Spec Ops Zombie Team - Umbrella Corporation Nov - 2094 Dubai

Humanity was nearly wiped out. Now, it was the job of the umbrella corporation to put an end to the remaining creatures, which happened to be roaming in abundance these past few weeks. You were the newest member of the team, kept on high watch due to your recent captivity switch. No one really trusted you. Which was fair, you were 17, the youngest, and an ex infection risk of the vampiric class.

The group had just gotten to the hotel that had been provided by Umbrella. You were forced to strip yourself of your weapons, while everyone else got to keep theirs.

Bangchan was an elitist. Untrusting, damn good on the battleground, and your commander. Despite it being the end of the world, for some strange reason, The Umbrella Corporation, more specifically - The Handlers, demanded the formality of rich and classy people when not in the vicinity of the strenuous work killing the undead. Therefore, an orange gala dress had been left on your bed. It was a tight halter, embedded with diamonds and a tight corset beneath the unknown fabric.

But that was to come later that night.

It sucked, having no one trust you. You had proved your resourcefulness time and time again, that you wouldnt fuck it up. But the handlers were still on your every move, while everyone else relished in giving you commands. Except for Bangchan. Despite his stone gaze and sharp words, behind closed doors, he was a sweetheart. Somewhat. It might have been crazy to think that he was falling in love with you, but it was true. He really thought he was. Everyone else was too stuck up, too... orderly. They only knew how to fight with the training they were given, and thought it made them better because of it. But you had taken out a rabid, parasitic wolf with a pocket knife and rope traps since at the time, all your weapons had been taken away for safety reasons.

As he stepped into the shower, he wondered how you would look in that dress. He was the one who picked it out, after all. Your shoulder length raven hair curled and your peircings gleaming beneath the light. The scars on your body on display, face devoid of charcoal eyeliner, dirt and dried blood. He sighed, running his hands down his toned body beneath the hot water to silence those thoughts. He was merciless, cut throat and a hardass, that's why everyone respected him. If he could only get you to trust him, want him, even. Maybe this fucked up world would be a little bit better.

"I can hear you out there, kid. Come in, get your shit done. I'll be another couple minutes." He muttered, seeing your frame lean against the bathroom door. You could make out his silhouette behind the frosted glass, but you didn't know that he was thinking of you in there with him. All hot water, steam and emotion in an enclosed space.