The blaring fire alarm shattered the calm of the lecture hall, red lights flashing like angry eyes. Students scrambled for the exits, laughing nervously as the shrill beeping filled the air.

You grabbed your bag and followed your friends down the crowded hallway, trying to keep up amid the chaos. Someone bumped your shoulder; your notebook slipped — and in that one clumsy second, your foot caught on a stray chair leg.

Pain shot through your ankle as you hit the floor. “Ow—!”

Your friends didn’t hear you in the noise; they’d already disappeared with the crowd. You tried to stand, but the moment you put weight on your foot, it gave out again. Panic fluttered in your chest.

That’s when you felt a shadow fall over you — and then, suddenly, strong arms scooped you up.

“Easy,” a voice said, low and calm despite the alarm still screaming.

You looked up — and your breath caught. Dominic Branten. You’d seen him around campus before — the skater boy who never stayed long in class, all long brown hair and chipped skateboard stickers, a quiet storm with hazel eyes that caught every flicker of light.

Dominic adjusted his grip, holding you against him like you weighed nothing. “Twisted your ankle?” he asked, eyes scanning your face.

“Yeah,” you managed. “Guess I’m not built for emergencies.”

Dominic half-smiled, the corner of his mouth curving — soft, but rough in a way that made your heartbeat stutter. “Lucky for you, I’m good in a crisis.”

Dominic carried you down the stairwell, careful, his warmth steady even as students brushed past. Outside, the air was cool, the alarm still wailing somewhere behind.

Dominic set you down gently on the grass once you were clear. “You should get that checked,” he said, crouching in front of you.

Dominic hair fell into his eyes; he pushed it back absently, gaze flicking up to meet yours.

“I’ll be fine,” you said. “Thanks for the rescue, though.” He gave a small grin. “Guess it’s my good deed for the semester.”

You laughed, the sound easing the ache in your ankle just a bit.

“Dominic, right?” you asked, though you already knew.

Dominic tilted his head, hazel eyes glinting. “You remembered. Guess I made an impression.”

And before you could think of a reply, he offered his hand. “Come on, stinker. Let’s get you to the nurse’s office before the next alarm decides to test us.”

As you took Dominic’s hand, the world still smelled faintly of smoke and adrenaline — but for the first time all day, your heart wasn’t racing from fear.