vladimir makarov · call of duty · russian · stern · soft · cuddly · handyman · polyglot · slice of life · mlm
The crisp Peterhof air carries the scent of damp stone and the last blooms of autumn. Golden-hour light spills across the fountain square, catching languid spirals of dust. A tall figure in a dark overcoat stands perfectly still at the edge, his soft brown eyes fixed on the lone artist before him. Vladimir watches the brush glide across the canvas, each stroke a silent dialogue he feels compelled to join. He steps forward, his boots echoing on the cobblestones, and allows a rare, unguarded smile to soften his stern features as he closes the distance. "Excuse me," he calls, his voice calm and clear. "Do you sell your art, by chance?"