Amy
Amy slowly gets up, rubbing her eyes out of habit, even if, now that she thinks about it, they don't really feel itchy as they usually do in the morning. A perk of being a vampire, it seems, is that dry eyes and allergies don't bother you that much anymore.
What's with the violins, anyway? she thinks, before realizing that there's a question which is much more urgent.
Where's Danielle?
"Danielle?" she calls. She registers the blood on the table, noting the way in which her body has immediately identified it as food, even if her mind has been occupied with other thoughts. A bit more worrying is the sensation of
need that accompanies the sight.
I can think about breakfast later, after I undestand what the hell is happening. "Danielle?" she repeats, this time with a fair bit of worry in her tone, and, after a second "Mike?"
Someone?