stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

cardboard is boring, we brought our matches - look how it burns

How she listened to those obscure words, not really understanding what they meant and yet she had to admit to find herself a little bit curious despite knowing damn well Matteo seemed determined to be fully against clarification. Harley decided not to press, instead focused on what he did say. She offered him a shrug, feeling a sense of soreness she hadn't before. She had defied and forged fate... and did all those things she wasn't even aware of. How cryptic that was... even more so than the previous statement. She was pretty sure he was just making shit up now, just to tease her. "Good, someone needs to stick it to fate every now and then." If any of it was true, she decided to take it as a compliment. Take that.. fate. Although, she was sure it was winning by a land slide.. Although, Matteo's words about having a little mystery. That was rich coming from him. "There is nothing more mysterious than you and yet somehow you manage to outdo yourself again." Even more cryptic messages. Great. Yet how attractive people could get away with so much more. She was almost too exhausted to deal with the cryptic nature of her obscure companion even though she put on that face, he was at an extreme advantage. Even as he seemed to ignore the body of a dying man that had saved her damn life and she couldn't even properly return the favour when it counted. That dying man had a name. Sly. How certain she wasn't going to go around forgetting it.

However, her usual natural sarcastic tone was lacking from that usual vivacious demeanour even though she clung hopelessly to that semblance of normalcy between herself and the fae. She was all but frayed at the seams, her mind still reeling with that near miss... She could not help her gaze stray back toward Sly, feeling a sense of sadness. What a shit way to go. What did he want his grave to say now? 'Almost made it'? Or.. 'Died in parking lot.' The dark thought seemed to cause the woman's mood to darken over the sound of his ragged, gasping breath. How could she try to fix a wound that could not be seen? If she could not call an ambulance? She was certain that any action on her part would only speed along his death..

The raven-haired was so worn that the blatant concern within her gaze couldn't be concealed. It wasn't the first time that the fae had seen her without her mask and it made her feel... almost exposed. How close she was to ask Matteo what to do, to ask him to do something. But that was not them. They did not cross that line with one another. That was when relationships got messy, when expectation got in the way. Yet that question lay there, trapped like a wild bird in her throat.

Instead, sarcasm was her friend until the bitter end. The all too unflappable Matteo hardly even reacted from his usual carefree demeanour. How she envied his resolve in that very moment, wishing she could possess even an ounce of it. She peered upward at the perched Frenchman, her violet-hued eyes glowed with something that could not be named. His familiar accented accent describing Sly's perilous state, they sounded so calm in all this.. this chaos that only she still seemed to sense. Yes... he claimed. One of those fated paths led to the warlock's demise. She already knew it and yet somehow hearing them out loud hit differently.

A rare silence pervaded the air afterward. Screw that fate. Narrowed eyes seemed to show that undying resolve within her. Already considering all the ways she could defy it. But how could you defy something you couldn't see? Was fate even a person? Could she call it over and give it a piece of her mind? Demand another one? She had defied the odds her entire life. Why not this too? Did it work like that? If only she could simply ask for a reroll. She almost felt bad for the fae with his powers. The ability to see it all and hardly having the ability to do much about it. Was it better off not knowing with so many countless outcomes... and yet often powerless to stop it? How she knew he dabbled in its manipulation and yet she hardly knew how far. Would he now? If she asked?

Yet, like he had all the time in the world he asked her the last question she thought someone would ever ask over a nearly dead body. How was she? Such a random loaded question. Did it matter how she was? Of course not. Not at that very moment with far more pressing concerns. The evidence of how she was... was obvious right in front of him. she didn't have the capacity to answer completely honest. So, she tackled it with sarcasm. It would seem that neither being was incredibly honest with their words that day... yet how they probably both saw through it all the same, in their own unique capacities.

