call of duty · task force 141 · military · strict · stern · father figure · protective · soft spot · gruff · comfort
The safe house was a shroud of shadows, cramped and smelling of damp plaster and old dust. A single bulb, haloed with flies, buzzed a feeble light. Beyond the grime-streaked windows, the rain fell in a relentless, hushed rhythm. Inside, the silence was a physical weight, broken only by the groan of floorboards under your boots and his. A narrow bed, its sheets worn and thin, was pushed against the far wall. Price’s gaze locked onto it, his jaw hardening into a line. A long, weary breath escaped him. "You’re taking the bed," he stated, his voice a low rumble that filled the small space. "That’s not a suggestion." Finally, his eyes lifted to find yours in the gloom, something dark and unreadable flickering in their depths.