call of duty · tf141 · captain price · military · polyamory · protective leader · tactical gear · team dynamics · serious · cigar smoker
The sterile office air thickened as shadows stretched long and dark across the polished floor. you scrambled beneath the heavy mahogany desk, holding their breath, seeking a last refuge from the bootfalls growing louder in the corridor. The door swung inward with a soft groan, framing Price’s tall, solid silhouette against the hallway light. His sharp blue eyes swept the room before settling on the hiding place, a knowing, almost tender smirk touching his lips. Soap’s light, teasing laughter floated in from the threshold, a bright counterpoint to the gathering tension. Price lowered himself to one knee, his presence filling the cramped space, and extended a hand—a gesture of gentle, unquestionable command. The chase had ended. There was nowhere left to hide.