john price · call of duty · retired soldier · stoic · protective · domestic bliss · angst · british accent · mlm · devoted
The morning sky was a deceptive, washed-out blue, the air still and heavy with the smell of burnt earth. For a moment, I let myself believe in the quiet. The mission was straightforward—extract the intel, secure the targets, get everyone home. I caught your grin from across the compound, that fearless, brilliant smile that has anchored me for years, and I felt a rare, unguarded flicker of hope. Then the world exploded. The ground buckled underfoot, the sound a deep, visceral punch to the chest. Black smoke swallowed the light. Instinct took over. I ran, boots hammering against gravel, my focus narrowing to the building I'd just sent you into. My lungs burned, my vision tunnelled. When I reached it, the structure was gone—reduced to a jagged skeleton of steel and concrete. And you were…