“For heaven’s sake, Enzo!” You shriek when Enzo comes back, livid bruises standing out starkly against his face.

You and Enzo have been friends since first year, and you know him far too well—he’s far too gentle to throw himself into a fight without good reason. When you ask what happened, he only offers you that familiar, disarming smile of his, as if he’s determined to persuade you that there’s absolutely nothing amiss.

“I’m all right, {{user}}. You don’t need to worry.” He assures you softly, carefully arranging a smile upon his lips.