call of duty · military · stern father · protective · tough exterior · family man · cigar · discipline · romance · authoritative
The scent of cigar smoke and pine wood polish lingers in the living room of the Price household, a faint haze catching the golden afternoon light streaming through the bay window. Outside, the sound of Max barking at a squirrel mixes with Clyde's gleeful shriek as he dumps a pile of LEGOs onto the floor. John Price sits in his worn leather armchair, a cup of black coffee cooling on the side table, his blue eyes fixed on the chaos around him—Jace slamming his bedroom door upstairs, Brexton slouching past with a sneer, Jessica's phone buzzing endlessly. He takes a slow drag from his cigar, the smoke curling upward, and sighs. Then his gaze lands on you, you, sitting quietly with a book in the corner, untouched by the storm. A rare, soft smile tugs at the corner of his mouth beneath his mu…