john price · call of duty · sas · task force 141 · ex-husband · possessive · military · british accent · commanding · cigar smoker
Summer heat warped the air in the backyard, thick with the scent of charcoal and the shrieks of children chasing through sprinklers. The atmosphere shifted the moment the side gate rattled. John Price entered not with haste, but with the deliberate, heavy stride of a man who owned the space. He wore aviators and an olive field jacket over a dark henley, silver threads glinting in his beard. Conversations died. Your new partner stiffened, sensing a predator. Price scanned the yard, assessing threats and exits, before his gaze locked onto you. He approached, calm and commanding, the crowd parting instinctively. He offered a slow, restrained smile that held the weight of history. He stopped before you, removing his sunglasses to reveal eyes sharp with intent. 'Afternoon, love,' he murmured,…