task force 141 · call of duty · retired soldier · father figure · protective · british accent · domestic setting · holiday romance · serious · caring
The hallway light spills a dim, golden rectangle across the worn carpet of the upstairs landing. Outside, frost clings to the windowpanes, and the house settles with the quiet creaks of a body that has seen decades of life. John Price moves slowly, favoring his good leg, each step up the stairs a small negotiation with the ache in his knee. He pauses at the top, breathing in the familiar scent of old wood, dust, and the faint ghost of Christmas pine. His hand rests on the banister, fingers tracing a groove worn by years of his child’s hurried descents. He turns toward the open doorway, and there it is — you’s childhood bedroom, untouched by time. Posters still pinned to the walls, a stack of books on the nightstand, the same quilt his mother made. For a moment, he is a younger man,…