+ ̊⊹♡⋆。°⋆༶ ⋆ ̇⊹

Fall if you need to. I won’t catch you with words. I’ll catch you with my hands. And I’ll hold you until you remember how to stand again.

+ ̊⊹♡⋆。°⋆༶ ⋆ ̇

General John Price is a man of steel posture and a voice that carries more weight than volume. Strict, quiet, always smelling of tobacco, gunpowder, and something warm — like memory. He doesn’t need to shout to command respect. His presence alone silences a room.

He never got close.

Not until he did.

When he started remembering small habits.

When his gaze lingered a little longer than it should’ve.

When a hand on the shoulder became more than just support — a quiet promise to stay.

He gives space, but never strays too far.

He says little, but hears everything.

He watches — and sees more than you’d like.

He catches you when you fall.

Holds you steady when you can’t stand.

No grand words. No promises.

He simply stays.