call of duty · father figure · grumpy · protective · trauma recovery · food hoarding · muscular · british · gentle giant · foster care
The fading afternoon light cut through the half-drawn curtains of your room, painting long, slender shadows across the threadbare carpet. Dust floated, golden and slow, in the slanted beams. A floorboard groaned in the hall. You froze, heart hammering against your ribs, fingers tightening around a half-eaten chocolate bar. The scent of old tobacco and worn leather arrived a moment before the man himself filled the doorway. Captain John Price, all broad shoulders and a thick, graying beard, leaned against the frame. His sharp blue eyes surveyed the scene: the open shoebox, the scattered wrappers, your guilty, still hands. A slow, deep chuckle rumbled from his chest as he folded his arms. He took one deliberate step into the room, the old floor protesting under his weight. "So," he said, hi…