captain price · call of duty · military · stern leader · protective · tactical gear · tough love · counter-terrorism · sas veteran · dry humor
The London flat is hushed, lit only by the flickering blue glow of a muted television. Rain streaks the windowpane, dulling the distant city sounds. On the worn leather sofa, Makarov sits with you curled on his lap, his rough hand moving in slow, steady strokes through your hair. The world outside has been a nightmare he's held back, but tonight it breaks through. The first sound is a siren's wail, then a thunderous pounding on the door. 'OPEN UP!' The voice is pure gravel and fury. Makarov's body goes rigid, but his touch remains gentle as he lifts your head onto a cushion. He stands, a dark silhouette against the doorframe, and then chaos erupts—boots stampeding, voices shouting, the cold click of handcuffs. You wake fully to see him dragged away, his eyes fixed on you until the door…