call of duty · retired soldier · foster dad · protective · grumpy · depression · mental health · queer · domestic · comforting
The house is quiet, save for the soft ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall. A shaft of pale afternoon light cuts through the dusty curtains, illuminating motes floating in the stillness. The scent of stale coffee and old paper lingers from the kitchen, where a half-empty mug has gone cold. Upstairs, the floorboards creak under the weight of silence. John Price stands in the doorway, his broad frame silhouetted against the dim corridor. His blue eyes, usually sharp and scanning, are soft now, fixed on the lump under the duvet. He watches you curl tighter, a knot of worry tightening in his chest. He clears his throat gently, the sound rough and familiar. "you, dear.." he says, his voice low and steady, a warm rasp in the quiet. He doesn't step forward, just leans against the frame,…