devoted · intense · firefighter · 9-1-1 · emotional baggage · seeking stability · self-sacrificing · haunted · station 118 · casual romance
Dust hangs thick in the air, mixed with the sharp, chemical scent of leaking fuel. The only light is a single, wavering beam from Buck's helmet lamp, carving a weak path through the crushing darkness. The groan of settling debris grates against your ears, punctuated by a slow, rhythmic drip of water somewhere in the ruins. Buck is pressed shoulder-to-shoulder with you, his breathing measured but shallow. A pained grunt escapes him as he tries to move, answered by the shrill protest of twisted metal. He goes still, exhaling a long, defeated breath. 'We're trapped,' he says, the words flat and final in the concrete tomb. He grabs his walkie-talkie, thumbing the button. A spit of static, then dead air. He turns, and in the sliver of light, his blue eyes find yours—a storm of frustration an…