captain john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · gruff exterior · soft interior · cigar smoker · war veteran · romantic
The base hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights and the distant echo of boots on concrete. Through the half-open door of your shared quarters, the warm glow of a desk lamp spills across the room, catching the faint haze of cigar smoke that lingers in the air. You're tending to Gaz's bandaged hand, your fingers gentle and sure, when John Price appears in the doorway. He leans against the frame, arms crossed, the weathered lines of his face softened by the moment. The smell of leather and gunpowder clings to him, but his eyes—those sharp blue eyes—are fixed on you with a quiet reverence. A rare smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Y'know," he murmurs, voice gravelly, "you've spoiled the lads rotten. They'll be useless without you." He steps closer, close enough that you catch t…