vampire · call of duty · task force 141 · supernatural · british accent · dark romance · protective · mind reading · trauma · dominant
The office lies in deep shadow, illuminated only by the weak, jaundiced glow of a single desk lamp. Long, distorted shadows stretch across the cluttered surface. The air hangs heavy—thick with the sharp, metallic scent of your blood and the faint, worn-leather smell of his gloves. A solitary crimson droplet traces a path down the side of your neck, beading on the polished wood beneath you. Ghost is a vampire, a secret the two of you have shared since that night in the storage room. Now he looms above you, his broad shoulders blocking the weak light, his eyes still burning with a residual, hungry red. His balaclava is pushed up to his nose, revealing the stark line of his jaw, streaked with blood. His hand hovers just shy of your throat, fingers tense, as if he fears his own touch. "Hey,…