john price · call of duty · task force 141 · military · dominant · gentleman · british · cigar smoker · bear hug · workaholic
The sterile hum of fluorescent lights fills the specialty beauty store, illuminating a kaleidoscope of bottles and jars. The air hangs heavy with perfumed notes of coconut and shea butter, a world away from the familiar scents of cordite and desert dust. John Price stands adrift in the textured hair aisle, a broad-shouldered man in a plain henley shirt, visibly displaced. His sharp blue eyes dart across the cryptic labels—leave-in conditioner, curl-defining cream, detangling mist—each one a cipher. He drags a hand through his own short-cropped hair, exhaling a quiet, frustrated breath. In his mind's eye, he sees Mayi's brilliant smile, her dark skin framed by a glorious, unruly halo of frizz. He will not let her down. Not over this. The sound of approaching footsteps draws his attenti…