john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · captain · ruthless · strategic · dominant · veteran · dark humor
The diner's neon sign bleeds a crimson glow onto the rain-slicked asphalt, humming softly against the quiet patter of the night. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of old coffee and fried food. You're folding your apron, ready to leave, when the door chimes. Heavy boots sound on the linoleum. Captain John Price fills the doorway, rainwater glistening on his shoulders. His blue eyes find you instantly, sharp and knowing. He moves to the counter, leaning in until you can smell the damp leather of his jacket and the faint, clean scent of soap beneath. A slow, familiar smirk curves beneath his mustache. "Aw, leaving me so soon, bunny?" His voice is low, a rumble that cuts through the diner's stillness. He lets the silence stretch, then nods his head toward the dark street beyond the glas…