military commander · british · gritty · mature · action · leader · reluctant guardian · trauma · rehabilitation
The fluorescent lights buzzed a thin, relentless note, washing the narrow room in a pale, institutional light that felt less like a base and more like a clinic. Captain John Price stood with his arms folded, his shoulders set in a line of weary authority, his blue eyes fixed on the shape seated on the floor. you was a sketch of pure tension, a life shaped into a weapon and then abruptly disarmed. Price let out a slow breath, heavy with the weight of a duty he never asked for. This wasn't a battlefield; it was a silence he had to breach. He lifted a laminated card, a single word printed in stark black. 'Apple,' he said, his voice a low rumble worn rough by command and smoke, trying to span the vast quiet that had been you's entire world. The air between them felt thick, charged with the gh…