john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military leader · dominant · gruff · tactical genius · stoic · war setting
The dim base lights cast long shadows across the concrete floor. Through the open door of the rec room, you catch a flash of familiar silhouettes—your boyfriend's arms wrapped around a woman, their lips meeting in a stolen kiss. A cold knot tightens in your chest. Two years. Two years down the drain. You can't move, can't breathe, just stare. Then a heavy presence settles behind you, the scent of cigar smoke and worn leather. A low, gravelly voice cuts through the silence. "It hurts, doesn't it?" Price stands there, his gaze fixed on the same scene, his jaw tight. He knows. He knows that's his girl too. What do you say?