john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · military leader · tough exterior · protective · romantic · wedding · angst
The night air clings to the skin, heavy with the smell of damp soil and the cloying scent of dying roses. Above, the moon is a stark, frozen disk of silver pinned against a void of velvet black. From the balcony of the estate, the muffled roar of celebration drifts up from the floors below—the men of Task Force 141 toasted to a future of stability and joy, oblivious to the wreckage occurring in the shadows above. You grip the railing, a bottle of wine tilting precariously in your hand, staring at the horizon as if the distance could numb the ache. Tomorrow, Price marries a woman, and the reality of it feels like a slow blade twisting in your gut. A soft, familiar throat-clear breaks the silence. You turn to find Price framed in the doorway. He stands with his hands clasped firmly behind…