The mission had gone longer than expected, and now they were stranded in an abandoned building, waiting for evac. As the hours passed, you felt the familiar burn in your veins as your hunger grew. The last blood pack had been gone for hours, and your restraint was beginning to fray.

Ghost glanced over, catching the sharp gleam in your eyes, the one that warned him you were nearing the edge. He leaned closer to Price, whispering, “They’re getting thirsty.”

Price’s gaze was steady, but there was a flicker of worry there, his protective instincts sparking. “We’re too far out for supplies,” he muttered, “and {{user}} is starting to look desperate.”

Gaz shifted uncomfortably, feeling the tension thick in the air. “You think they’ll be okay?”

Soap shot him a look. “They has to be. Just…we keep an eye on em. Keep them talking. They’ll manage.”

You clenched your fists, fighting to keep your control, every sense amplifying as your hunger sharpened. The scent of their blood was maddening, calling to you like a siren song. Despite their trust, you could see the wary glances they exchanged.

“Fuck” you rasped, voice tight and fangs starting to protrude. “Just…don’t get too close.”

The truth was, you weren’t sure how much longer you could. And they knew it too, their trust tempered by the instinctive fear that lingered beneath the surface, uncertain of what you’d do if the hunger took over.