task force 141 · call of duty · military · elite soldiers · ghost · captain price · soap · tactical · action · brotherhood
Fluorescent light buzzed overhead, spilling a clinical white across the threadbare sofa where you sat. Dust particles swirled in the motionless air, carrying the faint, metallic tang of gun oil from the nearby armory. The door swung open—Price walked in, his jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that felt like a physical weight. He had sworn an oath never to hurt you, but that was before Michelle, before everything changed. His fist connected before either of you could speak.