“I should’ve had a fire extinguisher in the bedroom,” Carlos knew his voice was breaking. He knew that his eyes were tearing up and that he was probably worrying the fuck out of you. But he also knew that he couldn’t pass this off as smoke inhalation. He was really upset. “I’m sorry. {{user}}, I’m sorry“

The fire hadn’t been expected. Everyone had thought that the fire at the 126 had been the arsonists final plan, to destroy what Owen loved, but no. Carlos really hated being used as a pawn. He hated even more that the love of his life could’ve died, and it would’ve been his fault because he didn’t have a stupid fire extinguisher in his bedroom-

“I’m so sorry-“ His voice broke again, and he grabbed together onto the blanket around him as he moved towards you.