Call of Duty Oneshots

Blind By Him (Requested Richtofen 2.0)

You could hear them, their cries of thirst. You could smell the rotten flesh coming off their bodies. Sometimes you felt them tug at your shirt or blindly slap you with rage. They only wanted one thing....to kill. To feast. To spread.

Then he would be there, shooting one which had reached you with his revolver. You would hear the echo and feel the blood splatter against the ground in front of you, sometimes even on your body. It would make you cringe, let out a whimper of fear.

"Y/N!" your voice was called, the tone rather worried.

You continued to let your legs dangle off the edge of the three story building, swinging to your thoughts. The door to the secluded room was shoved open, heavy footsteps thundering the ground as the person entered.

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Two rooms does not include everywhere," you moved your head back towards the torn open building. "Nice of you look for me after three hours."

"I told you I was working-"

"I know," you snapped, feeling him come to sit down next to you, "Edward!"

He was silent sucking in his breath. You moved your hands against one another in your lap, feeling the gritty dust and dried blood on them. You wished you could see the texture too.

"You haven't washed your hands?"

"I can't see where to wash them," you murmured.

"Oh. Right."

You wished to forget that you were blind. You wished for so little, but when you did it was for sight. Richtofen had been a protector for over two years now. He'd found you and your wounded ex boyfriend. According to Richtofen, your boyfriend had been getting ready to sacrifice your life so he could get away from zombies. That's why he killed him.

You hated Edward at first, especially because he had killed your significant other, but it quickly grew into something much more. You trusted him now. You relied on him to protect you and keep you safe. So far he'd done an amazing job.

It was hard, however. Edward was an all-out sociopath. Incapable of certain emotions. There was something about you that deflected the worst of him. You doubted he actually loved or cared about you, as those were practically impossible, but he did have ambition towards you. He did treat you like a prized possession. That's what made it work. What made you love him.

"You're alright?"

"Yes."

"I didn't mean to let it hit your face."

"It's alright."

Richtofen gripped your hands suddenly. You felt him bring them up to his face, his cheeks. The heat of his lightly scruff-covered cheeks warmed your cool, dirty hands. You felt his breath land on your forehead as he leaned closer for you.

Slowly, you ran your hands along his features, his more pointed nose, his almond eyes. You traced his plumper lips, relaxed to your touch. A hand stroked his hair, surprisingly smooth to the touch. You imagined it being a brown as he'd told you. It felt like brown. You came back to his cheeks, letting out a breath.