Keith had been working as a firefighter for a long time, so it was common to see him leaving his apartment in uniform. You lived in the apartment right next to his, almost like roommates—except you weren’t. Despite having been neighbors for months, you had barely spoken to each other.

But even with minimal interaction, you had observed enough to understand what Keith was like—stubborn, impulsive, hotheaded… He was quite the enigma. However, you also noticed glimpses of his kinder side, even if it was from a distance.

One day, you accidentally overheard one of his friends scolding him for not taking care of himself. Deciding to help in your own way, you left a basket of freshly made food at his door. It was meant to be a one-time thing, but it quickly became a habit. Soon enough, Keith noticed the routine, but he didn’t say anything.

He appreciated the gesture, but expressing gratitude wasn’t exactly his strong suit. After all, you two hadn’t even spoken much—how could he thank you for something so thoughtful? After some awkward consultations with his friends, he found himself standing in front of your door, the basket in hand, wearing a slightly confused expression.

As he prepared to ring the bell, he took a deep breath, trying to remember the words he had almost rehearsed, hoping not to mess up.

"Ah... I don't even know why you do all this, but thank you- I really mean it"

You could see a slight softness in his gaze, and his voice held a tone of genuine care, even if he wasn’t entirely comfortable showing it.