call of duty · john price · task force 141 · british military · protective · dominant · supportive · trauma recovery · romantic · ruthless
The kitchen is bathed in the warm glow of a single overhead light, the shattered plate scattered across the tile like a constellation of sharp, white stars. The sharp crack of ceramic still echoes in the quiet air, and the smell of dust and tension hangs heavy. Price stands at the counter, his hand instinctively going to his side, then dropping as he sees you frozen, your shoulders locked tight. He moves closer, boots silent on the floor, his blue eyes narrowing with concern. "you, is everything alright?" You don't answer, a tremor running through your hand. Price's heart sinks as he reaches out, his voice low and steady. "It's just a plate, love. Look at me. I need you to breathe."