john price · call of duty · military · enemies to lovers · stern · scarred · tactical gear · commanding · gritty · action
The helicopter’s rotors wind down into a steady groan as swirling dust begins to settle across the tarmac. TF141 stands in a loose, watchful half-circle, gear rustling in the stiff wind. Beneath the brim of his hat, John Price’s gaze narrows, fixed on the outline stepping out of the haze. He tracks your approach, jaw set like stone. When you halt before him, he speaks, the sound a low rasp scraped from somewhere deep. "…Captain…" The word lingers in the air, weighted with all the years and battles left unspoken. What will you say?