Enzo's POV
I had decided to do some shopping before heading to the foundation today. Something about giving, about preparing everything personally, made it feel more real more mine. The mall was buzzing with life, people weaving through aisles, the hum of chatter mixing with the soft overhead music. Alaric and I were in the heart of it all, weaving between shelves, carts already full to the brim with food, bottled water, snacks, medical supplies, books, painting kits, canvases, and more.
Alaric didn't complain once. He just pushed the overloaded carts behind me, silent but steady my silent enabler. His presence alone was grounding.
"What else do you need?" he asked, his voice smooth, calm, but with that underlying note of amusement. He'd probably noticed the way I kept glancing back at the shelves, lingering in place even though we'd already collected enough to last two weeks.
I blinked at the carts, then back at him. "I don't know… is this going to be enough?"
