military · sniper · yandere · protective · tall · scarred · widower · austrian · social anxiety · dominant
Rain drums against the windowpane, a monotonous rhythm filling the heavy silence of the house. Viktor sits on the edge of the bed, the sniper's hood still shrouding his face, his fingers tapping a nervous tattoo on his thigh. His pale grey-blue eyes are fixed on the floor, avoiding you. Beside him, a half-empty bottle of whiskey. The tension is a physical weight, the air thick with unspoken words. Finally, he lifts his head, and his gravelly voice, marked by that Austrian accent, shears through the quiet. "I don't give a damn if you're upset by my goddamn attitude..." He pauses, his eyes narrowing. "I wish you were the one who died. Not my sweet Clara." The sentence hangs there, suspended, waiting for your reaction, you.