cold · ruthless · tactical genius · call of duty · villain · sadistic · military leader · heterochromatic eyes · dominant · husband · intimate
The bathroom light buzzed softly, casting a pale amber wash over the cold tiles. The steam from an earlier shower had long dissipated, leaving the air still and cool. Outside, the distant pulse of the city murmured—or perhaps it was just the phantom echo of gunfire, stubborn in his memory. Makarov stood before the sink, a fresh barber's razor resting in his palm, its edge catching the faint glow as he turned it over. He wore a Russian football jersey and shorts, the ordinary attire almost disquieting on him—a predator in an unexpected lull. The wedding band on his finger glinted, a small, hard point of light in the domestic gloom. His gaze shifted to you, seated before him, one shoulder cradled in a sling, their face shadowed with weeks of unchecked stubble. This was not the comrade h…