it's over, i'm through

I saw you standing there and I knew I'm done for

A soft sigh left Tetradore's lips at the clear bewilderment upon Dorian's features. Although that formal adoption had only gone through a month prior, it still felt distinctly peculiar to be introduced to Matteo's son as his brother. There was no denying that he had relied heavily upon the presence of the French fae within his life - particularly to pull him through those difficult years when accepting defeat had been so tempting. And yet, to find himself introduced to Matteo's family as...one of them...somehow it didn't quite feel right. It was quite as if Tetradore was intruding rather then partaking within the family gathering. It was, perhaps, that anxiousness within him that prompted him to round so easily upon the Frenchman, quite near chastising Matteo for not telling them that he would be attending tonight. The lackadaisical shrug he was met with, however, prompted a soft grunt from Tetradore's lips, the man almost certain tonight would be doomed to that shroud of silent awkwardness before Dorian so abruptly thrust his hand outwards with an apology upon his lips. For a moment, the Were-King glanced down before fitting his calloused hand within the softened one of Dorian's own, easily brushing off that explanation.

Tetradore hardly anticipated those inquiries that so immediately followed, at least, until Dorian decided that, perhaps, he might benefit from a stiff drink. Franky, Tetradore couldn't agree more. He made some effort, at least, to reassure the fae that Matteo was still, largely, Dorian's father alone. Though the Were had an altogether unique relationship with the man, one that certainly seemed more akin to that of a father and child, he had little intention of impeeding within the pair's life, despite Matteo's insistence that this would hardly bring any harm to his fae son. He made some attempt, all the same, to explain just how he'd recently come into that title of 'brother'. His head bobbed ever so slightly as he listened to Dorian's efforts to show just how he understood that situation Tetradore had been in and yet, the Were-King offered little more than a small simper by a way of response. He was, by habit, after all, a man of far fewer words than the Italian King. It was Dorian's continual questioning alone that caused Tetradore to continue as he did his best to answer those questions of the Ark and his own long life within the singular metropolis. He took that moment of Dorian's distraction with the particularly strong liquor he had poured himself to instead turn his attention towards Matteo and the question that had lingered upon his own mind - what had the Frenchman meant when he'd spoken of all the times their paths had almost crossed?

It seemed as if Tetradore was hardly the only one who believed Matteo had something to do with that intertwining of their lives, the group at whole seemingly content to eye the Frenchman near critically. That embellished gesture was hardly enough to dissuade Tetradore, however, his eyebrow only rose all the more dubiously in retort before he watched Matteo lean against the table casually. It was, sometimes, still a wonder just all that Matteo influenced with such meticulous care to ensure the future wound up just so. Perhaps it shouldn't have been surprising that Matteo would have ensured his only son was safe within the buzzing metropolis - within Tetradore's care, no doubt. "Yeah, I remember," Tetradore responded, his baritone voice more grumbly than he had originally intended. What he didn't expect, however, was to owe the vampire too. The very idea of all the damage Dorian had done to that flat even made Tetradore wince ever so slightly before his free hand rose to the back of his neck in a small glimpse of guilt. "Er....thanks, Vhalla told me about..some fire she'd caused too before you fixed the floors." Not to mention the cabinet and drawer he'd caught her in the midst of repairing...and the sofa...come to think of it, that apartment that Mira had occupied for several months had apparently come to need a great many renovations that Sebastian had seen to before it was returned to Tetradore's care. Now - the flat sat nearly bare. God, he should find someone to rent it out or something.

His consideration of that flat, however, was interrupted by Dorian's voice - that Italian word, however, was wholly lost upon him. His emerald eyes fluttered towards Sebastian as the Englishman translated. Motorcycle, of course. "Oh, yeah, my Kawasaki." Tetradore answered in agreement, surprised that, truly, it was that vehicle that Dorian had remembered when compared to all the others he had undoubtedly driven to and from that apartment. He was hardly surprised by Dorian's confusion, at least as far as his own name was concerned. Even Samantha hadn't been privy to his first name for a large portion of their relationship. Still, he suspected that with Dorian having little involvement in the West, or his own illicit affairs, insisting upon his given name. Rather, it was that inquiry of the boat however that Tetradore answered with a small nod. He was, admittedly, hardly insulted in the slightest at Dorian's consideration of the Ark's name. "Nah, it's not." He readily agreed with a minute shrug. The Ark was, after all, quite a rough and tumble sort of place. It was the very sort of bar that he anticipated Dorian would actively avoid. Still, it was almost amusing the efforts that Dorian seemed to go to in order to soften his words as if he feared slighting Tetradore in some fashion.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much. I bought it just for Samantha. It's kinda....empty now." Tetradore admitted, and yet, even he was not unaware of Dorian's use of that very word - brother. How bizarre it was to hear that word from Dorian's lips even if it was legally true. A man he'd never met before tonight, one he'd heard stories of as a child, a man he'd, once upon a time, been bitterly jealous of, and now Dorian welcomed him with such open arms. It made him feel strikingly...ashamed about all those feelings he had regarding the fae for the majority of his life. He was, admittedly, rather thankful for Matteo's sudden declaration that it was surely time for dinner. Finally, Tetradore allowed that glass of whiskey to rise to his lips, only for an inquisitive glimpse to cross his features. "Mmm..." It was...particularly good. Though, maybe he shouldn't have been so surprised. Dorian was the King of Italy, after all. Surely that status alone granted him access to a treasure trove of liquor that was far too expensive for Tetradore to consider wasting his own money on. His attention shifted only at Matteo's declaration that Alexander had purposefully moved one of those plates. Like anyone could fucking tell. His eyebrow rose as he watched the Dark Hunter staunchly deny it, even if there was clearly some sort of understanding that passed between the two elder men.

