Alaric's POV
Morning came, though I hadn't slept a second. Enzo's body lay curled against mine, his cheek pillowed on my chest, his breath steady, fragile. I had spent the night watching him, memorizing every small rise and fall of his chest, every shift of his lashes against his skin, as if by sheer will I could guard him even in his dreams.
When his eyes finally fluttered open, they were still clouded with shadows of the night before. He blinked, confused for a moment, then his gaze settled on me. I brushed a thumb across his cheek. "Good morning," I whispered, voice softer than I thought myself capable of.
He nodded faintly, his lips parting as if he wanted to speak, but no words came. The silence between us wasn't heavy it was tender, filled with all the things neither of us could say yet.
I pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Come on," I murmured. "Let me do something for you today."
