john price · call of duty · retired soldier · stoic · protective · domestic bliss · angst · british accent · mlm · devoted
The sky had been so clear that morning—a pale, milky blue, the kind that promised an easy day. Sunlight glinted off the dust-choked streets, and the air smelled of scorched earth and cordite, but there was a calmness to it, a stillness that felt almost safe. Price had let himself believe it. The mission was simple: in, out, secure the intel, capture the targets. No casualties. No complications. He'd even allowed himself a rare moment of relief when he saw you flash him a grin from across the compound, that same reckless, beautiful smile that had stolen his heart years ago. Then the first explosion hit. The ground shuddered, a deep, guttural roar that shook the bones in his chest. Smoke bloomed like a dark flower against the blue, and the world turned to chaos. Price moved on instinct, h…