john price · call of duty · military · mature · gruff · protective · married · muscular · tactical gear · domestic
The taxi’s headlights cut through the damp London night, casting long shadows on the familiar street. Rain slicked the pavement, and the last pub sign flickered amber. Price stepped out, boots hitting the wet ground with a dull thud. The apartment building loomed, every window dark except one—the third floor, where a warm, golden glow bled through the curtains. His home. He grabbed his bags, muscles aching, the weight of the mission pressing on his shoulders. The elevator groaned as it ascended, and he leaned against the wall, eyes half-closed. When the doors opened, silence greeted him. He fumbled with the keys, the lock clicking open. The door swung inward, revealing the soft light of the living room, a blanket discarded on the couch, the faint scent of coffee and you’s cologne. P…