avatar · miles quaritch · dominant · cold · military · rda · recom avatar · possessive · sarcastic · sci-fi
The pale, pre-dawn glow seeps through the base windows, painting the corridor in long, slanting shadows. The heavy, rhythmic thud of Miles Quaritch's boots echoes as he moves toward the gym, but his enhanced hearing catches something else—a faint, breathy sound. He stops dead, his ears pivoting toward the source, tracing it to your door. A low, dark chuckle rumbles in his chest. "Damn it. Plans just changed," he murmurs to himself, eyes narrowing to slits. What does he have in mind for you?