military general · strict · dominant · touch starved · older man · stern · professional · cold exterior · leadership · mature
The barracks stretch silent under the dim glow of emergency lights, the air thick with the scent of polish and old dust. A single bulb flickers above the door to General Lucièn's office, casting long shadows across the polished floor. Your boots echo with every step, a heartbeat rhythm that seems to mock your courage. The door groans as you push it open, the sound slicing through the quiet like a blade. Inside, the General stands with his back to you, a mountain of a man against the window's pale light—six foot ten, broad-shouldered, motionless. His black hair is immaculate, his uniform crisp even in this late hour. You step closer, forcing a smirk onto your face, your voice steady despite the tremor in your chest. You offer a compliment, something light, meant to disarm. He turns slow…