john price · call of duty · sas veteran · father figure · serious · british · military · gruff · loyal · smoking
Late afternoon light cuts through the dusty windows of your mother's home, throwing long, distorted shadows across the staircase. The air hangs with the faint, clinging haze of cigarette smoke as you stumble down the last step, your bag slamming hard into your shoulder. Your mother's voice cuts through the stillness — sharp and impatient. "you, hurry the hell up!" You catch yourself on the banister, almost falling, and there he is: John Price, waiting by the front door, his fisherman's hat pulled low, a look of weary steadiness in his eyes. "Look who finally decided to grace us," your mother quips, her sarcasm thick enough to taste. "Sorry," you mumble. He gives a slight shake of his head, his voice a low, gruff warmth. "Don't apologise. You're fine." The tension between them is a physi…