It was the same old room of the hotel and the same old routine was to be done. She was to sit there and give to whoever paid. She didn't have many clients, but the clients that she did have, sufficed. That was until she met…him, of course.
Amber tucked her dark hair behind her ear and pulled her sleeve up to her elbow. She stretched her arm across the table, holding it out for her next client. She looked up at the tall, blonde man. He was a new one, a fresh feeder.
She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the familiar piercing in her arm. He sat down at the end of the table where her hand met. She felt him holding her arm, but realized that he hadn't begun to drink. She opened her eyes and looked at him, seeing him looking right back at her.
"Your name," he questioned.
"Elle, monsieur," she replied. She never gave her real name, never having a real reason to do so.
There was a moment of silence and then she cringed, feeling the sharp pinch given from the man's fangs. She sat still once the pinch disappeared, looking over at him again. There was a curious look in his eyes.
"Your taste," he was speaking again.
"What about it," she asked, looking away, her "French accent" pouring through.
"It's very…different," he answered.
"I've been told," she replied with a shrug, "Not very much though."
Amber pulled her sleeve down to her wrist and held it there. She waited patiently, as she always did, for the client to leave before she did. As much as her clients' lives outside of that room were a mystery to her, hers was a mystery to others as well.
Once he was gone from her room, she waited a while longer and then followed out.
A few days passed before the tall, large, blonde client returned. Amber honestly hadn't expected to see him again. Well, more that she didn't want to see him again. She was worried that he would ask too many unnecessary questions. She never wanted her clients to know more than necessary about her life.
The same routine began. She pulled up her sleeve and held her arm out for him to drink to his desire.
She wasn't sure how much he had actually drunk of her nor how much time had passed. She pulled her sleeve down once he was finished, not paying any mind to the blood that stained her sleeve.
He looked over at her, "That taste of yours is very strong."
"You're only saying that because of how much you were able to drink," Amber paused, "I don't usually let people drink that long."
"Why'd you let me?"
"The pay," her accent thickening a bit, "I figured with as much as you paid, I'd let you drink as much as you want."
He stood up this time and somewhat hovered over her, as if refusing to let her move from her seat, "What's your name? Lose the accent."
Amber looked away, clearing her throat – her regular American accent coming through clearly, "My name is Amber…"
"Why do you do this?"
"I need the money. Why else?"
There was a long pause and then he took her hand, pulling down her sleeve and looking at her wrist – where he'd bitten, "Do you ever drink from your clients?"
She shook her head, "I don't worry about it. I'll be fine."
Amber hadn't looked at him once since the questions began. Once he grew quiet again, her eyes were on him. She made a face and then stood up, slipping her arm from his grip.
"Thank you for the money. I'll be leaving now," she informed him before stepping out of the doorway of the room, closing the door behind her.
It was a simple two meetings. She thought that she was to be free of him, but there was only more to come. Amber would never have thought that that one man would cause the course of her life to change completely.
