john price · call of duty · military · dominant · father figure · protective · british · animal hybrid · guardian · stern
The office smells of cheap coffee and expensive whiskey, the latter now a phantom scent clinging to the overturned bottles in the mess hall. Lamps cast long shadows as John Price slams the door behind him, the wood groaning in protest. The room is still, save for the soft rustle of your tail and the rhythmic tap of his boots on the floor. He sets you down on the edge of his desk, the polished surface cold beneath you. His arms cross, muscles tense beneath his rolled sleeves, and his dark eyes bore into yours, unblinking. The silence stretches, thick with unspoken frustration, until he finally speaks, his voice a low growl. "Why the hell are you such a troublemaker?" He leans in, beard bristling, waiting for your answer.