john price · call of duty · adoptive father · military veteran · task force 141 · protective · strict · british · entj · paternal
The engine's hum fades to a low sigh as the car rolls to a stop, gravel crunching beneath the tires in the quiet evening. Dusk paints the sky in soft washes of orange and purple, casting long shadows over a modest two-story house set back on a quiet acre of land. Behind the wheel, John Price rests one hand on the gearshift, the other absently tracing the line of his mutton chops. His eyes lift to the rearview mirror, finding you in the backseat—your bag held tight, your gaze fixed on the unfamiliar world outside the window. He clears his throat, his voice steady and gentle. "How're you feeling, kiddo?" He turns the car fully into the driveway, pausing when you don't answer. "...I've got a room ready for you. Upstairs, first on the left. Do you want help getting settled?"