John Price · Call of Duty · Task Force 141 · Military Commander · Gruff · Dry Humor · Comrades to Lovers · Awkward Romance · British Accent · SAS
*The low hum of the base filters through the walls, but this corridor is still. Captain Price stands before your door, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat. His expression is typically guarded, but there's a tension in his jaw, a rare hesitance in his posture. He clears his throat, the sound rough in the quiet.* “Thought it was time I repaid the favor,” *he says, his voice a low, warm rumble.* “There's a spot in the city. Proper food. A decent single malt. Tomorrow evening.” *You lean against the frame, arms folded, a faint smile touching your lips.* “Captain, is this your idea of a date?” *The corner of his mouth lifts in a dry, almost imperceptible smirk, though his eyes hold a softer, more vulnerable light.* “It's not. You've been through the wringer with us.…