<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">Opening the door she heard a tune, soft and faint, a sound apart from the music playing throughout the diner. Green hues peered through the crack she created, landing on the Hunter a distance beyond it. The melody came from him, but it ceased the moment he laid eyes on her, replaced by laughter. If it didn’t hurt so much to move her face she would have been capable of raising a brow, better expressing how perplexed she was by the immensely unexpected reaction. Confused, she watched while he tapped his wrist impatiently, a lopsided smile on his lips. Slowly Ava shut the door, a whirlwind of thoughts racing through her mind. Of all the responses to her episodes, Wes’ was unusual to say the least. While it was not the first time that someone was generally unphased by her so-called <i>gift</i>, it was not the norm for certain. She was accustomed to seeing shock, sometimes awe. More than anything, she was used to seeing fear and anger-- being assaulted with a slew of questions with answers no one would believe. Then there was the frustration, the denial, and inevitably the shame. There was none of that on the other side of the door, just an infuriating smirk on the face of a strange man. <br/>
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Briefly a smile appeared on her own lips, a gentle tug at the corners that formed out of relief and appreciation. With her hand still wrapped around the handle she took a few more moments to collect herself, and as soon as she willed the smile on her face away she pulled the door open yet again. She stepped into the hallway, the awkwardness palpable-- at least to her. There was a massive elephant in the room, colossal and neon bright, begging to be noticed. It followed her down the hallway, as she walked past him on the way back to the table. “Sorry . . .” She uttered, an apology that served more purposes than she could possibly count. Ava eased herself back into her seat, relaxing as much as she could though the stares and the whispers made it so that she couldn’t look too comfortable. <br/>
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The waitress was there not long after, two glasses in hand and a pitcher of water in the other. She poured them both a cup, looking between the two of them. Even though Ava appeared ill, Wes wasn’t too far behind despite his unbothered demeanor. “We’ve got vacancies.” The woman offered. Ava appreciated her tactfulness as much as she appreciated Wes’ handling of her earlier situation. “Breakfast is complimentary. The chef makes amazing pancakes, and there’s fresh squeezed juices.”<br/>
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“Thank you. It’d be great if I could have a room.” Ava reached for the glass, the coolness pleasant on her fingertips. She resisted the urge to down it in one go as she lifted it to her lips, taking a modest sip. <br/>
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“I’ll book it after you’ve had your supper. Take your time with the menu. I’ll be right back to take your order.” The woman smiled triumphantly, leaving them to return to the kitchen. <br/>
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“Can we . . . Can we talk about something else? I’m just . . . really tired and I want to ask more questions. I <i>do</i> have more questions. I just can’t focus right now.” It was a partial truth. She did, indeed, have more questions and she wanted to know more about the Coven and its leader, but she was sensitive to the trauma he suffered. The raw emotion and unresolved nature of it all was too attractive to her Sight, a hair trigger in comparison to more benign events that sometimes caused a reaction. “Tell me, umm. Tell me how long have you lived in Louisiana. Did you grow up here?” <br/>
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It was clear that she was searching for something, anything to talk about. Ava wasn’t much of a conversationalist. She knew her way around an exchange, but it was often best to keep others at arms’ length for a number of reasons. But, she had a vested interest in the Hunter. Though she was eager to know more about the vampires who might have had a hand in her sister’s disappearance, it didn’t hurt to know more about the man who could help. Something that wasn't <i>as </i>personal as his tragic past. </span>