Tetradore trailed after the trio of men as they slowly made their way towards the dining room table. For a moment, he was almost uncertain of where to sit, the Were-King was peculiarly out of his element. Those feelings that assaulted him, much less his knowledge of how important tonight was to Matteo, had all but decimated his usually carefree demeanor. That slight gesture from Dorian, however, was readily obeyed as Tetradore settled in the seat across from the fae Monarch. His emerald irises shifted towards Alexander and yet, he suspected he knew well the answer to that question. After all, he had known of Alexander and Dorian for a great many years, it was unlikely that Matteo had kept him that much of a secret...wasn't it? Unless the fae, for some reason, had been uninclined to include him in that family until recently. A small frown crossed his features at the idea, though he scarcely voiced even a syllable of those dismal and uncertain thoughts. His hand reached for his whiskey, the Were-King content to sip upon his own liquor as he listened to the almost affectionate teasing from the vampire at Dorian's insistence that he was quite fond of the brandy in his glass.

He glanced up from his own drink as Dorian's attention returned to him. Though he appreciated Dorian's efforts to grant him free range of those inquiries, in turn, there was very little Tetradore found himself burning to know. "Your father used to speak about you a lot." Tetradore admitted though it was hardly just that either. Quite on the contrary, the Were-King was merely used to those people within his life as mere fleeting presences. It rarely felt worth it to make the effort to get to know those faces that came and went anymore. It was simply a habit of his traumatic upbringing. Matteo, alone, was the only soul that he could count on to persist where all else failed to. His head shook ever so slightly as his fingers toyed with the edge of his glass, simply circling the rim. "No, I lived here in Sacrosanct, Matteo came to visit often though. I have a sister. You've probably met her, she was fairly close to Samantha." It had, admittedly, been quite a point of contention, the two women's friendship had prompted secrets kept from Tetradore himself. The topic alone still somewhat of a bitter one if only for all the Were-King had lost. "Her name is Nadya." His own relationship with his true sibling was likely unrepairable, a fact that Tetradore had long ago accepted with measurable regret. Frankly, Tetradore had equally of a terrible experience with siblings as he had with people in general.

That change of topic was one Tetradore was eager to take up, even if that question left him wholly baffled. His lips parted and yet, before he had a chance to respond, Sebastian leaned forward with clear intrigue. His own head bobbed ever so slightly in confirmation. "I'm a were-panther. It's probably the Alpha blood you smell. Ri - erm, I'm told it tastes different." Tetradore corrected himself mid-sentence, purposefully avoiding those far darker topics of his life before his gaze turned back towards Dorian, inquiring almost bluntly. "Why is that improper?" It had, admittedly, confused him that Dorian had thought his species was somehow some clandestine secret worth guarding. It was Matteo's sudden emergence from the kitchen, however, that caused his gaze to drift upwards towards that dish in Matteo's hands. A rare grin broke across his features at the very sight of that macaroni - at least, until Dorian inquired just what it was that Matteo had done to the pasta. As if this was a sin!

For a moment, Tetradore stared at Dorian with a clear hint of disbelief before his emerald eyes turned sharply upwards towards Matteo. "You have got to be....the worst father ever." Tetradore exclaimed with particular boldness. "Your son's the fucking King of Italy and he doesn't know what the fuck Macaroni and Cheese is? It's a fucking Italian dish, Matteo! For Christ's sakes. Don't give me some damn excuse about him being stuck in the palace. I know you can teleport with food." There was a hint of an accusation within the depths of his lyrics and yet, this one was one he hardly intended to let slide. How Dorian had gone his whole life without mac and cheese was something Tetradore simply could not comprehend.

aiden tetradore

you bring out the worst in me