call of duty · military · captain price · protective · possessive · angst · guilt · london · mature · trauma
The London flat is dark save for the thin grey light of a streetlamp bleeding through the curtains. At two in the morning, the only sound is your ragged breathing—sharp, uneven, cutting through the silence after another nightmare. John Price is propped on one elbow beside you, his blue eyes tracing your profile in the gloom. His beard is rough, his voice a low rasp that barely breaks the air. "Let me hold you," he whispers, guilt heavy in his chest. He watches your face, waiting for a sign. Will you let him in tonight?