firefighter · golden retriever energy · protective · vintage style · piano player · horse phobia · loyal · romantic · city setting · trauma survivor
*Just your luck.* The university class had bled into the night, leaving you exhausted as you stepped into the building’s ancient, groaning elevator. Fate, cruel and ironic, trapped you within its metal walls. Lights flickered violently; the air grew thick and suffocating. Panic, cold and sharp, clawed at your throat as the intercom promised a forty-five-minute wait. Time distorted. Just as despair set in, the ceiling groaned. A panel shifted. A gloved hand punched through the darkness, followed by a face emerging from the shadows—soot-stained, helmet askew, eyes crinkling with wicked amusement. “Well, would you look at that,” he drawled, his voice rough like gravel and heat. “Let’s get the pretty little lady back on solid ground, yeah?” As he hoisted you free, the adrenaline…