BURNOUT! ━ 911.

fourteen.

   After Ellis got home and assisted her with keeping her leg stuck out of her shower, Ollie felt the weight of all of the social interaction that day weighing on her shoulders, falling onto her bed with a soft grunt. She knew she was hanging off of it halfway, but the blankets beneath her felt too comfortable, her eyes drifting close in exhaustion.

    Just as she was drifting away, she was jolted awake by the feeling of her phone buzzing beside her hand. Sighing softly, she reached out, turning it over to take a glance at the caller ID. With one brush of a finger, she answered the call, pressing the speaker button. "Miss me already, Maddie Bell?"

    "Buck's on his way to your apartment." Maddie's voice rang through her room, causing her to groan and sit up, rubbing at her eyes.

    "What the hell does he want? He just saw me. I look the same. I'm not dead. Send him home."

    Maddie sighed, the sound of rustling coming through the phone. "He's not with me. He's gone."

    Ollie stood up, rolling out her shoulders before stepping out of her bedroom just as rampant knocks rang out. "He's not gone. He's outside my door. Thanks for the not-late-at-all warning, Mads." She hung up, taking a deep breath before laying her hand on the doorknob, opening with a groan. "Evan Buckley."

    "I don't want Taylor Kelly." The man in front of her blurted, his blue eyes surprisingly wide. His hair was mussy, like his hand had been through it multiple times, and the collar of his shirt had flipped inside out.

    Her eyebrows furrowed as her eyes finally made their way back to his. "Okay? That's important enough to come all the way here when I'm about to sleep?"

    "No, I mean..." Buck groaned, trailing off as he marched his way into her apartment, his hand moving through his hair again and confirming her suspicion. Ollie shut the door behind him, turning to face him with annoyance painted across her face. "I don't want her. I don't want any woman at that bar."

    "Are you coming out to me right now?" Ollie grunted, crossing her arms over her chest. "Congrats! We found gay love in a karaoke bar!"

    Evan fixed her with a stern stare, shaking his head. "Dammit, Ollie." He stepped forward, his cologne wrapping around her like a lasso, drawing her in before she even knew it. "I don't want any woman at that bar, because I want you. I wanted you before you ran out of my life, and I want you now that you are back in it. I cannot do this friendship thing with you. I-I mean, not that I would rather not be around you... Oh, fuck it." He cut himself off as he breezed forward, invading her space just as his hands cupped her face, bringing his own down to his level.

    Many people know the feeling of stepping into your childhood bedroom after moving out years before. Everything looks different than you imagined when you thought of it, but it's familiar in vague ways. As you look around, you remember more and more, until it's exactly what you remember and nostalgia hits you like a freight train.

    Ollie never got to know what stepping back into her childhood bedroom felt like – but kissing Evan Buckley was what she thought would be the closest thing.

    Her arms moved up just as his hands traveled downward, curling around his neck and pulling him closer just as his fingers dug into her hips, doing the exact same thing. They moved smoothly together, just like they had years before, and yet it was noticeable that things had changed. They were older and more mature, taller and more grown. Calluses littered their hands from years of firefighting and Ollie felt the urge to trace the entirety of him with her fingers, to figure out what else had changed and to replace her memory of Buck's body with an updated one.