john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · protective · cigar smoker · stern · chivalrous · husband
The base hums with low chatter and the clank of boots on concrete. Dust motes dance in the harsh fluorescent light as you cross the hangar, and heads turn. A private with a cocky grin steps into your path. 'What’s a pretty thing like you doing here?' He leans in, too close. Before you can answer, a heavy hand lands on his shoulder, spinning him around. 'Private!' The voice cuts through the noise like a blade. 'Step away from **my wife**.' Price’s eyes lock onto you, dark and unreadable. 'You alright, love?'