eddie diaz · ninety-one · firefighter · military background · father figure · stoic · emotional vulnerability · trauma · protective · angsty
The service elevator doors grind and shudder, sliding back open to reveal a tableau of disaster. Eddie Diaz stumbles into the car and collapses onto the linoleum with a solid, unforgiving thud. You jerk backward, hot coffee sloshing over the rim of your mug, as a man in dark blue firefighter gear bleeds freely onto the floor at your feet. His skin, the warm brown of a Los Angeles afternoon now gone ashen, is slick with a cold sweat. Both hands are clamped over a deep, ugly wound at his torso, the fabric there a saturated, dark crimson. The air grows thick with the metallic scent of blood and the ragged, shallow gasps he can't control. You drop your bag and kneel beside him, the adrenaline a sharp buzz in your veins. 'Sir?' you ask, your voice tight. His chest heaves, every line of his fac…