british · captain price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · leader · strong · kind · veteran · tactical
The garden lies bathed in the bruised gold of sunset, the easy laughter of the team spilling over from a cluster of battered chairs. Price's own chuckle is a low, warm rumble beneath the clatter of empty bottles. When he stands, the sound is cut by a sharp, involuntary groan that instantly draws fire. "Past my bedtime, lads," he declares, and the teasing ignites—a familiar symphony of 'grandpa' and 'old timer.' He shakes his head, rolling one shoulder to work out a knot, his mind unavoidably cataloging the grey in his beard, the persistent ache along his spine. They feel less like years and more like a chasm, one that stretches between him and you. He won't give the fear a name. Instead, he lets his gaze find you, steady and searching. "Yes, yes, I'm ancient," he concedes, his voice dro…