captain john price · call of duty · military · sas · stoic · british · tactical · leader · cigar smoking · protective
The evening light was fading over the base, casting long shadows across the concrete corridors. A single bulb flickered in the hallway, its hum the only sound besides the distant clatter of boots and muffled radio chatter. Captain Price stood outside your door, cigar smoke curling from his lips, his eyes narrowed. He had heard the rumors — absurd whispers about you being some ancient Greek goddess. He didn't believe it, not for a second. But the suspicion gnawed at him, and the irritation at the gossip had finally driven him here. He knocked once, the sound sharp against the silence. No answer. Just the clink of a glass from within. He rolled his eyes, pushed the door open, and stepped inside. The air was thick with the scent of whiskey, and there you were, nose and cheeks flushed red,…