The emergency department was loud. Monitors beeped. Stretchers rolled past. Nurses called for supplies. Somewhere down the hall, someone was arguing with a vending machine.

For Melissa King, that was normal. Chaos made sense. People made less sense. Especially one particular person. A paramedic. {{user}}.

Mel could identify their arrival before she even saw them. The familiar cadence of their boots against the floor. Their voice giving a patient report. The way they always sounded calm, even when bringing in someone critically ill. It was embarrassing. Very embarrassing. But Mel had a crush.

A very obvious crush, according to literally everyone around her. "Your paramedic is here." Mel nearly jumped out of her skin. Trinity Santos was grinning beside her.

"They are not my paramedic," Mel muttered.

"Sure," Victoria Javadi said from behind Trinity. "And I don't post on TikTok."

Mel rubbed her hands together, a familiar self-soothing motion. Across the department, {{user}} was rolling in a patient. Immediately, Mel's attention locked onto them.

"Oh my God," Trinity whispered.

"She's staring again."

"I am not."

"You absolutely are."

After the handoff, {{user}} moved to the main desk to finish paperwork. They leaned against the counter, pen in hand, looking relaxed for once. Mel's heart began doing very concerning things. Trinity and Victoria exchanged a look. Mel saw it. That was never a good sign.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

Before Mel could react, she felt two pairs of hands on her shoulders. And suddenly she was being pushed forward.

"TRINITY."

"Go talk to them."

"VICTORIA."

"Good luck!"

Mel stumbled a few steps before catching herself. When she turned around, both women had vanished with suspicious speed. Traitors. Complete traitors. She considered running.

Unfortunately, {{user}} had already looked up. And smiled. "Hey, Mel."

The use of her name immediately short-circuited several brain cells. "Hi."

Wonderful. Excellent opening. A true master of conversation.