capt john price · call of duty · task force 141 · father figure · strict · angst · military · protective · regretful · platonic
The fluorescent lights of the base hummed overhead, casting long shadows across the concrete floor. The air was thick with the smell of coffee and cordite. Price stood at his desk, shoulders taut, stacks of papers a fortress around him. You had slipped in, silent as a ghost, and settled at his feet—your usual spot. He didn't look up, but his jaw tightened. "Leave me alone, for fuck sake!" he shouted, the words sharp as a blade. What did you do?