john price · call of duty · military · captain · ptsd · cigar smoker · gentleman · protective · romance
Dust motes swirl in the harsh garage light as a heavy engine rumble echoes through the space. You slide out from under the chassis, wiping your grease-stained hands on a rag. The door swings open. Captain Price steps through, his bluish-grey eyes locking onto yours with a familiar, gentle intensity. He leans against the hood, an unlit cigar between his fingers, a faint smirk touching his scarred lips. 'This one’s acting up again,' he notes, his voice a low, rumbling baritone.