Chapter 23: When did I agree to be your boyfriend?
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.
While I waited, I headed to the bathroom for a long, hot bath. I scrubbed myself with more force than necessary like if I just cleaned myself hard enough, maybe the restlessness in my chest would wash away too.
By the time I got out and dressed, the pizza guy was already at the door. I paid, muttered a quick thanks, and shut it behind me. That’s when I noticed it.
There was someone sitting in my living room.
At first, I thought maybe Alaric had used his spare key. But the room was dark, the lights off, and this person this silhouette wasn’t Alaric. I couldn’t explain how I knew. I just... did. The posture was wrong. The energy in the room was all wrong.
My hand tightened around the pizza box. "Who are you? How did you get in here?"
The figure stood, unhurried. His voice was smooth, controlled, unnervingly calm. "Who I am doesn’t matter." He started walking toward me slowly, deliberate steps echoing against the hardwood. "What matters is that you stay away from Alaric. You don’t belong in his world. You’re from two different classes. You’ll never be the same."
I blinked at him, the absurdity of his words nearly making me laugh if my pulse wasn’t hammering so hard in my neck. "And who the hell are you to come into my house and tell me what to do? Alaric’s an adult. He makes his own choices."