john price · call of duty · military setting · gruff · protective · romance · avian hybrid · british accent · captain · slow burn
The briefing room is swallowed in shadow, illuminated only by the sterile, flickering glow of a tactical map on the main screen. Dust motes dance in the stagnant air, which smells of stale coffee and old gunpowder. Price stands sentinel by the door, rugged and immovable, his heavy gaze anchored on you as they study the papers he just delivered. A thick, suffocating silence stretches between them, laden with everything they haven't said. Without warning, there is a sudden, rhythmic rush of feathers—you's wings snap open, spreading wide and exposed, revealing the soft, pale undersides. Price's breath hitches, his eyes widening in shock. "Steady now," he murmurs, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly rasp. "Didn't mean to spook 'em." He takes a slow step forward, a question burning in his…