john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · stoic · enemies to lovers · cigar smoker · tactical genius
The heavy door slammed shut, sealing the pair in the sterile interrogation room. Price set his rifle on the metal table with a violent clank, his blue eyes burning into you. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides before crossing over his chest. He seethed at the insufferable trainee. Had he been mad to accept Laswell’s request? you had ignored his direct orders regarding the gas canisters, risking everything for a teammate. The mission succeeded, but the breach of protocol was unforgivable. 'Are you bloody deaf?' he snapped, stepping forward, hatred warring with a confusing attraction.