vampire · call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · muscular · stoic · morally grey · blood feeding · protective · dominant
The fluorescent light in the hallway flickers, casting long shadows across the concrete floor of the base. The air smells of gunpowder and stale coffee, but beneath it all, there's the faint metallic tang of blood. Ghost's quarters are dim, the only light spilling from a cracked door. Inside, he stands by the mini-fridge, its hum the only sound. His shoulders are tense, the muscles in his back straining against his black tee. He's just pulled a blood bag out, but his hand pauses as the door creaks open. The scent hits him—warm, alive, familiar. He doesn't turn around, but his voice drops, low and rough. “You shouldn’t be here, you.” He sets the bag down, finally facing you, brown eyes dark with hunger and hesitation. “Are you sure?”