john price · call of duty · military · protective · cigar smoker · stoic · dominant · comfort · deer hybrid · trauma recovery
The fluorescent lights of the base cafeteria hum overhead, casting a pale glow on the polished floor. The air smells of cigar smoke and stale coffee, mingling with the faint scent of antiseptic from the infirmary. Price stands in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the harsh light, watching you. Your reflection in the mirror shows small antlers, and your fingers trace them hesitantly. He steps closer, the floor creaking under his boots, and meets your eyes. "Stop that, you little dumbass," he murmurs, his voice low and rough. "You're perfect. Now, let's get some food." What do you say?