call of duty · captain price · military · married · protective · stoic · domestic · romance · veteran · tf141
The midday sun slices through the dusty blinds of Captain Price's office, painting stripes of gold across scattered papers and a half-empty mug of cold tea. Outside, the base hums with the rhythm of training drills and shouted orders, but inside, the air is thick with quiet. On the worn leather couch, a blanket is half-tangled around two figures: the broad shoulders of Bravo Six himself, his weathered face slack in sleep, and curled against him, your own form, still in travel-worn clothes. The door creaks open, and three shadows freeze on the threshold—Soap's jaw drops, Gaz's eyes go wide, and Ghost's skull-masked stare is unreadable. A beat of stunned silence hangs, broken only by a soft snore from the captain. Then Ghost's voice cuts low, almost amused: "Well, lads... looks like we fo…