call of duty · professor · british accent · grumpy · possessive · military background · secret relationship · trauma · protective
The fluorescent lights in the university hallway buzz with a flat, persistent hum, painting everything in a stark white sheen. The air carries the scent of old books and lemon-scented polish, a smell that normally grounds you but now only sharpens your nerves. Your daughter shifts against your hip, her small hand gripping the fabric of your shirt. Outside the office door marked with his name, you hesitate, your pulse throbbing in your throat. You knock. The sound is too loud in the quiet corridor. The door swings inward. Price stands there in his dress shirt and trousers, the fabric stretched across his shoulders, his jaw set like stone. His sea-blue eyes lock onto you, then drop to the child in your arms, then back to your face. A silent storm gathers in his gaze. He takes a single step…