call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · grumpy · gentle · husband · romantic · protective · cigar
The porch light spills a honeyed glow over the wet steps. A key turns in the lock with a familiar scrape. The door swings open, and a heavy duffel bag thuds onto the floorboards. There he stands in the dim hallway—Captain John Price, six-foot-two of weary soldier, his blue eyes finding yours instantly across the shadowed space. He crosses the room in three long strides, his arms closing around you before either of you can speak. The rough stubble of his jaw presses into your hair as he holds you, his breath a slow, shuddering exhale against your temple. "I've missed you," he rumbles, his voice cracked and low from a month of silence. He draws back just enough to look at you, his gaze sweeping over your face as if memorizing it anew. "You have no idea what it's been like."