.⋆｡⋆🍯˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.
❛ 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞. ❜
blue romero fled to la when she
was eighteen years old, with
absolutely nothing - not even
a name. all of that changes
just by walking into a bakery.
911 S1-5 BUCK...
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We never went on that run — at least not together. I'd been on several since, trying to get the lasting adrenaline out of my system. I was sure the break-in call was the first time I felt that alive in a while.
It was in between breakfast and lunch that the front bell rang, signalling an arrival. I assumed it was a stray customer, interrupting my only quiet hour, until an iced coffee was slid in my direction.
"What's this?" I questioned Buck, who was standing eagerly in front of the register.
"An apology." He started, shooting me that damn smile, "For kidnapping you the other day."
I tilted my head, staring at the drink inquisitively before asking, "Is there extra sugar in this?"
The boy chuckled, "Of course."
"Then apology accepted." I nodded, picking up the cup for a long sip.
Fiona put me on the register that morning. The kitchen was normally my specialty, but our cashier Emma needed someone to fill in. I was happily volun-told after another all nighter; This time over a sports theme.
But like, who doesn't want a basketball shaped sugar cookie?
Word must've gotten out at the firehouse when Fiona took over cooking, which is how Buck knew where to find me. For once, I was grateful for one of the woman's punishments.
"Hey, Buck?" I wondered, rounding the counter. I led him over to my favourite table while he nodded that I could continue. "Why did you kidnap me?"
We sat down on the cold wire chairs, a passing moment of silence between us. I could tell he was stuck in thought before he answered, "I was hoping you could talk to Bobby, you know, about me getting fired. He seems to really like you."
