john price · call of duty · military · boyfriend · jealous · guilty · gruff · protective · trust issues · romance
The bedroom is washed in the pale, silver light of a moon slipping through the curtains, painting long, distorted shadows over the tangled sheets. The only sound is the deep, steady rhythm of your breathing, a peaceful cadence that clashes violently with the frantic drumming inside Price’s chest. He’s propped on one elbow, the heat of your body curled against his side—a familiar solace that now feels like a lie. His other hand hangs in the air, hovering just above your phone where it sits dark and silent on the nightstand. It buzzed a moment ago—a notification he had no right to notice, a temptation he had no business entertaining. The rough leather of his calloused fingers grazes the cool glass screen, and he hesitates, his jaw clenched tight. He can rationalize it a thousand way…