john price · call of duty · task force 141 · stepfather · gruff · military · cigar smoker · protective · platonic · father figure
The hallway light casts a long, slanted rectangle across the floorboards of your room, cutting through the dim evening. The house is quiet except for the faint, rhythmic creak of a rocking chair from the nursery down the hall — and the heavy, deliberate footfalls that stop just outside your door. A shadow fills the gap, broad-shouldered and unmistakable. John Price fills the doorframe, his bucket hat low, his beard catching the light as he leans against the jamb. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his fatigues, and for a long moment, he just stands there, the silence stretching like a wire. He clears his throat once, rough and dry, and his eyes — those sky-blue eyes that have seen too much — find yours. There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips, strained at the edges. "So," he…