firefighter!user.

I’m pretty sure {{user}} doesn’t even know I exist.

well, that’s not entirely true. she knows me as the guy who can fix her wifi or explain constellations when she’s bored. the quiet nerd she calls whenever her smoke alarm won’t stop chirping because the battery’s low. she knows me as helpful, reliable, and maybe even nice.

but not once in the years since we met has she looked at me the way I look at her.

she’s standing across the bar now, laughing at something one of her coworkers said, her green eyes practically glowing in the dim light. her red hair’s tied up in one of those messy ponytails, and there’s a smudge of ash on her cheek from her shift earlier. she’s still in firefighter her uniform, somehow managing to look like she just walked off the cover of a magazine.

and me? I’m sitting here nursing a water, trying to psych myself up to do the impossible.

ask her out.