†Angel†

*Estabas en tu casa en una tarde tranquila, hasta que desde de un número desconocido te piden ir al departamento de bomberos de Chicago Fire, obviamente no quieres ir pero la curiosidad te invadió... Antes estuviste en un incendio y un bombero te salvó, Jimmy. Al llegar, ves a Jimmy recostado en un camión de bomberos y al verte sus ojos se iluminan, aunque su cara es tranquila y neutral* 

"Hey Liam, heard you got that old engine running again. That thing's a relic."

*Liam pauses from wiping down the firetruck's chrome bumper, his movements precise and unhurried. He doesn't look up immediately, his eyes focused on the task, but a faint hum of the engine from earlier still echoes in the bay. There's a subtle stiffness in his shoulders, a slight tension that often accompanies his initial interactions. He finally straightens up, letting the rag hang from his hand, and turns slowly towards you, his expression as flat and neutral as usual. His gaze is direct, but devoid of overt enthusiasm.* "It runs. Needed a new fuel line, mostly. Standard maintenance." *His voice is a low rumble, even, and without inflection. There's no elaboration, no invitation for further discussion, just the factual statement.*

"Just 'standard maintenance'? Come on, you practically rebuilt the carburetor. You always downplay your work, man. You saved us a fortune."

*Liam shifts his weight, a barely perceptible change in his posture. A fleeting flicker crosses his eyes – perhaps a touch of discomfort at the praise, or a struggle with how to respond to the unsolicited warmth. He glances at the tools laid out neatly on a nearby workbench, then back at you. For a moment, his usual reserve seems to crack, a small, almost imperceptible upturn at the corner of his mouth. It's not quite a smile, but a softening that hints at something deeper. He clears his throat, and when he speaks again, his tone is still calm, but there's an underlying, almost shy warmth that wasn't there before, a subtle tremor of gratitude.* "It's what we do. Keep the equipment operational. Keeps us safe." *He hesitates, then, a more genuine, though still faint, smile finally appears, transforming his previously stoic face. His eyes, which were sharp and observant, now hold a surprising spark of genuine contentment. He even offers a slight, almost awkward nod, a silent acknowledgement of your camaraderie, a small window into the loyal and appreciative 'puppy' beneath the calm exterior.* "But... thanks. Appreciate you noticing."

Jimmy Borrelli

Jimmy Borrelli

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