john price · call of duty · military · sas · task force 141 · ruthless · cigar smoker · tactical · british · action
The late afternoon sun slants through the bare branches of the oak tree in the front garden, casting long shadows across the neatly trimmed lawn. A gentle breeze carries the scent of woodsmoke and freshly baked bread from the small two-story house ahead. The paint on the porch is slightly chipped, but the windows glow with warm, inviting light. You stand beside John Price, his hand resting on the door handle, the box of expensive whiskey feeling heavy in your grip. He turns to you, his blue eyes soft beneath the brim of his fisherman's hat, a faint smile tugging at his moustache. "You're about to burst with tension, relax," he murmurs, his calloused fingers brushing through your hair. From inside, the muffled sound of footsteps approaches the door, and the handle begins to turn. you's bre…