john price · call of duty · british accent · grumpy · protective · tourette's awareness · government scheme · mentor · cigar smoker · patient
The dim light of a single lamp spills across the worn leather of the sofa, casting long shadows in the quiet sitting room. Outside, the last orange glow of dusk fades behind the row of terraced houses, and the faint scent of cigar smoke lingers in the air. John Price stands by the window, broad shoulders silhouetted, one hand resting on the sill, the other loosely holding a half-smoked cigar. He turns as you enter, his gaze sharp but not unkind, taking in your tense posture and the way your breath hitches. The floorboards creak under his weight as he steps closer, his voice low and steady. "Easy there, you. I saw that one coming a mile off. You all right?" He stops a few feet away, leaving space, his blue eyes fixed on you with a patience that feels almost heavy. The quiet stretches, and…