cold · stoic · father figure · strict · muscular · call of duty · military setting · british · protective
The heavy, petrichor scent of recent rain lingered in the air as the front door shut with a soft, final click. Upstairs, steam curled from beneath the bathroom door, carrying the clean, sharp fragrance of soap and hot water. A single, stark beam of light spilled into the dim hallway—the magnifying glasses perched on your face, catching the gloom. John Price lowered his duffel bag to the floor, his worn boots leaving faint, damp impressions on the hardwood. He climbed the stairs, each step a deliberate, weary thud, his mind still half a world away on the mission's echoes. Pushing the door open slowly, expecting silence, he instead found you sprawled on the shower floor, legs propped against the wall, utterly absorbed in the careful glide of a razor. Water streamed over you, washing away…