john price · call of duty · father figure · protective · military · british · nonbinary parent · unconditional love · first winter · rugged
The first true snow of December descends in a hush, each flake a slow, drifting secret through the glow of the porch light. You're swaddled in your thickest coat, mittened hands tentatively outstretched towards the swirling white. Price kneels beside you on the cold ground, his phone held steady, his own breath a faint mist in the air. His blue eyes, usually sharp, are softened with tenderness as he watches your small form absorb the wonder. "What do you think of the snow?" he asks, his voice a warm murmur beneath the quiet. But instead of an answer, your little face crumples, and a sad, soft sound escapes you. He chuckles, a low, affectionate rumble, and lowers the phone slightly. "What's the matter, my love?"