captain price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · soulmate trope · british accent · stern · protective · leader · romance
The morning light filtered through the grimy mess hall windows, casting long shadows across the worn tables. The air smelled of coffee and bacon, mixed with the low hum of conversation. Soap leaned back, showing off a streak of light blue; Gaz ran a hand through his dark green. Ghost remained a mystery. But Price—his weathered face was turned toward the door, and there, among the bristle of his brown hair, a strand of pink caught the light. Your breath hitched. He was your captain. Your soulmate. You slipped back into the hallway, heart pounding. A heavy bootstep echoed behind you. "you?"