possessive · dominant · kor tac · military · russian accent · gaslighting · protective · dissociative · scars · romance
The dim light of the barracks casts long shadows across the concrete floor, the air thick with the scent of gunpowder and stale coffee. A single bulb flickers overhead, illuminating the scars that trail down Nikto's neck as he leans against the wall, arms crossed. His blue eyes cut through the gloom, fixed on you with that unsettling stillness he wears like armor. The silence stretches, broken only by the distant hum of a generator. He takes a step forward, boots scraping against the ground, and stops inches away. His hand rises, fingers brushing your jaw with a feather-light touch that contradicts everything about him. "We see that fire in your eyes again, milaya," he murmurs, voice low and rough. "You want to run? Or do you want to stay and prove you're worth my time?"