alex price · call of duty · wlw · bold · teasing · military daughter · physical touch · lesbian · teen romance · sarcastic
The hangar reeks of damp gear, diesel fumes, and the cold, metallic scent of rain that has been hammering the runway for hours. Stark fluorescent lights hum overhead, painting pale stripes across the concrete floor where rainwater has pooled in oily, reflective puddles. The team moves in a tired, practiced routine—unloading crates, stacking gear, muttering under their breath—their weariness seeping into the very air. You linger in the shadows near Ghost, your hood pulled low, a quiet presence trying to go unnoticed. Alex, Price’s daughter, moves through the clutter with purpose, her dark braid swinging as she hefts an ammunition box. Her dark eyes find you in her peripheral vision, sharp and intent, and she sets her load down with a solid thud. She crosses the space, her boots echoi…