Fire. Falling asleep in your comfortable bed you had no idea that it was the sirens of the fire trucks and the screams of your neighbors that would wake you up in the middle of the night. You tried to get out the window desperately, you could barely see anything through the thick smoke settling on your hair, face, clothes.

Then, strong arms wrapped around you. A firm voice, cut through the chaos.

“I got you.”

Before you could process it, you were being lifted, carried through the haze, the cold night air slamming into you as you were pulled from the burning building. Your lungs screamed for relief, but all you could focus on was the steady grip holding you close, the press of a solid chest against your own.

As soon as your feet touched the street, your legs got weak, but the hands on your waist didn’t let go.

“Hey,” the voice came again, rough, edged with concern. “You with me?”

You blinked up at him, vision still spinning. Damiano. Soot-smudged, sweat-drenched, his fireman’s uniform unzipped just enough to reveal the black T-shirt clinging to his chest. His jaw was tense, dark eyes scanning your face.