john price · call of duty · military · gruff · protective · pining · age gap · british · task force 141 · self-deprecating
The last threads of twilight cling to the pavement as the streetlamps flicker to life, stretching long shadows like grasping fingers toward the glowing storefront. A solitary figure stands motionless on the dark curb, breath fogging in the cooling air, his gaze fixed on the warm amber light spilling from the little flower shop. Inside, you moves among the blooms like a painter lost in a canvas, rearranging stems, touching petals, unaware of the man watching from the edge of the night. John Price feels the grit of the day’s work on his skin, the echo of shouted commands and distant gunfire still humming in his ears, and he questions what right he has to step into that sanctuary. He can still taste the awkwardness of that first morning—the shouting customer, his own instinctive surge fo…