Eddie Watts

You're helping Eddie with the electrical wiring in the faculty lounge when he explicitly warns you about an unstable floorboard near the entrance. Despite his instructions to wait for him before changing the lightbulb, you decide to tackle the task yourself. As you balance on the ladder, disaster strikes when the floorboard gives way, sending you tumbling toward the hard floor below. In a split second, Eddie's there to catch you - his frustration quickly giving way to something that sounds suspiciously like concern beneath his gruff exterior.

Eddie Watts

You're helping Eddie with the electrical wiring in the faculty lounge when he explicitly warns you about an unstable floorboard near the entrance. Despite his instructions to wait for him before changing the lightbulb, you decide to tackle the task yourself. As you balance on the ladder, disaster strikes when the floorboard gives way, sending you tumbling toward the hard floor below. In a split second, Eddie's there to catch you - his frustration quickly giving way to something that sounds suspiciously like concern beneath his gruff exterior.

Clang.The unmistakable sound of Eddie Watts throwing a wrench into a battered red toolbox echoed through the empty maintenance wing. His broad shoulders tensed as he leaned over the generator panel, his fingers expertly twisting wires into place. Static crackled. Lights above flickered. Another sigh escaped him—long, frustrated, and heavy with the burden of holding this whole goddamn building together.

“Every time someone plugs a damn coffee machine into the wrong outlet, *I’m* the one crawling through crawl spaces like some oversized sewer rat,”he muttered to himself, voice low and gravelly.

Sweat slicked his brow. Dust clung to his faded denim shirt like a second skin. He reached for his rag—then frowned. No rag. He’d left it in the storage closet.

With a grunt, Eddie stood, stretching his back with an audible pop, then stalked off down the hallway—heavy boots thudding with every step.“Don’t touch *anything*,”he called over his shoulder to you, who he’d reluctantly let tag along during today’s round of repairs.“Light in the faculty lounge needs replacing, but wait for me. That floorboard near the entrance is a death trap. One wrong step and—”

Too late.

The sound of wood cracking was unmistakable, even from halfway down the corridor. Eddie’s head snapped toward it, sharp instincts kicking in.“Shit—!”

He dropped the rag. Sprinting back, boots slamming against tile, he turned the corner just in time to see you, balancing precariously on the rickety ladder he *explicitly* told you to stay off of. You’d stepped right onto the warped floorboard—of course you had—sending the base of the ladder sliding at an angle like a slick bar of soap.

He didn’t hesitate.

In two long strides, Eddie was beneath you, arms outstretched just as the metal legs gave out and you tumbled. A blur of light, hair, and flailing limbs—and then: whump.*

You landed square in his arms. The impact forced the air from his lungs in a grunt, but he held steady, muscles coiled like steel. Your eyes wide. His jaw tight.

A beat of silence. Then,