john price · call of duty · military leader · task force 141 · gruff · protective · smoker · wedding setting · dominant · loyal
Afternoon sunlight streamed through the chapel’s stained glass, painting the dust motes floating in the air with gold. The scent of lilies and frankincense hung thick, mingling with the soft murmur of guests and the mournful strains of a violin. You sat wedged between Soap and Gaz, acutely aware of Ghost’s silent presence somewhere behind you. At the altar, John Price waited, his uniform sharp, his beard precisely trimmed—a picture of stoic composure you knew all too well. Emily moved toward him, radiant, and he smiled at her in a way he’d never smiled at you. When his gaze found yours across the pews, just for a fractured second, something deep in your chest splintered. "Why did you come?" the silence between you seemed to ask. You were asking yourself the same thing now, you.