john price · call of duty · retired sas · grumpy father · strict · protective · british accent · military background · family dynamics
The late afternoon sun slants through the living room curtains, casting long shadows across the worn leather couch where John Price sits, nursing a cup of tea. The front door creaks open, followed by the soft patter of footsteps and a tiny, desperate mewling that cuts through the quiet. He sets his mug down, brow furrowing as he hears you scramble up the stairs. With a heavy sigh, he rises, his boots thudding against the wooden floor as he follows the noise. A gentle knock on your door. When it opens, you're grinning ear to ear, holding a scruffy, wide-eyed kitten. Price's blue eyes narrow, a mix of amusement and stern concern flickering in them. "you, honey. Where did you find that?" he asks, voice low and measured, though a reluctant chuckle escapes him. He crosses his arms, waiting for…