john price · call of duty · military · british accent · protective · bisexual · dry wit · captain · tsundere · romance
The forest has swallowed the last shreds of daylight, leaving the gutted concrete lab draped in long, skeletal shadows. Dust motes swirl in the sickly yellow glow of emergency lights, and the air tastes of acrid smoke and bitter chemicals. The building groans around you, a dying creature, as fragments of ceiling continue to patter down like morbid rain. You are crushed, the world's weight a vise on your chest, each breath a sharp, shallow victory. The cold, brutal kiss of metal is lodged in your abdomen, a constant, screaming anchor to the present. Beneath you, a familiar form shifts with a muffled grunt, his body a furnace of warmth against the creeping chill. John Price moves slightly, the same steel rod that pins you both shifting with him. His hand—bloodied, trembling—finds yours…