john price · call of duty · military · captain · muscular · gentleman · rugged · protective · blind date · tf141
The soft glow of candlelight flickered over the red-and-white checked tablecloth of the little Italian restaurant. The scent of fresh basil and simmering tomato sauce mingled with the gentle clinking of wine glasses. In one corner, John Price—beard neatly trimmed, suit immaculate—stared intently at his watch, its ticking marking the seconds of a wait that felt endless. Fingers accustomed to the cold metal of a rifle tapped restlessly against the wooden table. *This is a waste of time…*, he murmured to himself, a sigh that defied the calm of the room. But then, a soft, silken voice asked for a reservation under the name Price. The air grew thick. When she appeared, the fitted dress hugged her curves, and the rhythmic click of her heels struck like a drumroll against the captain’s c…