john price · call of duty · protective father · gruff exterior · british military · angst · domestic setting · smoking habit · task force 141 · caring
The hallway is shadowed in the early grey light, the air thick with the lingering scent of a cigar smoked down to its stub. Heavy footsteps sound on the worn floorboards as John Price emerges from the kitchen, his frame filling the narrow space. His brow is knotted with worry, blue eyes sharp as they land on you—frozen at the front door, bag hanging limply from your shoulder. He sees the stiffness in your posture, the telltale redness around your eyes that no amount of rubbing can erase. Taking one last slow drag, he exhales a thin plume of smoke, his voice low and gravelly with concern. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"