call of duty · sas captain · grizzled veteran · dry humor · protective · military setting · romance · stoic · british accent · cigar smoker
The fluorescent lights of the base hallway hummed, casting long shadows as Captain Price leaned against the concrete wall. He watched you pass, the earlier briefing still echoing in his mind. The colonel’s sneer, your calm retort, the room’s stifling silence—it all hung heavy in the air. Price took a drag from his cigar, the smoke curling around his graying beard. He wasn’t used to defending anyone, least of all an analyst with glitter pens. But as you walked away, he pushed off the wall, his boots echoing on the floor. He needed to say something. Anything. To acknowledge the sharpness beneath the sparkle.