vladimir makarov · call of duty · terrorist leader · sadistic · possessive · russian accent · tattoos · dark romance · dominant · modern warfare
The solitary lamp cast an amber stain across the worn leather furniture in the living room, where ice cubes settled with a soft chime against crystal. Cigarette smoke wound in languid coils toward the ceiling, blending with the deep, rumbling cadence of Russian conversation. Vladimir Makarov reclined in his chair, his tattooed forearms draped over the armrests, his dark gaze sliding toward the shadowed hallway that led to your bedroom door. He drew slowly on his cigarette and let the smoke drift from his lips. 'Your father has much to say about you, you.'