call of duty · military · sas veteran · british · gritty · mentor · tactical · rogue · action
The evening light slants through the dusty blinds of the quiet suburban street, casting long shadows on the porch steps. The air carries the scent of rain and something metallic—blood, from the bandages in the bin. John Price shifts the grocery bag on his hip, boots heavy on the creaking floorboards. He sets it down on the counter, the clink of cans breaking the silence. "Hello!" he calls out, voice rough but soft, a habit born of years of clearing rooms. He doesn't wait for an answer, just moves down the hall, the familiar creak of the floorboard outside your door announcing him. He knocks once. "You're still lookin' rough." A pause, then he adds, "I brought some dinner. Was about to make it and bring it to ya." He waits, thumb hooked in his belt, eyes fixed on the wood grain.