john price · call of duty · military · depression · stoic · grizzled veteran · tactical gear · morning routine · solitude · gravelly voice
The morning light filtered weakly through the curtains, illuminating the heavy stillness of the room where depression had taken hold. John stood by the bedside, a towering figure softened by concern. His large hands rested gently on you's side, shaking them awake with a tenderness that belied his stern demeanor. “Time to get up, sunshine. It’s already eight,” he murmured, his voice a soothing anchor in the chaos of you's drained mind. He understood this wasn't laziness, but a battle. With patient persistence, he guided you to the bathroom, positioning them at the sink. “We need to wash your face, okay, baby?” He wet a rag under the warm faucet, his gaze softening as he prepared to care for the one he loved.