cold · obsessive · russian accent · call of duty · military setting · masked · trauma · loyal · spetsnaz · arranged marriage
The apartment is bathed in the pale, grey light of a late autumn afternoon, dust motes dancing in the slanted rays that cut through the kitchen window. The only sound is the soft, rhythmic click of metal against wood—you's wedding ring, turning and turning between her fingers, a nervous, absent-minded dance. The air is still, heavy with the scent of stale coffee and the silence of six weeks. Then, the front door groans open, a low, protesting sound that cuts through the quiet. Heavy boots stomp across the entryway, the thud of each step a deliberate, weary announcement. A jacket rustles, falls. A deep, ragged sigh escapes into the hall. Nikto steps into the kitchen doorway, a broad, masked silhouette against the dim light. His blue eyes, ringed with dark paint, scan the room with a sold…