My Firefighter

t w o

Beep...

Beep...

Beep...

Beep..

What is that awful beeping noise, and why won't it stop...?!

I peak open my eyes, but shut them right away after I decide the light is just too bright.

But the beeping is continuing, and quite frankly it's annoying the heck out of me, so...here's to the second try!

This time, I open my eyes and leave them open. I blink I few times to adjust, and then I look around.

White walls, white floors, I'm on a white bed, under white sheets. A clear bag with water is hanging above my head, with a little tube running down to the IV placed in my arm. I didn't even feel it when I woke up, but now I notice it, and it's irritating.

Beep...

Ah-ha! There, near the wall to my left is the beeping contraption. It's one of those heart rate monitor things, right?

I'm in a hospital bedroom.

That should have made my panic and freak out, like "what the hell?! Am I dying!? How?!"

But I don't panic at all.

I remember the fire at our house. Was it yesterday? I don't know how long I've been out.

My arms are bandaged, and I'm not really sure how I cut them. Or were they burnt?

"You didn't burn them."

Did I ask that aloud?

Wait, who answered..?

-holy shit!!!

My heart just jumped to my throat, and I don't think I've whipped my head around that fast in all my life!

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you, haha! I honestly thought you'd seen me already."

The deep voice chuckles at me, and I focus on its owner.

It's coming from the good looking firefighter, sitting in one of the arm chairs in the corner of the room.

I died...

I must have died and am therefore in heaven, because HOLY MOTHER F-

"Uhm..." Is all that comes out.

"Oh yeah, I'm Tristan. If you're wondering, you blacked out when a beam of wood hit you on the head. And your arms might sting, but the glass from the blown up window just grazed your arms. The doctor said it's nothing serious."

"Oh. Wait, how did you know I blacked out?"

I'm asking these stupid questions, as if the clear firefighter uniform isn't a giveaway.

My brain isn't functioning very smoothing at the moment. Probably because the most attractive guy I've ever had the blessing to lay my eyes on, is sitting in this room. Talking. Talking to ME!

"I'm part of the volunteer squad. I saw it hit you in the head. I was about to call for you, but you went out cold before I could yell. Me and some other guys from the fire department pulled you and your parents out."

My parents!!! I forgot about them!!!

Gee Alex, you forget your parents in the house, AND in the hospital.

"My parents, are they alright?"

"Oh yeah, just fine. They weren't hurt at all, just worried about you."

"Thanks for telling me."

"Sure!"

"So, why are you here again?"

Tristan? That's his name, right? Well hot damn, now that I'm paying more attention, his parents certainly did their job.

He looks about my age, which is probably not true. He's probably in his twenties, just has a youthful face. He's wearing a navy blue Fire Department T-shirt, with whatever his fireproof pants are called, and the classic red suspenders. His arms and chest are the definition of what perfection is. You can literally see the muscles through his shirt. (Not that I'm staring or anything). He has short and wavy dark brown hair, forest green eyes, an extremely sexy strong jaw, and as he's laughing at my question, I can see his perfect dimples.

"Well I was already at the hospital checking on one of my friends, when your parents asked me to wait here while they got coffee."

At this moment I just begin to think about how I must be looking. No makeup, a nasty hospital gown, and I won't even start to think of my hair. I also really feel the need to brush my teeth now. I feel extremely nasty looking, but that's not to be helped. Oh well.

"Ah, that makes sense. How's your friend? What happened to him?"

"Nothing really. The dummy stepped on a giant nail without the right shoes on. He'll live. Just some stitches."

Right as I begin to reply, the door flys open, and in comes my mother, with my father trailing behind.

"Oh dear God- my baby's alright!"

Before I can blink, I have a sobbing woman of 42 holding me tighter than healthy.

"Mom, mom I'm fine. You're fine. Dad's fine. Everyone is fine!"

My dad chimes in, "Well, everyone but the house!"

"Rodger, don't bring up troublesome thoughts right now, please! She's just woke up!"

Tristan clears his throat, reminding the room he's still here.

Not that I'd ever complain or anything...

"Well, I'll be leaving now. Hope everything works out for your house sir. Mrs. Miles, I'm sorry about the house."

Damn...And there it is, the goodbyes.

He and my dad shake hands and exchange a smile, then he leaves. Turning at the door he gives me one killer smile and nod, and I'm pretty sure my face is redder than those sexy suspenders he was wearing.

"Honey, you can leave whenever you want. I'll go check out with the doctor, you and your dad come when you're all set."

My mom leaves, and my dad and I follow shortly after. I'm not quite sure of the details, but in the car ride to the hotel, my parents explain how the house caught fire.

It had something to do with the fireplace being old, and since we had just moved in, we forgot to check if it had been cleaned out, or something like that. So when we used it last night, it caught something in the chimney on fire, therefore leading to the entire house catching.

So now we're living in a hotel for who knows how long. Since my room was upstairs, and they put the fire out before it got to my room, all my cloths and things were saved and moved into the hotel.

The only good thing.

And tomorrow, I start my first day at my new Highschool.

But my mind can't help wander back to my firefighter...

Tristan. Tristan the firefighter. It has a nice ring to it.

Oh well. I won't see him ever again. Well, unless...? Nah, setting fire to the hotel would probably be too forward of me. I guess I'll just be happy for knowing he probably carried me out of the house. Yep. Those are some good memories I'll just pretend I actually remember.