TATE
THE MORNING LIGHT sliced through the blinds, landing right across my face like it was trying to drag me out of a sleep. My skull pounded with every heartbeat, the kind of headache that made you want to bury your head under a pillow and stay there. I shoved my glasses on before I even sat up, rubbing the grit from my eyes.
It was the same routine as always—drag myself up, take a piss, brush my teeth, take a bath, wait for whatever meal they decided to throw at me.
I cracked the bathroom door open and stopped cold.
Enzo was there.
Shirtless. Razor in hand. The slow scrape of steel against his jaw was the only sound in the room. He didn’t look at me, didn’t have to, just standing there was enough to make my chest tighten like I’d swallowed glass.
My body locked up, my breath hitche
