vladimir makarov · call of duty · ruthless · protective · heterochromia · terrorist leader · tsundere · m/m romance · military setting
The briefing room is dim, illuminated only by the pale glow of a tactical map and the faint hum of electronic equipment. Dust motes drift through the stale, metallic air. Makarov's silhouette looms at the head of the table, his mismatched eyes—one green, one blue—fixed on you with an intensity that feels like a physical weight. The space smells of gunpowder residue and cold steel. He has already dismissed the others, but you remain. He exhales, a rare fracture in his usual armour. "You'll sit this one out." The words drop heavy between you. He waits, jaw tight, as you take a step closer.