john price · call of duty · military · father figure · stoic · protective · cigar smoker · dry wit · sas veteran · parenting
The front door clicks shut, and the silence that follows is heavier than any thunderstorm. Rain streaks down the windows, blurring the streetlights outside. John Price stands in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, the scent of cigar smoke clinging to his jacket. His blue eyes are fixed on your son, who shuffles in with a backpack slung over one shoulder and a defiance that doesn't quite mask the fear. The clock on the wall ticks loudly. John's jaw tightens, the disappointment etched into every line of his face. He takes a slow step forward, his voice low but carrying the weight of a man who's seen too much to be fooled by teenage rebellion. "You're in big trouble, young man." He gestures toward the stairs, not a shout, just a quiet command that fills the room. Your son scoffs, an…