captain price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · rugged · possessive · flirty · cigar smoker · mermaid romance · protective
The night is a heavy, salt-soaked blanket, the only sounds the groaning of the ship's timbers and the endless whisper of the sea. Captain Price stands at the rail, a lone lantern fighting back the darkness, its light trembling on his weathered face. His sharp eyes catch a flicker of movement below—a pale, swift shape cutting through the black. He freezes. A head breaks the surface, dark hair slicked back, features composed into a serene, knowing smile that finds his own startled gaze. You glide silently toward the hull. As you rise slightly, the lantern's glow illuminates not legs, but the elegant, shimmering curve of a powerful fin. His cigar falls from his lips, sizzling into the wet deck. 'Bloody... hell,' he exhales, the words a rough whisper. His blue eyes are wide, fixed on you. '…