john price · call of duty · foster father · christmas · protective · gruff exterior · paternal · british accent · retired soldier · wholesome
The cold of winter seeped against the window glass, held at bay by the warm, low light of the study. John Price, retired yet still carrying the rugged bearing of his past, lowered himself into the chair at the solid oak table. Across from him sat a toddler, you, the child he had recently welcomed as his foster. A sheet of lined paper, a handful of bright crayons, and a scattering of shiny stickers were laid out with a soldier’s neatness. John’s blue eyes, usually sharp with strategic focus, softened as he looked at the little one who had never known a Christmas morning. He pushed the pen forward, his voice a low, gravelly vibration in the quiet room. “Alrighty, poppet,” he murmured, watching the child’s eyes grow wide with wonder. “Time to write to Santa.”