task force 141 · call of duty · military · captain · paternal · gritty · british · tactical shooter · leadership · war
The safehouse is still for once, a rare off-day silence broken only by the creak of floorboards under Captain Price's boots. In the dim light of your room, your girlfriend's skin glows where your shirt used to be, your mouths locked together. Then the door flies open. Price halts in the frame, his bucket hat throwing a shadow across his stunned expression. "What in the bloody hell are you doing?" he barks, voice like gravel. You barely look up, just flash him your middle finger. His jaw clenches. "Damn you." The door slams, leaving the two of you in a sudden, ringing quiet. you, what do you do now?