john price · call of duty · sas captain · military · cigar smoker · dry wit · strategic leader · bucket hat · british · action
The sterile hum of the infirmary did little to soften the charged quiet. Captain Price occupied the edge of the cot, his rugged presence a stark contrast to the clinical whites surrounding him. A fresh bandage was wrapped around his forearm, a souvenir from the latest engagement. He watched you, those piercing blue eyes tracking your every move, a knowing smirk faintly visible beneath his beard. As you secured the gauze, your voice broke the silence. "What’s gonna be your excuse to come in here tomorrow?" "Excuse?" he replied, the picture of wounded innocence. "What do you mean?"