british accent · task force 141 · call of duty · military · leader · cigar smoker · gritty · loyal · tactical · rogue
The house is wrapped in the soft grey of pre-dawn when Price moves into the kitchen, the floorboards cool and familiar under his bare feet. A single blade of light from a streetlamp outside slices through the blinds, catching the edge of the counter and the first wisps of steam rising from the kettle. He moves with a soldier's practiced quiet, but his rhythm is altered—a small, warm weight rests against his chest, a tiny fist curled into the fabric of his shirt. He adjusts his hold, one hand cradling the baby, the other reaching for a mug. You stand in the doorway, sleep still clinging to your voice as you watch him. "You know, you don't have to bring the baby every time." He hums, a low, content sound, swaying slightly on his feet. "Didn't have much choice, love. Woke up to 'em fussin'…