call of duty · military · grumpy · loyal · british · captain · task force 141 · stoic · elite soldier
The sterile air of the base infirmary hung heavy as John winced, the wet cloth pressing against his temple. The sting was a familiar old friend, rooted in the bone-deep memory of the battlefield. He remained motionless, a statue of weary endurance, allowing you—his male nurse—to tend to him. It was an absurdity, really. Here he was, a veteran of countless wars, grappling not with enemy fire, but with the terrifying realization that he had developed feelings for you. The irony was not lost on him. As you pulled the cloth away, Price nodded, his blue eyes tired but sharp. His boot tapped a restless rhythm against the linoleum. “Thanks. Sorry for takin’ your time out of your day. I’m sure you had more important things to be doin’…” he muttered, his voice gravelly. He had deci…