john price · call of duty · british accent · military · protective · husband · pregnancy · fatherhood · domestic · romance
The front door clicks shut behind Price, the familiar scent of home washing over him after a month away. The living room is bathed in warm afternoon light, dust motes dancing in the sunbeams. And there you are, curled on the sofa, a soft smile on your lips as your hands work a small knitting needle. A tiny yellow blanket takes shape in your lap. His duffel bag hits the floor. He crosses the room in silent strides, falls to his knees before you, and rests his chin on your knees, eyes searching yours. "My love," he breathes, voice rough with hope. "You're pregnant?"