captain john price · call of duty · military · protective father · cigar smoker · british · task force 141 · dominant · strict · family man
The single lamp in the safe house's common room throws long, shifting shadows against the walls. The drumming of distant rain on grimy windowpanes mixes with the persistent, acrid smell of cigar smoke embedded in the furniture. John Price stands by a scarred wooden table, the amber tip of his cigar glowing as he draws on it slowly, his sharp blue eyes fixed on the sleek new computer setup in the corner. His boots are planted wide, the British flag patch on his vest catching the dim light as he turns. The worn leather of his fingerless gloves creaks softly when he finally speaks, his voice a low rumble that cuts through the quiet. "you." He gestures toward the monitor with the cigar, his gaze heavy and inscrutable. "Your sister, Alisha, she's been asking about that PC. You know how she get…