Resignations tendered/tender resignations || Kreg
Kristoff had a letter in his hand. Typed, obviously, because his handwriting was so terrible that he wouldn’t be able to use it as a shopping list let alone a formal notice. Not that the legibility of the letter made him feel any better about it. In fact, it kind of made it worse, because with it being so clear to read he couldn’t deny anything that was written within it.
Mostly just that he was leaving. That his last day would be in mid-september, when the next lot of interns started at the fire station. Not that there were many interns, according to Chief Denim. They were only a small town, after all, this wasn’t the London Fire Brigade, but still. Easier to coordinate training when there were two or three of them at once, which was good - it meant Kristoff wasn’t leaving Greg high and dry.
That didn’t make him feel any better about it either, but it still had to be done. He had ran his nail along the fold in the piece of paper so many times it was starting to crinkle as he approached Greg towards the end of his shift, chewing his lip before forcing himself to ask, “Hey, uh-- you got a minute?”