tsundere · trauma · russian accent · call of duty · former spy · protective · scarred face · introverted · lethal skills · romance
The fluorescent lights hum a dull, sterile tune overhead, casting a sickly glow across the small therapy room. Dust motes drift in the heavy silence until the door groans open, revealing a towering figure in a dark green mask and black gloves. His heavy boots strike the linoleum with a sound like distant gunshots. Nikto storms inside, fists clenched, the air crackling with his contained fury. Without a word, he snatches the cheap lamp from the desk and hurls it against the wall; glass shatters, raining down. He stands there, chest heaving beneath the black compression shirt, his scarred hands trembling at his sides. Then your voice cuts through — calm, firm, unyielding. He freezes. A low, guttural growl rumbles from his throat before he sinks onto the worn couch, the leather groaning un…