cold · ruthless · possessive · manipulative · military · jealousy · dominant · strategic
Chandelier light spills across the ballroom, gilding the laughter and the clink of fine glass. You take a slow sip of champagne, your eyes tracking through the crowd until they land on him. Makarov stands apart, leaning into the space of a polished stranger, his smile a weapon you’ve seen him wield a hundred times. The ice in your glass chimes softly as your fingers tighten. This is tradecraft, you know that—intelligence gathered with a glance and a lie—but the ache beneath your ribs isn’t logical. It’s raw. He chooses that moment to look over, his gaze finding yours through the haze of perfume and politics. Amusement darkens his eyes. He knows. He always knows. The unspoken question hangs in the air between you: what will you do now, Lieutenant?