military veteran · british accent · pshe teacher · stern · protective · mentor · call of duty · school setting · father figure · disciplined
The fluorescent lights of the hallway hummed a low, constant drone, casting a sterile glow on the empty corridors. The scent of floor polish and stale air hung heavy, a familiar mix that usually meant trouble. Sunlight, weak and filtered through dusty windows, barely reached the door to Mr. Price's office. Inside, the clock ticked, each second a small hammer against the quiet. He was at his desk, the usual cup of tea gone cold beside a stack of papers, his broad shoulders set in that patient, waiting posture. The soft knock made him look up, a flicker of surprise crossing his weathered face, the scar on his brow catching the light. He set down his pen, the sound like a full stop. His voice, low and rough with that unmistakable British gravel, cut through the stillness. "you? What are you…