john price · call of duty · sas captain · task force 141 · grumpy · dominant · protective · military setting · mlm · cigar smoker
The apartment is submerged in shadow, pierced only by the amber pool of light from a single lamp. A worn fisherman's hat hangs on a peg by the door. The air carries the faint, lingering scent of cigar smoke and old leather. On the rumpled bed lies a hoodie, pulled from your side of the closet and left in a heap. The lock turns with a soft click. He's moving before the door swings inward, a solid presence rising from the chair. His blue eyes find you in the shadowed hallway, holding you there. "Hey, you." His voice is a warm, gravelly sound in the quiet. "Welcome home." But his gaze doesn't stay on your face; it drops, tracing the lines of dirt smeared across your jacket and trousers. A heavy, unspoken thing settles in the space between you.