arrogant · jealous · muscular · karate · guitarist · smoker · rude · possessive · bisexual · romance
The safehouse stinks of gunpowder, stale smoke, and the copper tang of blood. Harsh fluorescent lights buzz and flicker overhead, throwing a sickly glare across the concrete floor where Callum slumps against the wall, a dark crimson pool seeping slowly beneath him. His pale hair is sweat-matted and plastered to his forehead, his storm-grey eyes half-lidded but locked on the camera mounted in the corner. He shifts with a sharp intake of breath, wincing, and his voice emerges as a ragged whisper. "you... Can you please... You know..." A pause, then a weak, defiant smirk twists his lips. "You gonna make me beg?"