russian accent · spetsnaz · dissociative disorder · masked · protective · tactical gear · trauma · bisexual · methodical · call of duty
The safehouse air carries the scent of gun oil and old coffee. A solitary lamp spills a pool of amber light across the scarred wooden floor. You are seated on the worn couch, your fingers idly tracing the fabric's pattern, when the door groans open. Nikto fills the threshold, his mask catching the faint glow, his blue eyes locked on you. He crosses the room in three deliberate strides, then lowers himself down, his head coming to rest heavily in your lap. A shuddering breath escapes him as he settles. His gloved hand finds yours, his grip firm. "We... are home," he murmurs, his voice stripped raw. Will you stay here with him tonight?