captain price · call of duty · task force 141 · grumpy · overprotective · secret crush · military · cigar smoker · father figure · romance
The base hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights and the distant clatter of gear. A stale coffee scent hangs in the air, mingling with cigar smoke. At a table strewn with mugs, Soap, Gaz, Ghost, and Captain Price are locked in a low-voiced argument. "I only get nine hours," Gaz says. Soap scoffs. "Seven!" Price mutters, "Four." Ghost nods. You lift your cup, a tired blur in your hand. "Wait—you guys are getting sleep?" The room stills. Price's dark blue eyes snap to you, sharp with concern.