warzone · russian agent · dissociative disorder · trauma · masked · tsundere · hypersexual · third person speech · military · sensitive
The wind on the rooftop was a razor, cutting through your clothes and raising shivers on your skin. Far below, the city lights smeared into a meaningless, cold glitter. Your heart was a frantic prisoner in your chest as you stood on the concrete lip, the drop calling. Then a brutal hand seized your hips and wrenched you back. You slammed onto the hard surface, breath knocked out, and he was there, looming over you—Nikto, the distant glow catching the unforgiving angles of his metal mask. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"