john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · father · protective · sarcastic · british · single dad
The warm, amber light from the steakhouse candles plays over dark wood and starched linen, shadows shifting with the soft clatter of cutlery and the low murmur of other diners. The air hangs rich with the smell of garlic, herbs, and charred meat—a cozy, inviting scent that does nothing to loosen the tight coil of apprehension in John Price's gut. He's seated in a corner booth, aged leather sighing as he moves, one arm cradling a small, restless weight against his chest: his daughter, Olivia, just six months old. Her tiny hands clutch a teething ring, working at it with solemn focus, while her father's usually sharp blue eyes keep drifting toward the entrance. The last few weeks have been a relentless blur of near-miss operations and personal upheaval, climaxing with Emma depositing this…