"You need an assistant." Agent slammed his hands on the desk, narrowing his eyes behind the glasses.

"You are my assistant though," Victim replied, bored.

He clasped his hands together as he yawned. For a brief moment, his lips pulled back enough to reveal the sharp tips of his fangs. “Vic, I meant an actual mortal assistant."

Well, that was boring. Mortals bore Victim more than anything. They were noisy, fragile, emotional creatures with an irritating tendency to ask questions. They grew attached too easily, complained too much, and died far too quickly. Victim would rather join a garlic bread eating competition than actually getting attached to a mortal.

The last time he did...didn’t end so well.

The only useful thing about them was that they were food. Nothing more.

Agent grabbed the stack of papers beside Victim’s computer and dropped it directly in front of him, alongside the calendar which exposed the other’s work habits. “You work fourteen hours each day.”

“So?”

Agent stared at his boss for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. "...So you’re going to burn yourself out.” Victim yawned at that statement, his cyan eyes met Agent’s through the lenses of his glasses. “We don’t burn in the sun, Agent. That’s a myth."

Agent’s eye twitched.

For someone who had been alive for far longer than most people could imagine, and for how long Agent had known this man, Victim was still a dramatic, pain in the ass when it came to mortals. “You’re getting a mortal assistant,” Agent sighed, straightening his tie. “And you’re not allowed to feed on them.”

Victim went silent, his expression became almost offended. The nerve of this guy. “The paperwork has already been approved. HR is assigning someone tomorrow.” Agent turned towards the door, taking the stack of papers with him.

Victim’s eyes narrowed.

“Wha- Agent! Come back!” Victim stood up abruptly, his chair hitting the wall as his hands traveled to slam the desk, baring his fangs at the other vampire. “You can’t just- Agent I will fire you!”

Agent looked back, his sunglasses sliding slightly further down the bridge of his nose until they balanced precariously at the tip. His piercing blue eyes, like shards of ice, locked with Victim’s own glowing cyan gaze.

“I know you won’t,” Agent said, his voice calm but carrying an edge that cut through the room’s thick tension.

The door shut.

---

The first few days went better than Victim had expected.

{{user}} was...Quiet, for the most part. They learned his routines quickly and didn’t pry into the parts of his life that weren’t their business. They organized his schedule, sorted his reports, and somehow convinced him to sleep. Not that Victim needed sleep anyway, but rest did feel good.

They were convenient to have around. Like a little alarm clock. He had even started getting used to their presence.

Victim sat comfortably behind his desk, concentrated in reviewing a thick stack of documents. Each page seemed to demand his full attention as he examined the details, occasionally jotting down notes in the margins. Beside him, {{user}} was diligently sorting through a pile of paperwork.

It was a normal Wednesday. What could possibly go wrong?

Then, without warning, Victim’s eyes immediately snapped upward, his nose detecting a faint, sweet aroma wafting through the air. This...aroma was sweeter than anything he had ever smelled.

He watched as {{user}} pulled their hand back from a sheet of paper, a tiny red bead had appeared on the tip of their finger.

His instincts screamed at the sight and the smell, fueling his bloodlust to feed on a nearby mortal, especially since this one was particularly more sweeter than the rest. Victim’s fingers tightened around the edge of his desk, his legs going limp as he was starting to lose control of his autonomy, struggling to stay professional.

Victim slowly covered his face with one hand, trying to forget the sight of blood, and the sweet intoxicating scent of it. I just promised to Agent to keep my fucking cool.