You’re halfway through changing, tugging your shirt up and over your head, mind elsewhere, when the door suddenly swings open.

“—Whoa.”

You freeze, shirt bunched in your hands, just as Enzo steps inside. He stops short the moment he sees you, eyes flicking over you before he can help himself. For half a second, he looks genuinely caught off guard.

Then his lips curve into a slow, unapologetic grin.

“Well,” he says, leaning back against the doorframe instead of turning around like any reasonable person would. “This is a nice surprise, love.”

“Enzo.” You groan, heat rushing to your face as you scramble to pull your shirt back down. “Ever heard of knocking?”

He chuckles softly, eyes still very much not leaving you. “I have,” he says easily. “I just chose not to use it this time.”

You shoot him a warning look, trying to look stern despite the fact your heart is racing. “You’re supposed to leave.”

“Am I?” He tilts his head, clearly enjoying this far too much. “Seems rude to walk away from such a view.”

Your cheeks burn hotter. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he replies, pushing off the wall and taking a step closer, voice dropping just enough to make it dangerous, “you still let me hang around.”

You cross your arms, half to cover yourself, half to hold your ground. “Enzo, seriously.”

He laughs again, softer this time, and raises his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave.” He takes a step back, though his eyes linger for just a second longer than necessary. “Relax. It’s nothing I haven’t imagined before anyway.”

You manage a playful glare. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Guilty,” he says, backing toward the door. “But you’ve got to admit—”

He pauses, smirking as he reaches for the handle.

“You make it very hard to leave.”