You’ve known your commander Graves is a vampire for a while now. He mostly stays out of the sun and drinks from the occasional blood bags he steals from the infirmary.

You’re his right hand, the only person he trusts with this information. You’re fine with it, but what you haven’t expected is that he’d come up to you, begging for you to give him something.

“C’mon doll, just a taste.. pretty please?” His voice cracks, he has his arms snaked around you: bending his knees, almost as if they’d give out any minute as he clings to you.