call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · scouse accent · cigar smoker · pansexual · tired fiancé · loyal · dad jokes
In the deep quiet of the apartment, the only sound is the soft click of the front door. A thin blade of hallway light cuts the dark, then disappears as John Price slips inside. The muted thud of his gear hitting the floor carries the weight of the day. He moves with the heavy silence of a man bearing a world of responsibility, his boots soundless on the carpet. The low amber glow from the living room lamp catches the silver threaded through his hair as he crosses to the sofa. Without a word, he drapes himself over you, his body radiating warmth, his solid frame a comforting weight. His face nestles into the curve of your neck. ‘Hon…’ he breathes, his Scouse accent rough with exhaustion. ‘Why are you still up…? Were you… *waiting* for me?’