My mom gave me a stern talk, saying that with only two semesters left before graduation, I was practically an adult and needed to step up.
So, I finally gave in, bought some fruit and milk tea, and headed to the city fire station to show my appreciation.
I was on edge the entire way there.
As soon as I got off the bus and spotted the firefighters standing at the entrance, my legs felt like they might buckle.
I wasn’t sure what drove me to go inside, but one of the firefighters said that if I hadn’t seemed so innocent and brought gifts, he might have thought I was suspicious.
I was really grateful for that.
Soon, a tall, dark-skinned man approached with a friendly smile and took the gifts from my hands. I flexed my reddened fingers, hesitating as I asked, “Is there a firefighter named Nathan here?”
“Yes, I’ll get him for you.”
Nathan didn’t recognize me at first, probably because my face was still smeared with soot from the fire.
This encounter felt even more awkward than the last one.
I was so nervous that I spilled milk tea on my skirt, turning the cute dress I had carefully chosen into a mess.
Nathan looked momentarily stunned, probably not used to such an awkward situation.
He quickly composed himself and, with a gentle smile, said, “Let me help you get cleaned up.”
I followed him to the restroom, trying to ignore how his broad shoulders seemed to block out the world.
He handed me a dry towel and then stepped out.
I stared at the towel for a while before finally cleaning the stains from my skirt. It was still damp, but it was the best I could manage.
When I came out, Nathan was waiting by the door with a jacket. My anxiety surged again.
Seeing me, Nathan awkwardly cleared his throat and handed me the jacket. “Here, put this on.”
“Hmm?” I didn’t get it at first.
Nathan sighed softly, took a few steps toward me, and crouched down.
I was stunned, barely able to breathe.
Looking down, I saw his striking features up close. His tanned skin, a result of years of training, didn’t take away from his good looks.
His muscular forearm, with prominent veins, showed off his masculine charm.
He tied the jacket around my waist, and as he was doing it, he said, “Your waist is really small.”
It sounded a bit flirtatious, but he was so straightforward and genuine that I figured I was just overthinking it.
Compared to his broad build, I did seem pretty petite.
Maybe he was just making an observation.