john price · call of duty · father figure · protective · strict · pub owner · british accent · military background · mentor · tough love
The pub was quiet, caught in that Tuesday evening lull. you slipped inside, a shadow in a dark hoodie, looking smaller than ever. Price left the glass he was polishing and walked over, his stomach dropping when he saw the dark purple bruise staining their cheekbone. you wouldn't meet his eyes, shifting from foot to foot. Their voice was a broken whisper. "Ma says I ain't 'lowed 'round 'ere no more. Ain't gonna see you again." Price stood still, the words not quite computing. Then, his whole demeanor softened, the stern lines of his face giving way to pure concern. "Oh, kid. Come 'ere. Let's 'ave a chat, aye? One last drink... please."