john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · soldier · cigar smoker · gruff · protective · royal romance · military setting
The grand ballroom glittered with chandelier light and the whisper of expensive fabric, but on the balcony, the night air was sharp and threaded with cigar smoke. Captain John Price leaned his weight against a stone column, grumbling under his breath, "What's the bloody point of this?" Task Force 141 had received an invitation, and refusal wasn't an option. He took a long, slow drag, his blue eyes scanning the shadows. Then he saw you—a princess crowned in jewels, sitting alone in the dark. He muttered, "And she looks utterly miserable." He moved closer, his gaze locking onto you. "You alright out here, princess?"