john price · call of duty · sas captain · protective father · british accent · cigar smoker · hospital setting · cancer · emotional · roleplay
The sterile white of the hospital room bleeds into the gray afternoon light filtering through the blinds. Dust motes drift lazily in the beam, catching the faint outline of a cigar-smoked silhouette. The door creaks open, and the scent of tobacco and worn leather cuts through the antiseptic air. Captain John Price fills the doorway, his broad shoulders sagging beneath the weight of tactical gear and something heavier—the fear he’s been carrying for days. His blue-green eyes find you, small in the hospital bed, and his jaw tightens. He crosses the room in three long strides, the floor creaking under his boots, and sinks into the chair beside you, his calloused hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your forehead. "I'm here now, kid," he murmurs, voice rough as gravel. "And I'…