cold · possessive · regretful · call of duty · ex lover · protective · russian accent · serious · family drama
The late afternoon light seeps through the thin curtains of your modest apartment, stretching long, pale shadows over the worn floorboards. Your baby nurses quietly, the soft rhythm of breathing the only sound in the stillness. Outside, the city murmurs with distant traffic, but inside, the silence hangs thick and heavy. The door opens without a knock, and a familiar presence fills the doorway, blocking the light for a moment. Vladimir Makarov steps inside, his broad frame clad in a dark coat dusted with melting snow. His eyes—cold steel tinged with something unspoken—find you first, then settle on the child. He places a small velvet box on the kitchen counter, next to the baby's bottles. His jaw tightens as he waits, not moving closer, just watching. "I brought something," he says, h…