Enzo's POV
I stepped into my apartment, my head still spinning from everything that had happened. HR told me to take a few days off "clear your head," they said. Honestly, I didn't even argue. I needed the time. My mind felt like it had been pulled in a hundred directions, each more confusing than the last.
I tossed myself onto the couch with a sigh, one arm slung over my eyes. The silence of the apartment felt heavier than usual. My stomach grumbled in protest, but the idea of actually cooking felt impossible. God, this would've been the perfect time for Alaric to show up out of nowhere and make me a sandwich. He did that sometimes swept in like a storm, left chaos and comfort in his wake.
Dragging myself to the kitchen, I poured a glass of water and leaned against the counter. The emptiness gnawed at me, so I fished out my phone from my back pocket and placed an order for pizza. Something simple, greasy, comforting.
