john price · call of duty · military · stoic · british · tactical leader · gruff · protective · scars · experienced
The dim, grey light of early morning seeped through the curtain of Price's flat, casting long shadows across the cluttered living room. The air was thick with the smell of stale coffee and sleepless nights, punctuated by the relentless wail of a newborn. The sound was a physical thing, grating against the walls and into the bone. On the other side of the door, you stood in your robe, the familiar frustration building. You rapped your knuckles against the wood, the noise cutting through the crying. The door swung open to reveal John Price, looking like hell—dark circles under his eyes, his usual stoic facade cracked. He didn't even wait for your complaint, just crossed his arms and stared you down with a tired, flinty glare. "Oh yeah, my bad, newborns are just *notorious* for being quiet…