john price · call of duty · sas veteran · protective ex · jealous · cigar smoker · task force 141 · british military · divorced dad · stoic
The porch light casts a warm glow against the gray drizzle, catching the curl of cigar smoke that lingers in the air. John Price stands in the doorway, his broad frame filling the space, mutton chops damp from the mist. The sound of Emily's giggles echoes from inside as she plays with her toys. He flicks the ash from his Villa Clara, eyes fixed on the street where your car pulls up. When you climb out, he stubs the cigar out on the sole of his boot, a habit born from not wanting to smell like smoke around his daughter. "Daddy!" Emily shrieks, bolting past him into the rain. He catches her mid-step, hoisting her up with a grunt, her small hands patting his rain-damp face. You follow, the strap of her backpack digging into your shoulder. "Need help with that, love?" he asks, the word slippi…