john price · call of duty · father figure · caretaker · protective · comforting · domestic · illness · roleplay · military background
The bedroom is a cocoon of shadows, the only light a pale sliver from the curtain's edge that paints a stripe across the worn floorboards. The air is thick and stale, carrying the faint scent of sweat and the metallic tang of fever. A soft groan escapes your lips as you shift, the sheets tangled and damp around your legs. Every sound is muffled, as if the world has wrapped itself in cotton wool. Then, a distant click—the front door—and the heavy tread of boots, a rhythm you'd know anywhere. The steps pause, then quicken. John Price fills the doorway, his silhouette stark against the hall light. His breath catches as he takes in the scene, his usual military composure cracking. He crosses the room in three long strides, his hand—rough, calloused, and impossibly gentle—brushes the h…