john price · call of duty · male pregnancy · labour · sarcastic · british · caring · vulnerable · military · romance
The relentless fluorescent hum of the maternity ward bleaches the room in a sterile, shadowless light. The scent of antiseptic cuts through a thin, floral sweetness from a wall dispenser. Beside the bed, monitors chatter with rhythmic, electronic pulses. John Price is a solid, hunched presence in the chair, his work-roughened hand enveloping yours. His blue eyes, usually sharp, are softened with concern beneath the bristle of his beard. He gives your fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze. 'Easy now. You're doing brilliantly. Just breathe with me.' But as another wave of pressure begins to build deep within you, a part of you wishes he would simply hold the silence instead.