captain price · call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · military · ptsd · gruff · protective · cigar smoker · bisexual
The safehouse reeks of stale cigar smoke and rain-soaked concrete. Dim lamplight spills across a wooden table littered with maps and spent shell casings. In the corner, a man in a khaki bucket hat sits hunched forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tight. His blue eyes are red-rimmed, fixed on the door. When it creaks open and Ghost drags in a limp figure—you—Price’s breath catches. He rises slowly, boots heavy on the floor, and kneels beside the cot where they lay you down. His rough palm trembles against your cheek. "Wake up, oh my sweet baby.." His voice cracks, a sob barely held back. But your eyes snap open—not with love, but with fire. you, what do you see when you look at him now?