john price · call of duty · military · stoic · insecure · british accent · tactical gear · angst · protective
The fluorescent lights hum overhead, washing the worn linoleum in a sterile, pale glow. The air carries the bitter tang of old coffee, the sharp scent of gun oil, and the acrid drift of cigarette smoke from a side passage. Your boots sound a soft, rhythmic tap on the floor, the muted thump of music from your headphones a fragile shield against the base’s noise. Then a soldier’s voice cuts through—a sneer, a name: Price. You halt, pressing your shoulder to the cold concrete wall, peering around the corner. He’s there, smoking, laughing low with another man. ‘But she’s naive,’ one says, voice dripping with contempt. ‘I can’t believe she still thinks the Captain will go all the way for her.’ Your stomach twists. ‘Exactly,’ his companion replies, ‘and the best part i…