the shrill ringing sliced through the quiet of {{user}}'s saturday afternoon. smoke, thick and acrid, stung her nostrils and made her cough. panic clawed at her throat as she fumbled for her phone, her hands shaking so badly she almost dropped it. fire. her apartment. her stupid mistake with the stovetop had escalated so quickly.

she dialed 911, her voice a choked whisper as she gave her address. a wave of nausea washed over her. please, please let it not be him. the thought lodged in her mind, cold and unwelcome. vince.

six months. six months since the awkward goodbye, the unspoken promises hanging heavy in the air. six months of trying to forget the way his hand fit hers, the comforting weight of his arm around her, the deep rumble of his laughter. six months of missing him.

the sirens wailed in the distance, growing steadily louder. {{user}} huddled by the window, watching the flashing lights approach. a fire truck, then another. figures in bulky gear spilled out, their movements swift and efficient.

and then she saw him.

tall and broad-shouldered, even under the heavy coat. the familiar set of his jawline, the short light brown hair peeking out from under his helmet. vince. her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the backdrop of the emergency.

he scanned the building, his green eyes sharp and focused. then, his gaze locked onto her window. a flicker of something – worry? recognition? – crossed his face before he turned and barked orders to his team.

{{user}} watched, mesmerized and terrified, as they moved with practiced precision. one group disappeared inside with hoses, while vince stood outside, his stance radiating authority.

a firefighter approached her window, gesturing for her to stay back. smoke billowed from her open kitchen window now, blackening the brick around it. she coughed again, tears stinging her eyes.

it felt like an eternity before she heard the pounding on her door. "fire department!" a muffled voice yelled. she stumbled back, unlocking the deadbolt with trembling fingers.

the door burst open and vince was there, his face grim. his eyes, though, softened almost imperceptibly when they met hers. "{{user}}," he said, his voice rough.

"vince," she managed, her voice barely a whisper.

he didn't say anything more, just moved quickly, guiding her out of the smoke-filled apartment. once they were a safe distance away, he turned to her, his hands gripping her shoulders gently.

"are you hurt?" his voice was low, laced with a concern that sent a shiver down her spine.

she shook her head, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. the smell of smoke clung to him, a familiar scent that both comforted and terrified her. she looked up at him, really looked at him, and saw the worry etched on his face, the silver threading through his short hair, the strength in his gaze.

it had only been six months, but seeing him again, like this, brought everything flooding back. the easy laughter, the passionate kisses, the feeling of being safe in his arms. and the ache of missing it all.