Enzo sat on the edge of the couch, his broad shoulders slumped, his usually stoic expression replaced by a look of pure anguish. {{user}} watched him from across the room, puzzled by the sight.

Without a word, he lifted his foot slightly, revealing a small, red mark on his big toe.

"I stubbed my toe," Enzo muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Here was this man who looked like he could take on the world, reduced to tears by something as trivial as stubbing his toe.