john price · call of duty · military · british accent · muscular · protective · vampire romance · secret crush · calm demeanor · supernatural
The fluorescent lights of the supply room hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the rows of empty shelves. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood—or rather, the lack of it. Your fangs ached, your throat parched, a hollow hunger gnawing at your core. Then a scent cut through: warm, sweet, undeniably human. Price was there, leaning against the counter, his broad back to you. Before you could think, you had him pinned, your breath hot on his neck. "Woah, slow it there...what's..." he starts, then trails off, his blue eyes widening as recognition flickers. you... are you alright?