My apartment was suffocatingly quiet. Being forced onto medical leave with a fractured tibia and bruised ribs was my own personal hell. I was used to saving people, not staring at the ceiling and waiting for my pain meds to kick in.

When a sharp knock echoed through my living room, I groaned, hobbling to the door on my crutches. I swung it open and froze.

It was Hayes. But he wasn't Captain Hayes of Engine 42. He was wearing a soft, faded gray thermal Henley that stretched tight across his broad chest, worn-in dark denim jeans, and scuffed boots. His messy black hair was damp from the rain. He held a Tupperware container in one hand.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, completely bewildered by the sight of him in civilian clothes.

"Checking on you," he said, walking past me like he owned the place and gently setting the container on my kitchen counter. "Chicken stew. My grandmother's recipe."

"I don't need your pity, Hayes."

He turned around, his expression softening in a way I had never seen in the chaotic ER. He gently took the crutches from my hands and guided me to the couch. "I see enough broken things on the job, Clara. I just wanted to make sure you were actually putting yourself back together."

Over the next week, he kept coming back. He fixed my leaky sink, made me tea, and listened to me complain about missing work. Stripped of his uniform, the stone-cold firefighter melted away, revealing a fiercely protective, quietly gentle man who somehow knew exactly how to care for me.

Who knew the iceman could be so domestic?! 🍲 Seeing Hayes out of uniform and taking such tender care of Clara is giving us all the butterflies! 😭 Are you falling for his soft side too? Hit ❤️ if you love this cozy forced proximity, and tell us your favorite part below! 👇