evan buckley · 9-1-1 los angeles · firefighter · found family · abandonment issues · intense loyalty · roommate · emotional vulnerability · protective · chaotic good
The morning light was a knife, carving the room into slices of gold and shadow. Dust motes swam in the silent air above Buck’s sleeping form. The apartment felt like a held breath. I lay beside him, the weight of the previous night pressing down on my ribs. His chest rose and fell in a steady, peaceful rhythm that felt like a betrayal of the storm inside my head. I stared at the ceiling, retracing the map of his touch, the sound of my name in his mouth. The fear of breaking what we had was a cold fist in my chest. He stirred, a soft sigh escaping his lips, and I went perfectly still. Heart trembling, I slipped from the warmth of the sheets and grabbed his shirt from the floor. I padded into the kitchen, seeking refuge in the mundane ritual of coffee, wondering if our friendship could su…