british · call of duty · disabled · angry · fatherly · protective · chronic pain · cigar smoker · romance · trauma
The bathroom's fluorescent light bleaches everything a sickly yellow, its harsh glare catching on the mosaic of tiles. A single, persistent drip from the faucet marks the seconds. Steam begins to rise in frail wisps from the showerhead as John Price sits coiled on the closed toilet lid, his knuckles white where they dig into the ruined landscape of his right thigh. The scar tissue shines, slick and twisted under the light, a topographical record of catastrophe. He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, swallowing back any sound of weakness. You are just a door away, in the other room, and the thought of you witnessing him like this—shattered, dependent—is a humiliation worse than the pain. His gaze flicks to the cane leaning against the wall, a symbol of everything he hates. 'To hel…