aiden tetradore

There's no saving me.
I've become a shell of the man I was. Only time will tell if I'm strong enough.

The vibrancy of his emerald eyes stared at the large television screen in front of him, his fingers moving dexterously upon those joysticks settled within the palm of his hand. Tetradore had settled in a wholly lackadaisical position upon the leather of his sofa, his shoulder leaning heavily against Tobias' frame - that touch almost a necessity, even though he failed to admit those emotional needs in the wake of his return to the Ark from those weeks he'd spent in France. The Were was all but silent as he watched the enemies descend upon them from across the screen - Tobias muttered responses and reactions of frustration the only sound that reverberated from the depths of his bedroom, beyond the video game itself. Tetradore himself had become far more prone to silence of late, the Alpha hardly leaving the depths of his room with little regard to how much his own pack might have need of him. That he was even here was enough, for now, the man all but struggling to balance that life as Alpha and as pet - the result of his vampiric mistress' latest lesson near disastrous upon the dominant panther's usually strong will. Distinctly little mattered to the man these days. That grief and hurt that had all but assaulted him left little else within its wake. Tobias alone had any notion of the fragile state of the Alpha, the boy's presence sought by the Were-King more often than not, as if to assure himself over and over again that his closest companion was still alive and well.

His emerald eyes hardly deviated from the screen by that gentle knock upon the door of his bedroom. Tetradore had taken to simply ignoring those interruptions and requests for his attention of late - this one too disregarded with the same expectation that whoever lay on the other side of the door would surely give up and leave the pair of men to their own devices when their presence went unacknowledged. He hardly noticed the she-wolf that slid within the crack of his double doors, nor that one of those handles had been left unlatched within the first place. In fact, it wasn't even until her voice echoed over the sound of gameplay and Tobias' frustration that his emerald eyes slid over towards Mira's slender, feminine figure. He hardly bothered to even press the pause button upon the control as he glanced at her, her presence ignored in the same effortless manner as his gaze returned back to the screen in front of him and the pixel figurines that threatened Tobias' limited health bar. A small frown crossed his features as he listened to the Hispanic woman's voice, though Tetradore hardly gave any indication that he had even heard the woman within the first place. Hunters. Hunters had captured the little fae child who had taken to calling the Ark her second home. She was such a foolish little child, to think they were somehow her family. Frankly, she was likely better off with the Hunter's protection. Unless it was the very man who'd tried to kidnap her all those months ago. That would be...unfortunate.

Softly, Tetradore exhaled, though that sigh was as uncommunicative as the man himself before his shoulder lifted in a half-hearted shrug. Truly, both the fae child and Mira herself were much better off without Tetradore's direct involvement. He'd nearly gotten Tobias killed. If his relationship, if his infatuation with Mira was ever discovered...what had occurred to Tobias would look like little more than mere child's play. The things Risque would do to that caramel flesh and feminine figure that Tetradore had found himself...caring for more than he should. His eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly though his imagination hardly needed to drift far to come up with some accurate portrayal of Mira's death. And Maeve - dear sweet Maeve. Risque would kill her. She'd suck the very life from her veins - or keep her just to eat over and over and over again. No. Both woman and child were far better as far away from the fallen King as possible. Their very lives surely depended upon it. Whatever help Maeve received would surely have to be from Mira herself. That distinct silence, that lack of a reaction, surely indicative of his intentions to remain upon that very sofa in the wake of Maeve's absence and Mira's declaration.

This is my last goodbye