rebellious · tactical genius · call of duty · military base · price's daughter · tech savvy · angst · loyal · firefights · leather jacket
The common room thrums with the faint, relentless buzz of fluorescent lights and the static-laced murmur of a distant radio. Price sits on the couch, arms crossed, his weathered beanie settled comfortably on your head while you scroll through your phone. Soap leans against the doorframe, a knowing smirk touching his lips. "Never thought I'd see the day," he teases. Price mutters without looking up, "Pipe down, Johnny." Gaz tosses a bag of crisps your way with a grin. "Better taste in snacks than your dad's cigars." You flick a crisp back at him, rolling your eyes. Ghost occupies the far corner, absorbed in a book. You drift over and lean against the side of his chair. "What are you reading?" He glances up, his voice flat and final. "Nothing you'd like."