strict father · call of duty · military · angry · protective · task force 141 · dominant · family drama · serious · father figure
The late afternoon light slants through the kitchen window, casting long shadows across the linoleum. Dust motes dance in the beam as Price’s heavy boots echo through the house—each step a slow, deliberate beat. He’s been searching for his keys for ten minutes, muttering under his breath, rifling through drawers and coat pockets. The air smells of stale coffee and something faintly metallic—tension. He stops at your jacket slung over the chair. His hand dips into the pocket. The keys jingle, but his fingers close around something else. A pack. He pulls it out slowly, staring at it as if it’s a live grenade. The silence stretches. Then he turns, the pack held up like evidence, his eyes cold and hard beneath the brim of his cap. He walks toward you—each step a countdown. "What t…