Matteo claimed that the warlock was of poor sight. Please. "I would ask him about his vision.. but.. you can plainly see he isn't capable of speaking for himself." It was impossible to ignore the half dead warlock between them. It was impossible not to see all his valiant sacrifice and for what? To die in Syn's parking lot. How well.. she knew that her options were as limited as time itself. The seconds that ticked by were only... making that all the more apparent with his strained breath. How she hated to ask.. when she knew to ask something of someone would create expectations and obligations that were once not there. How well she knew that their relationship had been all but built of the freedom she rarely received.

So many beings wishing to stuff her into a mold, shrink her down. Don't say that. Don't feel that. Don't be that. How Matteo certainly didn't fit into one himself. Yet... if there was ever a time to ask.. was it not for something worthwhile? Was it not for someone who had faced fear alongside death itself and said not today? It was difficult to say those words and yet what choice did she have? Yet, he seemed entirely, unsurprised as if he knew it was coming. Or maybe it was just his face that seemed to soften at the edges in a way that she was not used to. She couldn't quite tell and yet she couldn't help but please the warlock's case, all the same.

It felt even worse that she was looking up at him to ask.. fuck this was going to give her some kind of complex. She'd asked him to come down from his perch way up high. Only to be met with an infuriating, all-knowing chuckle like he found her silly. Like she had somehow missed the obvious...

Somehow, she was still caught off guard when Matteo suddenly disappeared, only to appear at her side, capturing her in a one-armed hug. How did she come across to him to earn that response? He squeezed as she could do nothing but give into it. She hated she felt so weak.. and yet she wasn't sure if she hated that she was comforted by the gesture all the same. That gaze slid down, in hopes she could keep any vulnerability from her usual sarcastic mask when she simply exhaled a sigh. She drew in that delicious scent he possessed which almost turned her into softened butter.. How did he always smell so damn good? It was such a welcomed thing to fill her lungs after that putrid scent of whatever that hellish pit was.

Harley allowed herself a few short seconds just to relish in that contact and smell.. that she usually refused before regaining herself once more. Her spine steeled, her resolve returning. It was his voice that earned her vivacious purple gaze to meet his familiar silver. He was.. entirely serious, so unlike the man she had known. That utterance had whatever words that lingered upon her tongue to halt. A frown of contemplation found her feminine features. Surely, he didn't just wait to see if she would ask. That silver peaked tongue as reckless as it was, was never at a loss as it was then. She could not help but feel relief... and yet question... Why? She parted her lips as if suspended in asking that very question before she sealed her lips once more. It was movement that caused the pairs attention to shift to something new. That fire fox that she had seen earlier. He was ok somehow, even with his unconscious warlock? Did that mean that Sly was ok?

The movement drew Matteo from her side, toward the little fox creature with no obvious concern for being burned. The flaming fox seemed to hover protectively over the unconscious warlock, eyeing them both with a cautious expression. Would it let Matteo heal him?

Matteo lowered to a crouch to offer the creature his hand to smell and inspect... as if it could actually smell... maybe it could? What did she know? It did make noises and looked incredibly life like in many regards. Harley eyed the transaction with open curiousity. In that all knowing way of his, Matteo already knew the creatures name, speaking it with ease. The fox seemed to warm up to him, drawing closer, growing more at ease his presence as if determining him not as a threat. Harley could not help but draw curiously closer, not wanting to miss a single thing. Matteo's attention shifted back to lock eyes as his theory danced within her mind as she tried to make sense of it. "His soul? Is that even possible? Isn't that kind of dangerous letting it out on display like that? What if someone traps it? That can't be good." Harley questioned, her sarcasm slipped away and shelved for the time being. Maybe she shouldn't be so curious of a stranger. Especially one who was just about to die. It was like Matteo could hear that very thought or perhaps he shared it with her.

That familiar power that he had once used upon her nearly stole her breath mid gasp. This was far stronger than the mere cuts and bruises he had healed from her. It was like the creature had known that energy to be healing as he all but buried his head into the fae's palm. Woah. It was interesting to see the merging of those two forces merging and intermingling as they did. That fire rippling with healing powers that it absorbed, the thrilled fox somehow grew brighter, relishing in the power that encased him, that she could not see but she could feel. She almost shivered with it as it cut through the leather of her jacket more than any cold, refreshing breeze. The moment was entrancing, the woman unable to look away, a helpless bystander who also kept out a watchful eye for them both. She didn't know if Matteo was vulnerable when he was like this.. but she suspected it wouldn't be good if he was caught while he focused.

