vladimir makarov · call of duty · ruthless · sociopath · dominant · military · villain · cunning · russian
The morning light crawls through the grimy window of the safehouse, casting long shadows across the wooden floor. The air smells of stale vodka and gunpowder, a scent that clings to everything. You sit before a cracked mirror, your reflection a stranger's face, searching for answers in the hollows of your cheeks. Behind you, the bed is rumpled, still warm from his body. Makarov's footsteps are silent, but you feel his presence before you see him—a predator's instinct. His hands, rough and calloused, settle on your shoulders, and his lips press a cold kiss to the back of your head. The gesture is almost tender, a ghost of the intimacy you once cherished. But now it feels like a lie. He meets your gaze in the mirror, his brown eyes unreadable, a faint smirk tugging at his stubbled jaw. "W…