It was a pleasant thing, he was sure, to be in the company of one whom might laugh so freely and jest so readily as the young woman before him. Her attempts to mimic the voice of the man whom had only moments ago berated her clumsiness and lack of attention so prompting that touch of amusement to his own lips. Ah, but the innocence of youth might charm him still, even after so many years. It was so hardly a difficult thing to query after her plans for that very paint that now marked them both and the young woman worked so diligently to remove with his borrowed cloth. Matteo in turn wholly capable of seeing the future of that very living room she so strove to decorate this evening- though whether those words he offered in response so referred to that very room or the young woman herself remained to be seen. That French Fae near as notorious for his obscurity as he was his absurdity at any given moment when that mood should strike him. That distinctly good nature, however, so seemed to underpin those very ideals with an thread of that equally good humour. After all, he had lived so terribly long that perhaps there was little left to do save for find amusement in the world at large. His comment upon that very shade she so planned to adorn her walls with seemed to spark a near sudden girlishness within her. That young witch proudly proclaiming her love for the beach. How endearing it was, though he offered no comment upon it for now as that handkerchief was returned with a word of thanks. Matteo tucking it neatly back within the rear pocket off his jeans now that its work was complete and her hands pristine once more.

He had, perhaps, not fully anticipated the sudden wariness with which she might meet that very query off her species. The young woman suddenly appearing almost....uncertain in the wake of his near blatant statement before attempting to deny that very fact altogether. That distinct effort so prompting the lift off his own silver eye in a clear curiosity as to that very reaction before she seemed to change her mind altogether and admit, instead, that he was nothing short of correct. How unfortunate a thing that something so young as she might find fear in admitting just what she was. Matteo, in that moment, attempting to offer her some sort of reassurance in regards to her species. After all, in all the world, a Witch was surely not a bad thing to be. They suffered no curse of the full moon as a Were, they did not threaten to burn in the sun as a vampire, they were not burned with blood that all but a siren to the vampire as a Fae and they possess a magic no human could ever hope to match. A Witch, surely, was a grand thing to be- or in the very least- something to be proud off. Especially with a bloodlines so old as her own. How readily he could feel that age-old magic within her. Magic near as old as his own. Generation after generation unbroken. That, he was assured, was something to be proud off. Did she know, truly, just how powerful she was? Had any ever told her off the past off her family? He suspected not and yet such a story was not his own to tell. His gaze lingered upon her still then as she spoke of that struggle, of sorts, she had faced in her attempts to merely accept what she was- let alone who. That warm simper so finding his lips once more.

"Life is dangerous, Mon Amie. Whether we are human or otherwise. Perhaps it would be easier to be human but I think to- it would be, how you say? Terribly boring. Do you know how many of them would surely long to be able to have the gifts you do? Perhaps you are lucky you are not a Fae. Vampires wish only to eat them."

That amusement of sorts danced upon his lips once more, that deep chuckle humming within the depths off his throat before his own query became perhaps a little more bold. The Frenchman so asking, this time, directly after that very magic that hummed within her veins. The very magic she was so keen to wish away in favour of a mortal life. Matteo intrigued as to just what she know of who she was. His own near playful words seeming to prompt her to relax a little in turn as that soft laugh found her own lips. That mention of the texts of her coven earning her that glimmer of surprise to his features now. Ah, perhaps there was hope for her yet. Her coven a careful one then, if its history had been preserved long enough and well enough to be passed down. Hopefully her mentor was equally as promising. It would be a shame to waste such potential as she. Whatever words he had so been about to offer however were caught upon his tongue as she inquired, suddenly, after his age- only to comment that she could see grey within his brunette locks. That stark look of surprise so flickering upon his features then as he reached near instantly for his own hair.

"Where do you see....oh, very funny."

He had, perhaps, caught onto her own jest a moment to late. His eyes rolling in that gentle good nature both at her humour and indeed how readily he had fallen for it. Another soft chuckle falling softly from his own lips before those accented words found him once more in response to her asking for his age. That look up and down she gave him hardly missed.

"I stopped aging at about, oh, twenty-five or so. I am however about two thousand one hundred and I think nineteen. It has been a little while since I counted. I think I look rather good for my age, no?"

One eye lifted just so, as if daring the woman to suggest otherwise. That ready grin upon his lips still as he gestured down that street. Matteo wholly content to find a place beside her to walk the rest of that distance toward her home. His curiosity in the young woman wholly assured. Her own confidence seeming to grow a little in those moments as she relaxed all the more within his company. Her laugh quite a pleasing thing as she asked whether or not he already knew where she lived. That soft grin so finding his lips again, those accented words near softly teasing.

"I could, perhaps, make a very educated guess."

That very insistence she hardly knew what he was so hardly came as any true surprise. With so few fae left within the world so many, these days, might spend their entire lives without meeting one. Precious few outside of the vampiric race capable of identifying even that unusual aura of sorts that denoted a fae being. Yet how long it had been since he had been called a knight! That very title, once, bestowed upon him centuries upon centuries ago when the world was young and bold and far more untamed then it found itself now.

"I think I should gladly be a Knight again, Mon Amie. It has been a long time. I am however- a fairy."

It surely did not hurt to afford her that very knowledge off his species even if only for the sake off her own learning about the world she existed within. His young companion speaking more readily of her family then and the coven from which she came. A coven that, it seemed, she had known little about until recently.

"Have you a Mentor, someone from amongst your coven to help you?"

Mentors, after all, were distinctly critical for Witches- more so then perhaps any other species outside Dark Hunters. The pair continuing further down the street then before she asked after his own ethnicity- her words bringing that chuckle from within his throat once more.

"Oui, I am French, yes, you assume correctly- and I assure you, my darling, what they say is true. We French cannot help but love our bread and cheese. They are the finest things in life I am assured. Other than wine of course. A fine wine makes it all the greater. Have you ever been to France? If you have not you are missing out on a world of pleasures. As for not harbouring my gift of all-knowing, perhaps you do not, I think instead your gifts are quite different....."


m a t t e o
it's tough to be a god