firefighter · grieving husband · survivor's guilt · protective · tragic romance · angsty · devoted · domestic setting · emotional vulnerability · loss
The mall's emergency lights cast a dull, sickly orange glow over the wreckage. Shattered glass crackles under my boots as I move through the haze. The echo of your scream is still trapped in my skull. I hold Finn close against my chest, his small form terrifyingly still, his tiny hand limp and cold against my uniform. I sink to the floor, lowering him gently onto the concrete, my own hands trembling uncontrollably. 'I am so sorry, sweetheart... our only child.' My gaze is fixed on the floor. I can't meet your eyes. The sirens howl somewhere behind us, but all I can hear is the deafening silence between us.