Damien Haas/Smosh Imagines

accidents happen- DCH

First day in LA, first day of your new life... or so you keep saying to yourself. You have never been so nervous in your life. You just moved across the country for sun, sand, and sea therapy, something the dreary East Coast couldn't offer. After the worst year of your life, you picked the remnants and U-Hauled it from New York. Finally crossing into California and hitting LA traffic could not have made you happier.

You type your new apartment's address into your phone, praying for a shortcut. LA was great already, traffic, however, was not. Waze came in clutch, showing you some side streets the U-Haul pickup truck could fit down. You finally make it to the light, taking a left when you feel a jolt behind you, lurching your body forward.

"Shit," you say out loud. "I'm gonna have to pay out the ass in fees for this accident." The man who hit you jumped out of his SUV and sprinted to your door.

"Oh my God, ma'am, are you hurt?" He asked, panicked. You snapped out of your thoughts and turned to look at him. He was about your age, maybe a little older, with dark hair and chocolate eyes, full of concern while you didn't answer him.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Are you injured at all?" You asked. You tuck your hair behind your ear, something you did when focused, or nervous quite frankly. Working in a hospital did that to you.

"No, not at all. Here, let me help you out of the truck," he offers his hand after pulling open the door. You take it graciously, hopping down out of the vehicle. You walk around the back, noticing minor damage to the bumper of your rental, but the fender bender had crunched the front of the SUV.

"What happened?" You asked, turning to look at him. You notice his hair is more wild than last looking at him. Most likely from his hands running through it out of anxiety.

"I-I-I don't rea-re-really kno-ow," he started stuttering and gasping for air. Working in a psychiatric facility up until last year helped my assessment skills; he was having a panic attack.

"Here, honey, come sit in the truck," you practically drag him by the wrist, him still gasping for air.

"Okay I'm going to call the police for a report since mine is a rental, while I do that I need you to breathe in for 3, hold for 3, breathe out for 3, hold for 3. Do you understand?" He nods.

"Okay, after I dial, do you want my hand?" He nods again.

"Do you have any respiratory concerns? Asthma, pneumonia?" He shakes his head, grabbing onto the door of the truck, sitting in the driver's seat. You dial 911, putting the phone up to your ear and holding out your hand. He takes it, intertwining his fingers with yours and squeezing. You rub circles into the side of his hand instinctively, talking to the dispatcher on the other end simultaneously.

"What intersection are you at?" The dispatcher asks you.

"Uhhh, let me try to see, hold on." You squint at the street signs on the corner. "I'm not 100% sure but I think it says 6th and Broadway. Is that helpful?"

"Yes ma'am, we have officers on the way. Do you need EMS or Fire Rescue?"

"No, no. Just a minor fender bender. Might not hurt to send one ambulance because the other driver is having a panic attack, I don't need him collapsing on me from hypoxia." You look over to the man sitting in the truck, watching him do the breathing you told him to.

"Okay ma'am, EMS is on their way. Are you comfortable enough to not be on the phone with us?"

"Yeah I'll be fine. I was a RN in New York." You say. It sounds weird because you are still one, just out of work at the moment. Whatever, you had a cutie staring at you as you played with your hair with the hand he was holding after getting into a car accident. It's justified.

"Okay, they should be there any minute."

"Thank you," you say quickly and hang up, turning your attention to the beautiful man in the driver' seat. "How are you doing, are you okay?" You slide your phone in your back pocket and grab his other hand.

"I'm okay. That breathing helped. You were a doctor?" He asks, you giggle.

"No, I was a nurse back in New York, where I'm from. Enough about me though, we can talk after the formalities are over." You brush him off, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice. Once you realized he was attractive, it sent all confidence out the window.

"I didn't introduce myself before panicking. I'm Damien," he switches his grip to kiss the back of your hand.

"Y/N" you blush slightly. And they say chivalry is dead.

"Well it's an honor to meet you, Y/N. Even in these circumstances of post-accident panic attack," he laughs. Wow cute laugh and he makes jokes to cope with embarrassing moments? You may have just found your soulmate. You find yourself laughing with him as he gets out of the truck.

You reach in to grab the rental agreement and your license as Damien hesitantly lets go of your hand to grab his license and registration out of his car for the officer who came to the scene. Officer has you get in your truck after the tow truck got Damien's car out of the intersection and drive you two over to the station to file the report, mainly to free up that section and get traffic going again. Damien hops in your passenger seat and gives you directions to the local station of LAPD.

"Hey, I didn't know you were moving in tonight. Do you have a job lined up out here? Where is your apartment? Did I make you late for the check-in to your hotel?" Damien flurries you with tons of questions as you catch your 4th red light in a row.

"Yes, I was moving in tonight, no not yet, I don't think the apartment is too far from here, and no hotel for me," you laugh. You continue answering his rapid fire questions as you pull into the station.

"Last question I promise, this one is kind of a crazy one," he bites his lip. You think about how there's a lot more you want that mouth to do...

"I love crazy," you smirk and he rolls his eyes, obviously getting the reference. "No but really. I mean, what sane person runs across the country away from their shitty home life and nonstop problems and chaos, everything they've ever known to start a new life?" The truck gets quiet, and you start laughing.

"Damien, it's okay. I make jokes to cope. You can laugh, it's alright," you explain as you see the concern in his eyes.

"I definitely want to unpack that but this isn't the place. Check your phone," he grins. Wow, no one has a smile that bright on the East Coast, you think. You grab your phone, seeing a new message.

Maybe: Damien- Damien would like to get dinner and be your guide to Los Angeles, the City of Angels. When are you free?

Reading his cute and corny message made you laugh. You add his number and text back.

Y/N- Y/N is free after she unpacks. Would Damien be able to help with this process? She will pay in pizza, rain check on dinner and sightseeing for only a couple days.

"I would love to help you unpack. Well, not really but I would love to see you again," he smiles. That smile makes you weak, causing you to smile back.

"It's a date, after this report gets filled out and filed," you laugh, climbing out of the truck.

He laughs, joining you. You walk together into the station.

"I want your life story tonight."

"Buy me some tequila and you'll get more than what you bargained for," you wink. Unpacking won't be so bad... you hope.

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-A