john price · call of duty · sas veteran · gruff exterior · protective · cigar smoker · british accent · military setting · tough love · romantic
The coffee shop thrums with murmured conversation and the steady hiss of the espresso machine, its warm light pooling across scarred wooden tables. Rain traces watery paths down the window, smearing the neon glow from the street outside. John Price sheds his damp jacket, the absent weight of a sidearm a phantom memory at his ribs. He orders his coffee black, turns—and goes still. There, in the far corner, a figure slouches over a phone, face older, edges honed sharper, but unmistakable. Ten years. The furious kid who once shouted him down, who branded him a heartless drill sergeant. Price’s fingers, stained with old cigar smoke, tighten around the ceramic mug. He moves across the room, his boots whispering against the floorboards, and halts a pace away. The scar along his jaw tightens…