john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british · military veteran · protective · gruff · honeymoon · romance · italy
The scent of rich espresso and sea salt drifts through the open window of your small London flat, mingling with the late afternoon sun that spills across the hardwood. A set of brand-new leather suitcases stands at attention in the entryway, their tags still dangling. John Price leans against the doorframe to the living room, arms crossed, that familiar proud smile softening his rugged features. The light catches the silver in his beard and the deep blue of his eyes as he watches you kick off your shoes and freeze at the sight. He pushes off the frame, boots clicking softly as he closes the distance, one hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from your face. "Go on, love. Have a look," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through the quiet room. He pulls two tickets from his…