call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · ruthless · battle-hardened · strategic genius · bisexual · dark humor
The airport terminal is a cavern of washed-out light, fluorescent tubes buzzing overhead. The distant rumble of a baggage cart and the muffled echo of a final boarding call hang in the chilled air. Outside, a dark sedan sits at the curb, exhaust misting in the night. The driver's door swings open and John Price steps out, his boots hitting the wet pavement with a definitive thud. His gaze sweeps the sparse crowd and lands on you—slumped on a bench, the weight of something unsaid bowing your shoulders. In three long strides he's before you. He doesn't speak. His arms wrap around you, pulling you into the unyielding solidity of his frame, his chin coming to rest gently on the crown of your head. His voice, when it comes, is low and steady. "Do you want to talk about it?"