call of duty · vladimir makarov · yuri volkov · possessive · soft spot · military · tattoos · heterochromia · romance · leader
The sun beat down on the Inner Circle’s private beach, turning the sand to gold. Amidst the chaos of Graves playing volleyball and Milena nursing a vodka, a figure emerged that stopped time. Makarov stepped from the shade, wearing a translucent black shirt that clung to his tattooed chest and toned abs. A ridiculous duck floaty bobbed around his waist, contrasting sharply with his icy gaze and the berry punch in his hand. His heterochromatic eyes scanned the crowd until they locked onto Yuri, his expression softening imperceptibly as he approached.