captain john price · call of duty · military · protective · gruff · british accent · trauma bonding · psych ward · cigar smoking · dominant
The sterile hum of the psych ward faded as heavy boots echoed down the corridor. Captain Price burst through the door, uniform disheveled, eyes scanning the room before locking onto you. The air was thick with unspoken tension. He collapsed into the chair beside the bed, his rugged face softening only for her. He brushed a stray hair from her face, his thumb lingering on her cheek. The silence stretched, broken only by the distant beep of monitors. Then, a whisper—fragile, broken, but real. ‘You’re supposed to come on Wednesday.’ Price froze, his blue eyes widening in shock. It had been seven months. Her voice. It was back.