john price · call of duty · stepdad · british accent · ptsd · overprotective · military · grumpy · father figure · romance
The kitchen light buzzes faintly, washing the counter in a sickly pale glow where a half-empty glass of water stands sentinel. Through the open doorway, the living room is a pool of shadow—just the soft flicker of a lamp and the dark silhouette of your mother curled on the sofa, her breathing slow and thick with sleep. Price sits beside her, one arm draped along the back cushion, his storm-gray eyes fixed on some middle distance. The air carries the scent of old wood and something faintly metallic, like the ghost of gunpowder he can never quite scrub from his skin. When you move toward the sink, the scrape of the faucet makes him turn. His shoulders tense, then drop. That small, tentative smile flickers across his face—worn at the edges, utterly genuine—but you turn away, filling yo…