Lust, Blood and Revenge

“You know what the funny part about revenge is?” She asked, skimming her hand over the rows of books.
“The irony.” He murmured, flipping through a volume that was sprawled open on his desk. He watched the words in hesitation, like they would somehow disappear or change if he wasn’t careful.
She shook her head, “No, nothing like that.” She stopped and picked up a book. Leafing through it she threw it to the floor, bored. “Irony means nothing when no ones a live to enjoy it.” She picked up another, but still, she was unsatisfied and threw the book on top of the last one. “No, irony has nothing to do with revenge. It’s the blood.”
He looked up from his reading, “What?”
“The blood. It’s so pretty. How it sparkles in the moon light, how it tastes on your tongue.” She licked her lips at the thought.
“You’re not a vampire Amya.”
“Doe is matter?” She asked, looking at him with a sly grin.
He shook his head and continued to look through the book on his desk. Flipping through the pages, frantically, trying to find the words he needed. Amya watched him carefully, trying to see past the mask that he so carefully sculpted. “You’re a strange man John Kramer. What is it you are so desperately trying to find?” She made her way towards the desk, walking silently up behind him. “Are you trying to get rid of me?” She whispered in his ear.
John shook his head, “You know I can’t do that.” He replied, trying to keep his voice even.
“That’s right, because you, you decided to fall in love with me didn’t you?” He was speechless until Amya started to laugh. “No need to be afraid darling. I won’t hurt you.” She leaned close enough for John to feel the heat of her skin, “Yet.”
“Why do you have to do that?” He asked, barely breathing.
She chuckled and sat on his desk, “Do what?”
“Never mind, let’s just go before they come back.”
“What? You afraid of a little massacre at this time of night?” John looked at her with a piercing glance of annoyance. “Oh, I hate this century. There’s too much hesitation, not enough action. Besides, who would ever know? I’m not a messy eater.” Her lip puffed into a pout, and her eyes widened, begging.
John shook his head again, “We can get someone on the way. There’s no need to risk getting the books messy.”
“That’s all you ever care about, your stupid books filled with stupid words. Words mean nothing, at least not in your line of work. You should have a little appreciation for that, seeing as your father was a…”
“We’re not going there.” He put in, slamming the book shut. “Let’s go. Now.”
“Fine, but remember your promise.”
He rolled his eyes and put on his jacket, “How could I possibly forget with you around?” John practically ran through the door, and Amya shut it quietly behind her, smiling. This was going to be so much fun.