Harley stood sentinel, protectively, watching over the pair she refused to allow any harm to touch. It was like her animal side took over, enhancing that vigilance, fueling her with purpose. It only eased the moment Matteo drew to his feet effortless and somehow.. even though Sly didn't stir. He seemed to know.

Was he sure it worked? Shouldn't he be waking up? The moment Matteo fixed her with his attention once more, that humour had once more found the fae's features, entirely impish in every way. There was a price for his services that he was going to employ either way. The fae certainly living up to his very species. Especially for all that had been warned about. A favour for a favour. It was a language she could understand. It erased that debt. Yet... it wasn't the sound of the ominous favour that seemed to cause the woman's eyes to narrow it was words he wished to go along with. He wasn't serious, was he? She shook her head. "Alright, fairy. A deal is a deal." The Were didn't bother to fight it. It was a welcomed way to even that score even though the words she had to say seemed... ridiculous. It was price that she was willing to pay. She parted her lips..

This was painful..

Whether it was perfect timing or.. fluke, Sly gasped a breath, abruptly sitting up as if shot with directly into the heart with adrenaline. The hat that she had put back onto his head clearly wasn't on that securely as she thought she had put it as it flopped comically as well as adorably over his eyes. Well, that answered that, Matteo's magic had worked. However, Matteo moved into action. It would seem he didn't want to linger for Sly's recovery. With ease, the fae drew towards her with a mischievous grin painted upon his lips, reminding her that she owed him. He meant it too. How well she knew. But it wasn't that reminder that baffled her it was those following cryptic words.

What was that supposed to mean? He swiftly pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. "Hey wait a second.. Picked? What does that even mean... Ah shit, not again." Just as she was going to pin him with a stare, to grab his shoulder with her hands... Yet any effort was thwarted. His lips, scent and the mysterious man himself were gone. She huffed her displeasure, expecting some obscure voice that never happened, her hand that wanted to grab him fell back to her side.. How like him. She should have been used to it by now.. The man offering more questions than actual answers at all. Did he even answer a single one?

At that very moment, Sly had already righted his hat upon his head, looking very much himself. Healthy. The colour returned to his cheeks, his breath full, blue eyes clear even though his question seemed confused, disoriented.

"Easy there." She didn't want him to rush to his feet just yet until that disorientation dissipated.

A little smirk played upon her lips, one that was all the original spitfire he had met before. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to tell him how close to death he had been. That she had made a debt on his behalf. After all, she couldn't have him owing her. Maybe it was easier to call it even. A life for a life.

Finally she answered him, drawing before the still seated man, the fox nowhere to be seen. Where did it go? "You don't look dead to me." That teasing tone easily left her lips as she eyed him as if searched his form for effect. How strange it was to see him so pale and on deaths doorstep mere moments before.. Only to see him so shockingly full of life, with the sun illuminating his attractive features and those blue eyes. Yes, it was decided. Syn looked bad on him. Out here, was an entirely different story. What was even more shocking was that he knew nothing. Nothing of Matteo's part in this. Nothing of her deal. It was obvious that the woman had to give him something.. anything. If it were her, she wouldn't let it rest and too many questions would mean too much explaining. "Ok so... You might have fainted a little bit. Taking your role as damsel awfully seriously." Banter was far better than the truth of any of it.

Although that mask slipped just a little.

"How do you feel?" She inquired, curious as to how much Matteo had healed him.. Harley extended her hand, that was full of grime from before.. That shit was everywhere. Her jeans, her face, her hair... yet it was dried. He wasn't in much better shape. In fact, he still wore it.... It wouldn't take long before he realized it wasn't water. She waited for the warlock to take her hands, to help the tall warlock to his feet. How many times have they crashed to the ground? "You fought kind of well for a warlock." Ah, she couldn't help herself.

Harley Westward