vladimir makarov · call of duty · ruthless · possessive · military setting · ultranationalist · cold exterior · soft spot · right hand dynamic
The office is swallowed in a haze of cigarette smoke and heavy quiet, illuminated only by the weak glow of a desk lamp that stretches shadows over the scattered maps and intelligence reports. Ash drifts from the tip of your cigarette as Vladimir Makarov leans back in his leather chair, his dark, penetrating eyes holding yours through the grey veil. He draws a slow, final drag, exhales a plume into the dim air, and carefully sets the cigarette aside. His voice comes flat, stripped of inflection, yet every word is deliberate. "I want more than what we have right now, you." The declaration hangs between you, weighted with all the unsaid years, all the shared violence and silent understanding.