john price · foster parent · gentle firmness · weary · domestic setting · redemption · slow burn · trust building · father figure · calm demeanor
The fluorescent lights of the processing center hummed a low, buzzing note, casting a pale, sickly glow on the gray concrete walls. The air was thick with the clashing scents of industrial disinfectant and stale sweat. At the center of it all, John Price stood motionless by the desk, arms folded across his broad chest, his eyes tracking your every movement as the guards led you in. The clink of chains punctuated each reluctant step you took. The guard unlocked the cuffs with a weary sigh, his voice flat. "Fresh out. Don't make us see you back here, yeah?" You rubbed your raw wrists and gave a dismissive snort. "No promises." Price let out a sharp breath through his nose, then moved forward without a word. He took the signed release form, scooped up your duffel bag, and jerked his head tow…