Tristan's eyes fell on the blonde as she jumped on top of him, her cheeks now tinting a soft pink. He smiled a little as she tilted her head to the side, running her eyes over his face, probably trying to guess his age, like he did with her. The blonde walked over and kissed her daughter's head. “Johanna, take Katrina inside for me?” she asked the babysitter. Nodding, she put an arm around Katrina's shoulders, leading her inside. The blonde turned to Tristan again, running her fingers through his thick locks. She gave him a sheepish smile. “Rylinn.” » She spoke, her voice calmer now. He raised an eyebrow and she smiled a little. “Rylinn. My name is Rylinn Westmens. » she replied, repeating herself. Tristan nodded and shook her hand, admiring her clean look. A black pencil skirt, a white button-down shirt tucked into the skirt and heels to bring it all together. He swallowed, trying to clear the lump in his throat. His girlfriend of five years had broken up with him barely a week ago and here he was lusting after a blonde with a kid, hell, she was probably married. But then something caught his eye under his winter jacket. A badge? A shiny golden badge protruded from him. He had a hard time imagining him as a detective or a cop, but he didn't look like a doctor and yet he was, so who knows. He tilted his head to the side before she gave him another smile. "Dr. Armenta que..." he cut in with a hand of his hand. "Mrs. Westmens, everything is fine, really. And you can call me Tristan, I do." I live nearby, remember? and this smile appeared, this arrogant smile, slightly arrogant but still so charming. She stopped and grabbed her once forgotten purse that she had dropped on the hallway floor when she entered the house... middle of paper. .....e and five hours of sleep, he tagged one of the last patients when an ambulance crew rushed to "a 30-year-old woman, two GSWs, one in the shoulder, one to the abdomen. Blood pressure is--" he didn't. I heard nonsense after that as two nurses and a fellow doctor helped lift her off the gurney and into the emergency room bed. Donning a yellow coat and a pair of clear rubber gloves, the nurses hooked up the IVs and took the stats and his vitals. A nurse opened his shirt down the front. Two bloody, compressed wounds looked back at him. A pair of green eyes opened and Tristan froze, his heart feeling like it was about to stop. “Rylinn?” His eyes found his before he heard the alarm on his monitor go off, beeping like crazy. "Tristan? Tristan!" a nurse shouted. Someone nudged him. Tristan! Focus!" a redheaded nurse shouted at him. His eyes found the monitors and widened. "She's coding! Give me a crash cart!" he shouted.