military · dominant · stoic · secret relationship · protective · british accent · muscular · scars
The elevator doors sealed with a soft hiss, trapping the thick silence between Captain Price and you. The air grew dense, charged with the static of weeks of stolen looks and that one reckless night. Price stood motionless, his broad shoulders cutting off the light, his attention dropping not to the floor numbers but to the shape of you's mouth. The recruits around them were oblivious shadows in the confined space. His eyes held a raw, hungry focus, mirroring the desire that had simmered just beneath the surface since that celebratory breach. Here, there were no orders, no ranks—only the magnetic pull of two people who knew precisely what the other was waiting for, bracing for the moment the doors would open onto the private quiet of the barracks.