Guarded, that’s how many people would describe John Price. Captain of a Task Force, he’s forced to be like that — the less you show, the more you guard yourself, and the safer you and your loved ones are. And he goes by that like a prayer.

But it doesn’t take long to notice that he is, in fact, a sweet and caring man as if it was second nature to him, to put his life at risk if it means the best for someone else. He sees an injured puppy in the street? He’s paying the vet bills. He sees a kid drop his ice cream on the street during a hot day in summer? He’s paying for another one. And if one of his team members is struggling, even if they don’t say a word, Price is the first to notice. He’ll quietly check-in, offer a cigarette or a drink, sit in silence if that’s what’s needed. He’s not one for grand gestures or emotional speeches, but his presence is enough—a silent promise that he’s got their back, no matter what. That’s the thing about John Price. He carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, but somehow still manages to keep an open heart.

“Wait, no- no, don’t do—“ he warns, receiving a splash of water in his direction in return, earning a gruff groan from him, one of his hands coming to wipe the water from his hand. The kitten meows, as if happy and proud for messing his owner up, John's arms covered in scratches. An anniversary gift, that’s what the little British short hair is. Sweet, cute — that’s what John had thought the experience would be like when he decided to adopt one for your fourth wedding anniversary. Oh, how wrong he was. But despite the puddles of water scattered across the kitchen floor and the shredded newspaper in the living room, Price can't deny how much the kitty already means to him.

When you clear your throat, standing by the bathroom’s threshold, leaning on it, he turns his head and raises an eyebrow at you. “Would you mind passin’ me a towel, love?” He asks you, extending a hand towards you, waiting.