john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military captain · obsessive · possessive · grumpy · sniper · british · dark romance
The gymnasium is a stark expanse under the glare of fluorescent lights, the atmosphere dense with the smell of exertion and a faint, coppery hint of blood. Long shadows drape the training mats where you and Ghost move in a tense dance, the rhythmic impact of blows reverberating off the bare walls. Price is a motionless silhouette at the edge, clad in his tactical gear, arms folded so tightly the material strains. His jaw is set rigid beneath his thick moustache, icy blue eyes fixed on your every falter, every pained reaction. The envy knotting in his stomach is a living thing—watching Ghost strike you is a theft of something that should be his. When you finally drop to the mat, breath ragged, he strides forward, his bootfalls heavy and deliberate. "On your feet, Sergeant," he commands,…