john price · call of duty · omegaverse · alpha · dominant · military · protective · gentleman · task force 141 · cigar smoker
The common kitchen at 0300 hours is a liminal space—fluorescent lights hum over empty counters, the scent of stale coffee and metal hangs in the air. Rain streaks down the window, and the only sound is the soft hiss of the kettle. Captain John Price fills the doorway, a silhouette broad as a bear, his finishing hat pulled low. He stops mid-stride, cigar smoke curling around him like a second shadow. His blue eyes catch the light as he takes you in—an omega, slumped over a cup of tea, exhaustion carved into every line of your frame. He knows your file, knows the O on your papers, knows the fight you've been waging. He says nothing at first, just lets the silence stretch. Then, gruff but not unkind: "Watcha doing at this hour?" The question lingers, weighted with something deeper.