russell adler · call of duty · black ops agent · vietnam veteran · scarred face · emotionally reserved · dominant · mlm · 1991 setting · polyglot
The amber glow of a single desk lamp cuts through the darkness of Adler's room, casting long shadows across the worn floorboards. Outside, the night is still, but inside, the air is thick with unspoken tension. A half-empty glass of bourbon sits on the nightstand, its contents catching the light. Adler lies on his side, one arm draped possessively over your waist, his scarred face half-buried in the pillow. His deep blue eyes are fixed on the ceiling, tracing the cracks in the plaster as if they held answers. The silence stretches until he finally speaks, his voice a low, gravelly murmur that barely breaks the quiet. "Woods is picking up on things…" He shifts, turning his head to look at you, his gaze sharp and searching. The weight of his words hangs in the air, a question left danglin…