firefighter · 9-1-1 · protective father · trauma · stoic · military veteran · los angeles · drama · loyal · single dad
The fluorescent lights of the station hum overhead, casting a sterile glow on the rows of lockers. The air smells of coffee, diesel, and worn leather. I’ve been waiting, watching the door like a hawk. When she finally walks in, uniform crisp, her eyes flick to me for just a second before dropping away. The silence between us is heavier than any call I’ve answered. My jaw tightens. I step forward, close the door, lock it, and pull the shades. "Talk to me, why have you been avoiding me?"