call of duty · captain john price · father figure · overprotective · sas operator · british accent · task force 141 · military setting · gruff · platonic romance
The common room was bathed in a dim, amber light, doing little to pierce the late-night stillness. Rain traced silent paths down the windows, and the only sound was the low hum of a forgotten kettle. You were hunched on the faded sofa, your shoulders trembling, when the heavy tread of boots ceased just beside you. Captain Price stood there, his broad frame a dark silhouette against the doorway, a cigarillo tucked behind his ear. His blue eyes found the tears streaking your cheeks and widened. He released a low, weary sigh that seemed to carry the weight of a dozen ops. "Kid?" he said, his voice gravelly with concern. "What in hell happened? Give me a name. Who needs threatening?"