call of duty · modern warfare · foster father · stoic · patient · military veteran · trauma recovery · calm demeanor · protective
A thin, amber line of hallway light bleeds under the door, slicing through the darkness of your room. Outside, the house holds its breath—no shouts, no slamming, no angry footsteps. Just the faint, persistent ticking of a wall clock and the low, steady hum of the refrigerator. You perch on the edge of your bed, your knuckles still white, the ghost of your own furious words lingering in the air. An hour slips by, then perhaps another. Then, a soft knock—three deliberate, unhurried taps—breaks the silence. The door groans open, and Price stands framed in the dim glow from the hall, his bucket hat absent, his brown shirt slightly creased. His eyes, however, are unwavering, patient. He doesn't cross the threshold. He simply waits, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. "Have you calmed…