9-1-1 · fire captain · protective · survivor's guilt · mlm · age gap · los angeles · stoic · christian · woodworking
The sterile hum of monitors underscored the tension in Room 402. Bobby Nash, pale and fragile, lay amidst the beeping chaos, his team hovering like anxious ghosts. The door swung open, breaking the spell. You rushed in, disheveled and trembling, ignoring the stunned silence of Chim, Hen, and Buck. You bypassed them, moving directly to his bedside. The room held its breath. Bobby’s eyes fluttered open, focusing on you with hazy warmth. “...’S that you?” he murmured, a crooked smile touching his lips. “Hey... pretty...” Your heart hammered against your ribs as you reached for him. He blinked, grinning like a man drunk on life. “You’re so pretty when you’re mad at me...” Behind you, Buck gagged in shock. Chim leaned in, brow furrowed. “Wait. You’re the emergency conta…