[She wasn't looking for him? She wasn't... looking for him. He presses his forehead to the cool glass of the door in momentary relief as years of finely honed skills find nothing of deceit in her voice. Though, while she may not be lying about just why she's here, there's certainly a lot more that she is hiding.

But that, arguably, is none of Marius' business.

He turns away from the door and leans on it with a small, reserved smile. Marius has the look about him that all vampires of his advanced age seem to get - the too-bright eyes, the flawless complexion, the way of moving with a kind of unearthly, effortless grace that barely produces the sound of a footfall as they walk.

That smile, though, while small is not stiff or forced. This vampire, despite his age, is still holding on to a great many of the things that once made him human.

They are, aren't they. [He agrees softly. When he approaches her it's slowly, a wary curiosity in his eyes. God, but she's young.]

I... apologise for the abruptness of my reaction. I haven't seen another vampire in at least a hundred years.

( Of all the antique shops in all the world... Her eyes follow him but Eva stands still, confusion flickering through her expression as she watches him. So clearly a vampire, too elegant and too silent to be anything else, but so, so far from any of the ones she'd encountered before. They didn't smile. Didn't care about anything but feeding, or exacting revenge on hunters.

They certainly weren't running antique shops. )

Most of them still have fangs.

( She laughs, and this time it's less awkward. )

[Marius smiles again, still barely there but warm. His own fangs are barely visible now, barely ever needed. He'd look almost human if it wasn't for everything about him that screamed of the supernatural. Most of the mortals who came in here managed to avoid noticing it, or didn't point it out if they did.

How do you tell someone you think they might be a vampire, when vampires obviously don't exist?]

I'm sure they do. [In more was than one, no doubt. He would imagine a good number of them are still fighters, too.]

What's your name? I am called Marius.

( It does help, the secrecy, even for the hunter. People aren't as scared as they should be, which means they're not distracted by hysterical people and false tips. All their research was their own, and when you said "hunter", people just thought of you running around woods looking for deer and pheasants. )

Ah-- ( No, not that. Even if it's still burned at the back of her mind, still the name on her birth certificate (and for a moment, she wonders what her father ever did about all of that? Is he pretending she's dead? Even with that tell-tale red hair of hers?), it isn't the one she can use any more.

And who knew that there would come a time where she was standing, exchanging forms of address with a vampire in a shop like she was making friends?

She's fallen so far from what she was meant to be. )

Eva. My name is Eva.