Olive began to stir quite late in the morning. In her tired and delirious mind, that had been the most hellish nightmare she'd ever had to put up with—and realistic too. Vampires, how dumb is that . . .

Her nose twitched at the smell that hit her nose. She wasn't sure what it was, but it wasn't familiar enough to be the hotel room. However, she refused to open her eyes for a moment.

I'm in the hotel, Candy's beside me, I'm okay, vampires aren't real. She repeated this like a mantra in her head as many times as it took for her to feel satisfied with herself, and then she dared to open her eyes.

No hotel room. She was still fully clothed, laying on her side, and her view directly in her line of vision was the wide window that took up the entire wall in front of her. The curtains were still drawn, but there was enough daylight streaming through it to make her wince in discomfort.

Olive sat up abruptly. Her clothes were creased pretty badly, meaning that she'd have no choice but to wear the clothing given to her. No phone, no escape, no clothes. Brilliant.

She reluctantly slipped out of bed and chose to dress in the bathroom. She'd already seen for herself just how sneaky and quiet vampires were, so she wouldn't have been surprised if there had been one somewhere lurking within the room she'd just been in.

Once she was dressed, she glanced at her outfit in the full length mirror outside the bathroom door and sighed. The only dress she'd found that she could remotely tolerate was a dark green sleeveless v-neck dress that was fitted tightly around her bust. The dress itself was quite light, and went down to her mid-thigh in length. While it was the only choice of clothing she was okay with, it didn't make her any more comfortable in it.

She also added her denim jacket over her shoulders and her Converse shoes on her feet rather than those stilettos from hell. She sat down in front of the mirror cross-legged with a cushion over her lap to avoid flashing any visitors that decided to bust in uninvited, and began to inspect the state of her eyes and nose, which were still bloodshot and sore.

There was a soft knock on the door. She tensed up immediately, her heart racing in her chest. "Um . . . come in, I guess," she said hesitantly.

At first, she had fully been expecting the visitor to be Aro. Maybe the man wasn't quite finished with making her feel uncomfortable and reminding her of just how deadly he was.

But, through her view in the mirror, she saw that it was someone else entirely. She turned around, still sat on the floor. He was a good few inches taller than Aro, but he still held himself regally with his shoulders back and his chin up. His hair was in a similar style too, except it was brown and a little bit longer than Aro's was. His deep crimson eyes darted around the room before locking on hers, his piercing gaze instantly making her feel unsteady.

However, she hadn't even taken the time to notice that she was staring straight back at him. Her icy blue eyes bore into his, with her eyebrows lightly furrowed and her soft pink lips slightly parted. Her black hair was brushed and parted in the centre which framed her delicate face.

The pair blatantly stared at each other for a few long moments until Olive finally broke out of whatever trance-like state they'd found themselves in. "Uh . . . hey. Not trying to be rude or anything, but who on earth are you?"

He shook his head quickly to wake himself back up again and his gaze softened a little. "I apologise, how very rude of me," he murmured. He moved across the room to sit on the armchair beside the bed, pleasantly surprised when Olive sat on the edge of the bed so that she was facing him. "I am Marcus."

He extended his hand out. After internally debating with herself for a long moment, Olive shook it with uncertainty. "Olive."

Olive, he repeated to himself in his head. He'd gotten so used to associating that face with Didyme, yet somehow that name suited her. In an odd yet unexplainable way, it fit her personality perfectly.

There was an awkward silence—well, Olive found it awkward. Marcus, however, seemed unbothered by the uncomfortable pause in their conversation. "Are your eyes okay?" he asked after a moment.

A string of incoherent syllables left her lips, which eventually ended with "what?"

The corners of his lips turned up into a smile. He noticed that, as she became increasingly flustered by his presence, her pale cheeks seemed to gain a pinkish glow. "I asked if your eyes are okay," he repeated himself. "I cannot help but notice they look rather painful."

"Painful? Psh, no, why'd you say that?" Her tone oozed with sarcasm.

"The way you seem to wince every time you blink, and the odd expression you are giving me currently," he answered honestly.

Olive let out an uncomfortable and thus unnatural laugh. "Oh, this expression is my resting bitch face. It has nothing to do with you. Seriously, I don't know how it could with a face like yours. Did I really say that out loud? I'm sorry, I'm being weird. I'll shut up now."

Marcus tried hard to hide the smug grin that was threatening to appear on his face, which was an expression he wasn't exactly used to pulling. For such an adorable yet slightly rude girl, he found it mildly amusing how much she seemed to struggle to keep herself calm in the presence of someone she found attractive.

"It is quite alright. That is not a strange comment to make at all," Marcus assured her. "I hear you have already met my brother."

"Oh, Mr. Vampire? What was his name? Aro, that's it. Also, what kind of name is Aro anyway? Was a generic name like Nigel or Colin or something really that hard?" Olive repeated the name 'Aro' to herself a few times and stuck her tongue out at it, which only humoured Marcus further.

"The name is Greek, my dear," he told her. "It is not a common name in this day and age."

