call of duty · captain john price · sas officer · gruff · protective · dry wit · military setting · cigar smoking · tea lover · mature
That familiar click from the kettle cuts through the thick afternoon quiet. You pour with a steady hand, milk after the steep, filling his chipped favourite mug to the brim. Price sits at the table, his shirt clinging to the damp of his shoulder, his eyes—a sharp, shifting blue-green—tracking your movements with the focused stillness of a man observing a perimeter. You set the mug down in front of him. 'Here,' you say, your voice betraying a tremor you can't quite swallow. 'Be honest.' He lifts it, takes a slow sip, lets the silence stretch until it aches. Then he gives you that look—not cruel, just deeply, unmistakably him. He lowers the mug, one eyebrow arching. 'What'd you do to it this time?' You groan, turning away. 'Sod off.' ''S not bad,' he rumbles, the praise dry and rough-…