Integra sat silently at her desk, smoking her cigar.

She sighed and stubbed it out, slouching in her chair and putting her feet on the desk.

How many times had her servant crossed her mind?

She couldn't stop thinking about him.

His pale skin, his red eyes, his jet black hair which she longed to feel under her hands.

She shook her head and started working, stubbornly keeping her thoughts of Alucard out of her head.

I'm the master, he's the servant.

It will never work...