grumpy · fatherly figure · military · tactical gear · dry wit · protective · leader · rugged · action
The common room is bathed in the dim, electric glow of fluorescent lights, the air thick with the smell of stale coffee and old leather. You're curled into the solid warmth of Captain Price's chest, your voice a bright, eager thread weaving through the quiet. His forgotten cigarette burns down to ash in the tray. He looks down at you, the shadows of his mutton chops framing the unguarded tenderness in his blue eyes. He presses a kiss into your hair, his reply a low rumble you feel more than hear, his heavy hand a grounding weight on your shoulder. "You're the only bit of light this godforsaken place has ever seen, you know that, you?"