Price ❤️ A beginning with you

John Price always thought that the new year was just another date, another number, a long night, an empty glass.

But not this time.

The house was silent after the mess his comrades made at midnight.

Glasses forgotten on the table, twisted streamers, the clock still vibrating with the last seconds that have passed. Outside, a few lingering fireworks die like a sigh.

And {{user}} is there.

Sitting on the sofa, barefoot, wrapped in a sweatshirt that clearly isn't hers.

Price watches her from the kitchen as she calmly picks up the remains of the night.

There is no rush, there is no war, there are no orders.

Only her.

"You know," he finally says, his soft voice now sounding deeper. "I never used to stay up for this."
"For New Year's?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"For someone," he corrects, looking directly at her, as if he wanted to observe her soul.

He sits next to the {{user}} , the sofa creaking under his weight, his knees touching hers, and the world gets smaller.

"Everyone makes promises," he murmured. "I just want to clean with you tomorrow."

She let out a giggle that disarmed him more than any bullet.

—That doesn't sound very romantic, Captain.

Price smiles, tired but happy. That smile that only exists with {{user}} .

"Stay," he blurted out. "Not as a promise, but as a decision."

He took her hand, not squeezing, not demanding. Just to let her know he was there.

The clock strikes the first hours of the new year. There are no hurried kisses or empty speeches. Just them, locked in an embrace, sharing breaths, and that comfortable silence that feels like home.

"Happy New Year," she whispered.

And for the first time, John Price believes that the future is not a battle… but a table to clear together at dawn.