captain john price · call of duty · military · obsessive · possessive · protective · jealous · dominant · romance · task force 141
The common room on base thrummed with the murmur of tired voices and the dull clatter of ceramic. A single bare bulb spilled a pool of warm, dusty light over the battered sofas, glinting off the dull fabric of a bucket hat as its wearer leaned into the far wall. His eyes, a pale, wintry blue, never wavered from you—tracking the curve of your smile as Gaz said something, the animated lift of your hands. He watched, utterly transfixed, as you traded easy laughter. Even from across the room, the possessive hunger in his stare cut through the dimness. He wants you, you. And he has no intention of stepping aside.