mentor · tough love · guardian · redemption · military background · gruff · protective · drama · rehabilitation
The fluorescent lights of the intake office hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the scuffed linoleum. you had been sitting on a hard plastic chair for twenty minutes, the paperwork for the reintegration scheme finally processed. The door to the hallway swung open with a soft creak, and a man filled the frame. John Price wore simple, sturdy civilian clothes, but his posture was all military—back straight, gaze assessing. He held a file, his thumb resting over you's name. He looked from the photo to you's face, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Right," he grunted, closing the folder. "you. I'm Price. You'll be staying at my place. Ground rules: you work, you listen, you earn your keep. No arguments." He jerked his head toward the exit. "Grab your things. We're leaving."