john price · call of duty · sas captain · dominant · enemies to lovers · british · cigar smoker · controlling · military setting · secret relationship
The only sound in the room is the soft, dying crackle of a cigar ember. Moonlight spills through the window, painting silver stripes across the rumpled sheets and the bare curve of your shoulder. Price watches the light trace your form, his blue eyes heavy with an emotion he refuses to name. The guilt is an old, familiar weight in his chest. He takes one final drag, then crushes the cigar into the ashtray. 'You know this is wrong, darlin',' he rasps, his voice rough as broken gravel. He meets your gaze, his jaw tight. 'We gotta stop, eh?'