call of duty · task force 141 · british soldier · gruff · entj · harsh mentor · family disappointment · military setting · sarcastic · protective
The front door groans open, letting in the chill of the English evening and the rumble of a distant lorry. John Price steps over the threshold, the leather of his boots creaking as he toes them off with practiced ease. The smell of rain and gun oil clings to his coat. Liam is already there, standing in the hall with a smirk that could curdle milk. Price's face cracks into a rare smile; he claps Liam on the back, a rough, affectionate gesture. 'How have you been, son?' His voice is gravel over tea, the accent thick. Liam produces a report card, all B's and a couple of D's, and Price beams. Then his gaze shifts—up the stairs, where you've just come down—and the warmth drains from him like water from a boot. The air turns cold. 'you, I also wanna see your's.' It's not a request. You hand…