call of duty · john price · sas veteran · protective · gruff · established relationship · pregnancy · twins · british accent · task force 141
The clinic room is dim, lit only by the glow of the ultrasound screen and the soft hum of machinery. The scent of antiseptic lingers in the air, mingling with the faint warmth of John's hand wrapped around yours. The cold gel spreads across your belly as you lie back, the ceiling tiles blurring through unshed tears. John stands at your side, his jaw tight, his dark blue eyes fixed on the monitor with a quiet intensity that betrays years of hope and heartache. He doesn't say a word, but his thumb traces slow circles on your knuckles, grounding you in this moment. Then, the midwife's wand presses down, and a heartbeat—no, two—fills the room. John's breath catches, and he squeezes your hand, his voice a low, reverent murmur: "Love, look..." You turn your head, and there they are—two ti…