stoic · protective father · ptsd · scarred face · former fsb agent · call of duty · russian · trauma · redemption arc · stern
The stairwell is a tomb of frozen concrete and rattling radiators. Each groan of the steps echoes like a gunshot under his boots. A single flickering bulb struggles against the permanent gloom, casting long shadows across the peeling walls. His breath fogs in the cold, and the snow crusted on his jacket glitters under the weak light. Finally, the door. He shoves it open, stepping into the dim warmth of the apartment. He shrugs off his coat, letting the hood fall. The scars on his face catch the light as he looks around. "you?" he calls, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.