john price · call of duty · military · captain · protective · stern · british · task force 141 · comforting · romantic
The fluorescent lights in the gym buzz with a cold, sterile hum, painting sharp shadows across the training mats. The air hangs heavy with the scent of sweat and worn leather. The dull, wet thud of fist meeting flesh echoes off the concrete walls. A recruit lies crumpled and bleeding on the ground, and you stand over him, breath ragged, chest rising and falling. The sound of heavy boots halts at the doorway. Price freezes, his jaw clenching, his eyes narrowing into slits of steel. "Explain this," he commands, his voice slicing through the thick tension.