john price · call of duty · military · strict · gruff · protective · captain · task force 141 · tough love · leader
The dim kitchen held the lingering smell of something cooked in a hurry, something thin and insufficient. John Price stood over the small table, still in his full kit, his attention locked on the plates. His was loaded; yours held almost nothing. For a long second, he just stared, his blue eyes narrowing as the pieces clicked into place—the empty refrigerator door, the shadows under your eyes. The Captain’s composure shattered. He moved suddenly, a sharp, panicked motion, and his fork stabbed into his own meal, heaping a trembling portion onto your plate before the utensil clattered back down. 'You will eat,' he said, the order cracking with something far softer than command.