"This day and age?" Olive questioned with a brow raised. "I know you suck blood and all that jazz, but how old are you? 100? Higher or lower?"

Marcus chuckled and stood to his feet. "These are questions better explained while walking. Care to join, my dear?" He extended his bent arm for her to take.

Olive stared at his arm for a moment in pure confusion before glancing up at him. He was so magnificently tall, to the point where she knew there was a good chance that she'd start drooling if she stared for too long. But, for some reason, she couldn't help herself, and instead found her gaze entirely unmoving.

"…Olive? Olive?"

She blinked a few times and looked around her in alarm before gazing back up at him. Her hand was somehow already looped around his arm. "Did I zone out?" she asked. He hummed in confirmation. "Well, I do that a lot, get used to it."

He merely laughed under his breath and led her out of the room since he'd left the door unlocked behind him. Olive hadn't had a chance to leave the confinements of that room for over 12 hours now, not since she'd been hurled inside in the first place, so she found herself sighing heavily at the feeling of fresh air hitting her lungs.

Marcus noticed her little sigh and smiled to himself. He'd been just slightly concerned about keeping the poor girl locked away for such a prolonged period of time. Although there had been very few other options for them to do with her, it didn't make him feel any easier about her being treated like a prisoner.

"Um, Marcus?" His gaze automatically snapped around to hers at the mention of his name just by force of habit, which definitely startled her. "You're kinda walking too fast. I only have little legs." She kicked one of her legs up subtly for effect.

"Of course, my apologies." Marcus slowed the pace he was walking at right down and smiled down at her now that she was no longer struggling to keep up with his strides. He'd almost let himself forget just how much shorter than him she was. "You asked of our age," he began.

Internally, he had a feeling that this topic of conversation couldn't possibly end well. It would only confuse her, surprise her, or completely frighten her off. Preferably, he wanted to avoid any of those eventualities, but he knew the subject of his age would have to be brought up sooner or later.

She laughed quietly. Marcus momentarily shut his eyes in content at the sound he'd missed so much over the years. "Higher or lower than 100?" she asked him.

"Much higher," he replied.

Olive really wasn't keen on where this was going. "1000?"

Marcus hesitated. He could already sense the increasing discomfort levels around her. "Still much higher, I'm afraid."

"Seriously? I was joking as well. 2000?" she questioned.

"Keep going."

"3000?"

One of the corners of his lips turned up. "You are getting much closer to it now."

"3500 then?" she quizzed.

He hummed in thought. "Close enough, my dear. I am approximately 3400 years of age."

It took a moment for Olive's brain to really process the information she'd been just given, but when she did, her arm subconsciously loosened from his. She feigned interest in a little piece of stone on the ground, and only a soft yet surprised, "oh," escaped her lips.

Marcus placed his hand over hers reassuringly, as he was so used to doing. However, once he'd realised what he'd done and the uncomfortable situation that action would undoubtedly put her in, he quickly removed it, faster than her human mind could register.

He sighed. "I know our ages can be rather overwhelming-"

"Our?" she repeated in disbelief. "Aro's that old as well?"

He nodded his head in confirmation. "And the other members of our coven, of course."

She blinked at him. "Your—what now?" she asked.

They reached a heavy pair of mahogany doors which Marcus was able to push open easily, although he knew that Olive would never have managed to open them on her own. Those doors led out to the gardens, which happened to be one of few places he enjoyed to go to for peace and solitude. He likely wouldn't have chosen to take her outside if the weather hadn't been as overcast as it was. As of currently, he really had no wish for her to see his skin glistening under the sunlight.

"Our coven," Marcus repeated as he led her through the garden at a leisurely strolling pace. "While some of our kind travel alone—they are often termed 'nomads'—others organize themselves into . . . I suppose you could consider it a family of sorts, or a coven. We are the Volturi coven, the oldest and largest known coven in existence."

"Oh. So, who's in this coven then?" she asked.

Marcus sat down on a wooden bench beside a stone carved water fountain. Olive seemed unsure of herself as she sat beside him, leaving a few inches of space. Just because she thought he was hot didn't mean she was going to act on it at all.

"Aro, his wife Sulpicia, my brother Caius and his wife Athenodora, and me." He almost found himself adding Olive to the end of that list, but he knew that it would be a rather stupid move on his part.

"And you're all vampires?" she clarified. He nodded. "And I'm a human . . . no? Not going to eat me? Because, by all means, I'm so over this place. Drink me like some kind of juice box or something."

Olive extended her wrist out to him. If anything, that only irritated Marcus, but he couldn't say he was irritated at her. No, more so at his brother who had already made her fear being killed in what was to be her own home. Ironically, she was safer here than anywhere else in the world she could possibly be in.

Marcus shook his head and moved her hand back down onto her lap gently. "I will not 'eat you', I can assure you that much. I have absolutely no desire to do that." That much was certainly true. He would never dare to harm a hair on her head.

She rolled her eyes. "Suit yourself."

He laughed quietly at her attitude. Yes, she was just as adorable as he'd remembered her to be.

"What is that on your jacket?" He glanced pointedly at the back of her denim jacket, which had clearly been hand painted.

