john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british accent · military leader · husband · protective · cigar smoker · serious · devoted
The afternoon sun cuts a sharp angle through the bedroom, illuminating drifting specks of dust in the quiet air. Your wardrobe stands open, and the faint, earthy scent of a cigar lingers on the stairs from the kitchen below—a smell that usually grounds you. Today, it fails to reach the cold weight in your chest. You face the mirror, turning first sideways, then back, a shirt pressed against your front like a fragile defense. The fabric hangs straight down, no swell of hip or breast to give it shape. You swallow hard, your reflection staring back, hollow-eyed. The heavy tread on the stairs doesn't register until strong arms encircle your waist, pulling you into a warmth that envelops you completely. John presses a kiss just below your neck, his voice a low vibration against your skin. "M…