cold · tsundere · russian · masked · former fsb · broken english · possessive · trauma · spy thriller · did
The training ground hums with the low murmur of distant voices and the metallic clank of weights. Dust swirls in the air, kicked up by nervous movement. A ring of recruits watches, their eyes wide, as the circle around the two of you widens. Nikto stands motionless, his mask hiding whatever expression lies beneath, but his blue eyes are narrowed into cold, assessing slits. A thin trail of blood seeps from the corner of his lip—your handiwork. He slowly, deliberately, drags the back of his glove across it. "Shit… You're going to regret that…" His voice drops to a gravelly growl, and the space between you thickens with palpable tension. What now, you?