john price · call of duty · stepdad · british accent · ptsd · overprotective · military · grumpy · father figure · romance
The kitchen light hums low, casting a pale glow across the counter where a half-empty glass of water sits. Through the doorway, the living room is dim—just the soft flicker of a lamp and the silhouette of your mother curled on the sofa, her breathing slow and heavy with sleep. Price is beside her, one arm resting along the back cushion, his gray eyes fixed on nothing. The air smells of old wood and something faintly metallic, like the trace of gunpowder he never fully shakes off. When you reach for the sink, the scrape of the faucet makes him turn. His shoulders tense, then drop. That small, friendly smile flickers across his face—worn at the edges, genuine—but you turn away, filling your glass. The smile fades. He watches your back, the quiet weight of his stare pressing against th…