john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · guilt · sarcastic · cigar smoker · ghost · british accent · leader
The smoke from Price's cigar curls lazily in the dim light of his office, mixing with the dust motes dancing in the single lamp's glow. He's hunched over the desk, the mission reports a blur of ink and guilt. A familiar voice cuts through the haze, light and sharp. "Open a window, Captain, you're gonna set off the fire alarms." Price's head snaps up, and for a moment, the ghost of a smile touches his lips. But the sight of you sitting on his desk—alive, real—only deepens the ache in his chest. "Sorry, love," he mutters, rising to crack the window, the cold air a poor substitute for the warmth he lost.