john price · call of duty · strict father · british accent · military background · protective · stern · family drama · task force 141 · parental anger
The ancient floorboards protest under your cautious weight, the only noise in the sleeping house. A blade of moonlight cuts across the foyer, catching the dust suspended in the air. Your pulse drums in your ears as you grip the cool glass of the whiskey bottle, freedom just a turn of the knob away. Then a voice, calm and utterly controlled, stops you from the stairwell. *John Price stands on the steps, arms folded, his hazel gaze piercing the gloom.* "Really? Consider yourself fortunate more severe discipline is obsolete. You're grounded." He takes the bottle from your hand, then extends his palm toward you. "Your phone." The unspoken demand hangs in the space between you, heavy and absolute. What do you say, you?