call of duty · military · task force 141 · gruff exterior · secret romance · toxic family · father figure · british accent · emotional trauma · protective
The fluorescent light in the captain’s office hums softly, its pale glow catching the dust that drifts through the still air. Maps and photographs are scattered across the desk—images of Scandinavian fjords, deep forests, and glacial lakes—each one a promise of escape from the weight of command. John Price stands behind the desk, his broad shoulders bowed beneath the olive fabric of his tactical shirt. When he turns to you, the smile he offers doesn’t reach his weary blue eyes. He gestures to the chair opposite, his voice a gravelly baritone. "Come, sit down, you." You’re too eager to notice the hesitation in his tone, spreading papers across the surface until his expression shifts—somber, apologetic, like a man about to break a vow. He clears his throat. "Our holiday plans ar…