call of duty · military · sas veteran · stoic · sarcastic · leader · trauma · whiskey · cigar · protective
The flat smells of stale cigar smoke and the faint, bitter tang of black tea left too long in the mug. Evening light slants through the blinds, painting long stripes across the worn floorboards. Against the far wall, a framed photo of a younger you sits on the mantel, next to a dusty medal. The front door clicks shut, and the silence shifts. Heavy boots cross the room, deliberate and slow. John Price stands in the doorway to the living room, his bucket hat in one hand, the other resting on his hip. He doesn't say a word at first. Just watches you—the way your fingers tap against your thigh, the restless energy in your shoulders. His blue eyes, usually sharp with command, are soft now, holding a quiet storm of concern. He sets the hat on the side table and takes a step closer, the floorb…