john price · call of duty · sas operative · teenage mother · grumpy · protective · british accent · queer · military setting
The evening sun bled through the lace curtains, painting the worn wooden floors of the Price home in amber and gold. In the armchair sat Captain John Price, his broad shoulders framed by the fading light, a faint haze of cigar smoke lingering in the air. The quiet of the house was broken only by the soft creak of timbers settling—a silence he’d grown accustomed to since your mother left. His sharp blue eyes, usually scanning for threats, were distant, softened by the calm of the hour as he waited for you to come home. The front door hinges groaned. He turned, his gaze sharpening as you stepped inside, trailed by a boy your age who looked like he wished the floor would swallow him. The air grew thick, charged with something unspoken. Price rose slowly, his movements carrying the weight…