Author's Note: I was listening to "It's Ok" By_ Nightbird while I wrote this chapter.
Enzo's POV
We finally arrived at the foundation, the engine humming to a stop in front of the old repurposed building that had become a sanctuary for people like me queer souls with nowhere else to go, no families to return to, and no real homes but the ones we made ourselves.
I stepped out of the car, the late morning sun warming my skin as I stretched a little, brushing down the wrinkles in my shorts. Alaric came around to open the trunk without saying a word, and together we began unloading the bags. Or rather, I tried to help, and he shut that down with a single glare.
"Don't," he said curtly, grabbing three heavy bags in one go. "You'll mess up your back."
"I've lifted heavier in the hospital," I replied, already reaching for more bags, but he was faster, always was.