"Oh, this?" She pointed behind her back. "That's Donald Duck." Marcus gave her an odd look. "You know? The cartoon?" He shook his head. "Remind me to watch DuckTales or Mickey Mouse Clubhouse with you to educate you on real TV."

He laughed softly. "So, do tell me about yourself, my dear."

Olive cocked her head to the side. "Myself?" He nodded. "Er, what do you want to know?"

He hummed in thought. "Let us start with your name I suppose."

"Well, my name is Olive, as you already know, Olive Grace Reed. I was born on the 17th of March 2000, so I'm currently 19. This feels like I'm writing my autobiography," she humoured.

He smiled. "I am certain that it would be a rather interesting one," he assured her. "Do continue, my dear."

She reluctantly agreed. "If you say so. I live in Miami, Florida, although I doubt I can say that anymore . . ." Her sentence trailed off glumly but instantly picked up with a smile he could tell was slightly forced. "I have an older sister, Candace, who's 21. Her birthday is only 2 days before mine, coincidentally. I was adopted when I was five, but my currently family was—no, is the best family you could possibly ask for." She paused before saying the part that always made her feel timid. "I guess I'm technically considered famous or whatever as well."

"Famous?" he asked.

"Well yeah," she replied, "but I don't tend to talk about it much. A job is a job, and I like to keep it separate from my private life wherever possible."

Olive found herself getting into such deep conversation with this man she'd just met that she wasn't even keeping an eye on the time anymore. For her, she rarely ever found someone willing to listen to her ramble for hours, but whenever she did she tended to make the most of that opportunity as much as possible.

Marcus couldn't say he was at all bothered by it, though. The girl spoke so rapidly, and the topic of rather one-way conversation appeared to shift every minute or so with occasional short breaks for air. Admittedly, it was rather entertaining, and he found himself somehow enjoying her company in some way. He'd almost go as far as to say he felt alive again. Eventually, Olive had run out of things to tell him about herself after continuing on about her childhood, her school life, and her hobbies, so Marcus began to tell her about his own past.

He laughed under his breath. "It is true. Greek is my first language."

"But when you speak English, you sound so . . . posh, and, well, English. Is it the same for other languages or something?" she questioned.

He confirmed with a nod. "Anyway, back to the story. I met Aro while travelling as a nomad, which was when we formed this coven. My brother, Caius, who I am sure you will meet sooner or later, joined shortly after with his wife, Athenodora. I fell in love myself once," He began to stare off into the distance. Olive narrowed her eyes at him curiously, "Didyme was her name." He sighed. "I unfortunately lost her in battle against an enemy coven . . ."

She frowned sympathetically and her eyebrows furrowed together. "Oh. I'm so sorry."

"It is quite alright, my dear. She was rather wonderful really." Marcus faintly smiled to himself. "Black hair, and red eyes, of course. Actually, she was Aro's younger sister, and they had such a resemblance that-"

Olive sat upright immediately. "Wait, did you just say Aro's sister?"

"That I did," he confirmed slowly and hesitantly. "Is something the matter?"

She looked away from him. Her blue eyes stared unblinkingly at the pavement beneath them in deep concentration. "Last night, Aro asked me if we have any physical resemblance to each other . . ."

Marcus growled, too low for Olive's human ears to possibly pick up. He would never understand why his damn brother always felt the need to meddle in things, as if it ever did any good. "Did he now?"

"Why am I here?" she asked quietly, as if the question was forbidden. There was something happening, something concerning her that she wasn't aware of, and she wasn't leaving until she found out exactly what it was.

"Hm?"

Olive repeated herself a little firmer. "You heard me. Why am I here, Marcus?"

Marcus was internally cursing his brother. Thanks to his unbroken curiosity, Olive was going to have to be told earlier than agreed. He really didn't want her knowing exactly who she resembled, or who she was, yet, not until she was more comfortable around him. The last thing he would ever want was to lose her a second time.

"When you entered the courtroom yesterday, did you at all wonder why we responded the way we did to your presence? To say you are completely identical to Didyme would be an understatement. You are her, everything about you. Your habits, your appearance, your personality, every single minuscule and fine detail." He sighed, and looked away from her with guilt in his eyes. "Olive, my dear . . . you are her reincarnation."

Both of them went quiet. Olive's brain was practically short-circuiting at this point. No longer did she have the mental capacity to absorb any other form of information. It felt like the world was spinning too quickly around her, tilting on its axis.

She stood to her feet, though her legs felt about as firm as jelly beneath her. "I-I need to go," she murmured.

With that, she retreated back the way they had come as quickly as her legs would possibly allow her to. Whatever happened, she didn't care, but all her mind was telling her to do was to get the fuck out of there.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Author's note: Honestly, the chapters in this story are quite a bit longer than what I'd usually do, but ah well, it's not like that's a bad thing. As you can see, we've already got a little bit of angsty shiz and Marcus has only just arrived haha. Things kind of get quite interesting next chapter, so I can't wait for you to see!

Anyway, thank you so much for reading, stay safe, and ily lots!