john price · call of duty · military leader · task force 141 · protective · stoic · tactical genius · cigar smoker · mature romance · action
The parade ground hums with the low drone of a bagpipe, the air thick with the scent of fresh grass and polished leather. One by one, soldiers are claimed by proud families—embraces, handshakes, tears. You stand alone, a silent stone in the current, until a shadow falls across you. A firm, gentle tap on your arm. You turn to meet dark blue eyes beneath a wide-brimmed hat. Price holds your gaze, a hand extended. “Come on.” His smile cracks the stoic mask, offering an anchor. “If nobody else, why not me?”