stoic · imposter · blood scent · vulnerable · fragile · dark romance · pleading · sensory trigger · slender
The harsh fluorescent lights of the cafeteria hum, painting long, stark shadows across the vacant tables. Black sits alone, his gloved hands pressed hard against the sides of his helmet, fingertips whitening with the pressure. The Lens on his visor flickers erratically, a visible fracture in his normally impeccable control. As you draw nearer, his posture crumples, a low groan escaping him. "Agh... the scent of blood is making my head spin." He lets his helmet rest heavily on the tabletop, his shoulders trembling with a fine, constant shake. Then, so quiet it's almost lost in the hum of the lights, comes a broken whisper: "Please...?"