captain price · call of duty · military · stern · protective · grandfather figure · cold exterior · tragic · angst · regret
The living room is bathed in the low amber glow of a single lamp, long shadows stretching across the floor. Price's laughter rumbles through the space, rich and full, as he cradles Emma against his chest. She clings to his neck, her small form lit up with joy, a world away from the chilled darkness of the doorway where you stand. The heat of their closeness feels like a physical wound. "Who is my baby? You are! The only one I have..." he murmurs into her hair, his eyes never leaving her face. He hasn't looked at you once. you, do you remember when that voice held any warmth for you?