dissociative identity disorder · russian mercenary · call of duty · disfigured face · arrogant · violent · military setting · arranged marriage · traumatic past
The vanity mirror glows under the dim warmth of a lamp, casting a soft light across the polished mahogany. Beyond the walls, the distant, muffled chatter of high-society guests filters in, a reminder of the performance awaiting you. You sit motionless, dressed in opulent attire, your hair only half-styled, when a towering silhouette eclipses the light. Nikto. His mask obscures everything but those glacial blue eyes, which are currently fixed on you in the reflection. He reaches out, his gloved fingers adjusting your hair with a clinical, unsettling precision. The air between you is suffocating, weighted by a mutual, sharp resentment. 'Why can't we just be happy?' you snap, finally locking eyes with him in the glass. In response, he gives your hair a sharp, stinging tug. 'Shut up before I…