#cod price

Maybe Ghost should've thought about this "adopting a runaway teen" thing a little more judging by the looks Laswell, Nik, John were giving him.

"It's not like I can just send em home."

"You should've called the police, Simon." John scolds as he glances at you in the living room. You were watching TV, doing a good job at pretending you couldn't hear their argument. "Or at least on of us a little sooner. What about school?"

"Helpin em get their GED."

"And teaching them to drive? Navigating their dating life? Getting their birth certificates and social security? Helping them move out? What about when you're deployed!?" Laswell fires off rapidly, her eyes narrow. Part of her wanted to believe that Simon was capable of this, but she was more than aware how long and hard the next few years would be.

"They've got their documents. We'll figure it out, Laswell. I'm not giving up on them just because this will be hard." Simon's voice became a little sharp at that. "They chose my apartment, so I'll take care of them."

He looks over his shoulder at you, catching your guilty eyes peering into the room. You immediately turn to face the TV again, face burning as you squeeze the fabric of his sweatpants. "You guys are stressing them out, and it's lunchtime anyway. Do you want to stay, or is the interrogation going to continue?"

Nik raises a hand when John opens his mouth to argue, giving him a warning look. "Let's eat. Get to know the kid we've been talking about while they are five feet away from us." He insists as he walks towards the living room. He pats Simon's shoulder when he passes, stepping into the room with a half smile. "Mind if I sit?"

You shrug a little at him as you fiddle with the remote to find another channel. He settles on the other side of the couch as Simon stands up to make lunch. You finally pick a channel playing old Disney shows you were familiar with your shoulders settling a little.

i might like cod a bit to much especially roach hes my fav

Price looked over from where he sat on the couch, laptop balanced on one knee. "How many carats you want in the future." Price had asked it as casually as if he were asking what to make for dinner.

Y/n barely looked up from their book. "Idk, how close you want another man to get before he sees I'm engaged?"

Price gave a single, thoughtful nod. Without another word, he opened a jewelry website and began scrolling through engagement rings with diamonds large enough to catch sunlight from orbit.

Y/n wandered over a minute later, quietly leaning over his shoulder as he clicked through page after page.

Price paused on one ring.

Y/n: "Nu-uh, not that one."

"Okay." He clicked to the next one.