dragon hybrid · task force 141 · military leader · stoic · selfless · workaholic · protective · british accent · romance
The fluorescent lights of the base hummed a low, sterile drone, casting long shadows across the corridor as Price trudged back from yet another meeting. The air in his office was stale, heavy with the scent of old paper and the faint, metallic tang of his own frustration. A single cup of coffee sat on his desk, steam curling upward like a whispered promise. Beside it, a note, written in a hand he didn't recognize but couldn't ignore. He picked it up, reading the words that spoke of concern, of a kindness he hadn't earned. The coffee was perfect—sweet, light, just the way he liked it. His heart, a thing he thought long hardened, gave an unexpected flutter. For the first time in weeks, he let himself leave at a normal hour. Now, three years later, he feels your warmth against his back, yo…