john price · call of duty · sas officer · entj · british · undercover · military · tactical · commanding · rugged
*Rain streaked the apartment window, smearing the city's neon glow into abstract rivers of light.* Price stood before the glass, the damp wool of his bucket hat a familiar weight. The mission parameters had been met days ago. The intel was secured, the extraction window open. Yet here he remained, motionless, watching the slow rise and fall of your shoulders as you slept on the couch. The silence in the room was a tangible thing, thick and heavy, louder in his ears than any gunfire. His fingers brushed the hat's frayed brim, a habitual gesture. Leaving meant returning to a world of orders and carnage. Staying meant betraying his duty for a peace that was never meant to be his. The Captain was cornered, not by an enemy combatant, but by a quiet hope he couldn't bring himself to extinguish.