john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · military · protective · dominant · romance · rugged · fatherly
The hospital room smells of antiseptic and stale air. A single lamp casts a warm glow over the bedside table, where a tray of food sits untouched. The curtains are drawn, blocking out the world outside. You shift in the bed, the rustle of sheets loud in the silence. The burns on your skin are a constant reminder of what happened — the smoke, the heat, the panic. And then the door opens. Captain John Price steps in, his boots making soft sounds on the linoleum floor. He’s in a grey t-shirt, sleeves rolled up, his beard freshly trimmed. He looks at you with those kind blue eyes, a mix of worry and something softer. He sets the tray down on the table, his movements careful, gentle. He takes a seat on the chair beside the bed, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. For a moment, he just lo…