Hearth of Heart: A Chicago Franchise Fanfiction [Mature]

Chapter 5

My dedication is for a fellow writer who dedicated a chapter for me for the first time. It means a lot xoxox

I looked at the monitor, trying to comprehend what I'm reading. I came up empty. All the tragedy. The sadness. It baffled me. So many fire. I closed the site which is showing me the fire incidents that happen in the last year. Statistics on the U.S Fire showed over 1.3 million fires give or take two or three years ago. Good news is it keeps decreasing, but I couldn't bear the photos. It was gruesome to watch some, and at least painful to watch most. The residential fires seem to be the most harmless, but even those causes casualties. Fallen firefighters.

That's what they call them. "Fallen" firefighters. Is the word supposed to make their left ones feel better ? It is associated with angels, and glory, and might. But it's still shitty. I hate how thoughtless civilians are about what's happening right under their noses. How ignorant I was. It's unbearable to think I was somehow immune of all this happening right around me. I didn't care about the firehouses, I pass more than one firehouse, on my way to work every morning. I cared for the firefighters, only and merely for their renowned good looks.

And now I'm with Casey. I can't quite shoo away the electric shock I get whenever I'm with him yet. Look at me now. I'm meeting him in an hour and I feel like a school girl, giddy and anxious to meet her crush.

I'm a sensible woman, for God's sake, I thought, rolling my eyes at myself.

You used to be, a voice countered inside my head. Great. Now I'm talking to myself. I shake my head violently before finally getting out of the bed, closing my laptop and stored it away. I took a good, long shower. I didn't bother dressing up, I just wanted to see him.

But again, my face is always made up wherever I go, so that's a given with me. I applied a knitted broken white pullover over my washed up jeans and let my hair loose on my back. I hastily wore my simple silver flats and rushed out, aware he's finishing his shift soon.

I got to the firehouse just as he stepped out of Truck 81. It seems like they just came from putting out a fire. I sigh. Always at the end of their shift. He stopped mid track, just like he waa feeling my gaze on him. He turned, and gave me my favourite smile.

My footsteps paces, and soon I was running slowly,then I was just running to him. I didn't even slow down, knowing full well my weight would have no meaningful impact on him. I crashed into him, Casey reeking of smoke and burn, and he absorbed the full impact of my body with his chest. His hands tighten around my waist as I swung my hands around his neck, tighter than a corset. He spun me around once and put me down, but I wasn't loosening my grip. I half heard wolf whistles from the guys, cheering at our public display of affection, but I didn't care. And neither did he.

"I haven't seen you in ages," I said.

"Luella, you saw me 2 days ago," he said. I didn't answer. He stroked my hair, from my head to the end of it on my lower back, repeatedly. Then he gently pried off my hands from his neck, and pulled me apart from him. He rested his hand on the curves of my waist and looked at me.

"You look beautiful," he said.

"Can't say the same about you, unfortunately. You're a bloody mess," I said softly. He laughed a hearty laugh and took my hand in his.

"I'm sorry I had to pull a double shift," he said as we walk into the firehouse, hand in hand.

"All good," I assured him, I myself calming down merely because of his presence. As we walked into the firehouse, I see everyone collapse either on the couch or on their chairs. Casey himself can't stand any longer, and sunk into the nearest chair. But Peter is as usual, manning the kitchen.