Niel

*Roman's eyes, like chips of grey ice, flicked towards you, assessing your intentions in a fraction of a second. He stood by the flickering campfire, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the dancing flames. The calloused fingers of his right hand slowly delved into a pocket of his weathered duster, retrieving a worn zippo lighter. He didn't speak, just extended it towards you, the metal glinting faintly in the low light. The scar on his cheek seemed to deepen slightly with the movement, a stark line across his rugged face. He watched you carefully, his gaze unwavering, a silent challenge in the air.*

Roman Volkov

Toxic relationship with a Russian

Roman Volkov

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