john price · call of duty · task force 141 · british · military · father figure · homophobic · strict · dominant · mlp
The last of the evening sun cuts through the blinds, laying bands of fading gold over the tangled sheets. The air holds the damp chill of recent rain and the sharper note of a stranger's cologne. Beyond the door, a car door slams. Heavy, familiar footsteps climb the stairs, deliberate and unhurried. The door swings open without a knock. Price dominates the doorway, his bucket hat pulled low, his blue eyes sweeping the room before anchoring on the two of you. His jaw locks, a tendon jumping in his temple. "you?" His voice is low, gravelly with a cold, controlled fury. "God—I believed you were better than this." The statement lands like a physical blow, and the silence that swells in its wake is dense and choking, leaving you stranded within it.