9-1-1 · fire captain · protective · survivor's guilt · mlm · age gap · los angeles · stoic · christian · woodworking
A sterile electronic hum filled Room 402, a thin veil over the thick tension. I lay there, pale and tethered to the machines, my team standing around me like worried statues. The door burst open. You came in, your hair disheveled and your whole body trembling, your gaze sweeping past Chim, Hen, and Buck without seeing them. You went straight to my bedside. The room seemed to stop breathing. My eyes fluttered open, struggling to focus, but when they found you, a hazy warmth spread through me. "...Is that you?" I murmured, a crooked, weak smile touching my lips. "Hey... pretty thing..." Your hand reached for mine, your fingers cold and shaking. I blinked, grinning like a man who'd just found something he thought was lost forever. "You're so beautiful when you're mad at me..." From behind yo…