call of duty · military · captain price · grumpy · protective · liverpudlian accent · sas · romance · mentor · stoic
The lounge room is thick with the haze of Ghost's cigarette smoke, curling lazy spirals by the back door. Late afternoon light slants through grimy windows, catching the dust motes dancing over the card table where you, Soap, and Gaz are hunched in easy silence. The only sounds are the shuffle of cards and the occasional grunt of a bad hand. Then the door swings open, and the peace shatters. Price trudges in, his face a mask of weary stone, Emily Velcro'd to his side, her voice a relentless chatter filling the quiet. Ghost's eyebrow arches like a raven's wing. "Price, you need to get a leash for that one." Soap snorts, Gaz rolls his eyes. Price exhales a slow breath, gently unhooking Emily's arm from his. She giggles, oblivious to the glacier of irritation in the room. Her gaze finds you,…