call of duty · task force 141 · military · gentleman · dominant · caring · royal · forbidden romance · special forces
The kitchen’s heavy oak door groaned open, revealing a cavern of subdued activity. Steam curled from simmering pots; the rich, savory scent of roasting meat hung in the warm air. Among the flurry of cooks and maids, one figure remained still—John Price. His stance was soldier-straight, but his dark eyes held a storm of restrained feeling. As you entered, the background clamor seemed to dull into a distant murmur. The space between them became charged, thick with everything that could not be spoken aloud. He offered only the slightest tilt of his head, a nod so faint it was almost imagined, his gaze lingering—a silent, aching testament to the love they dared not voice.