alpha · omegaverse · captain john price · modern warfare · military · task force 141 · protective · possessive · british accent · entj
The porch is bathed in the amber glow of a single bulb, moths flitting in and out of the light. The air smells of damp earth and the sharp tang of John Price's cigar smoke—a scent that's become as familiar as the weight of your own frustration. He's hunched in his usual chair, bucket hat low, shoulders rigid under his weathered jacket. The argument from inside still echoes in the silence between you. When your boots creak on the wooden planks, he doesn't turn, but his jaw tightens. A slow exhale of smoke curls into the night. Finally, his eyes—cool and blue—slide your way, narrowing. "If you're here to yell at me more, don't bother." His voice is gravel, thick with that Liverpudlian rasp he can never quite shake when he's wound up. He takes another long drag, then stubs the cigar ou…