seeing the fae glance backward once more as he returned to that stirring with the insistence Arya was not to let herself fall victim to Aiden's decidedly persuasive gaze and take up that task for him. Aiden as keen to defend that cheese as he was that boxed pasta.

"That is not cheese, that is what is wrong with it. It pretends to be cheese, but for tonight we will pretend we do not know."

Those accented words left his lips easily as he turned back to that stove to continue his cooking. Matteo fishing a singular shell of pasta from that water to taste, the Fae nodding in satisfaction. That vision struck him near suddenly, his silver gaze faded to that near glaring red in those moments those images danced behind his eyes in the wake of that magic unique to himself. Matteo so barely having a chance to grasp onto that future before he near pivoted in place at that stove.

"Arya..."

He was already too late. That silence that permeated that room near deafening all on its own. That change within Aiden himself near imperceptible and yet....Matteo had been looking at him for twenty years. Even the smallest of changes so readily visible to him. That downward tilt to Aiden's lips near as telling as that almost fixated way he had taken to grating that cheese. Aiden throwing up those walls so fiercely and so firmly he hardly knew whether or not he might coax them aside again tonight. It was hardly the girls fault in any sense, how was she to know? Matteo sighing softly all the same before allowing that small smile to find him. Those words chosen with care then.

"Arya? Perhaps you might stir this a moment for me, hmm?"

He so held that spoon out for the girl to take, his hand so briefly resting upon her forearm to assure her all was entirely well before he wandered to the far side of that kitchen and back out into the fighting floors and bar. The Frenchman returning but a few moments later with that bottle of tequila and several glasses in hand. Ah, but he adored that golden liquor! Those glasses were easily rested on the bench, Matteo effortlessly flipping that bottle upward to pour, filling each of them with just enough of that liquor. It would hardly stop those memories, it would hardly take away whatever thoughts turned within his adoptive sons head, Matteo holding every belief he knew exactly what they were and yet, here and now, distraction was surely the best cure. It had worked before, it would surely work again. Aiden, in his own time, sure to find his way out from that momentary lapse.

"Head's up, Scoundrel."

That shot glass was sent flying along that bench towards Aiden then, Matteo downing his own with expert ease, that veritable burn entirely enlightening, before making his way back to Arya to relieve her of those cooking duties. To make a fuss of Aiden, he knew, was by far one of the very things the younger man disdained the most. That acknowledgement coming in the form of that burning liquor alone. Aiden would know he knew and for now that was enough.

"Magnifique Mademoiselle Arya! You have done well, I think this is quite ready now. That drink is yours too if you want it. I think it is time to eat."


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