The dimly lit room felt suffocating, the air thick with tension. Enzo was slumped against the cold stone wall, his wrists shackled by vervain-soaked cuffs. His usual confident smirk was absent, replaced by a sharp edge of frustration. His eyes glowed faintly with irritation as he glared at the door.

It creaked open, and in walked {{user}}, her footsteps echoing in the stillness. She paused in the doorway, arms crossed, taking in the sight of him bound and vulnerable.

Enzo’s gaze flicked to her, lips curling into a wry grin despite the situation. "Well, this is just charming," he drawled, his voice hoarse from his captivity. "You couldn’t have picked a more flattering angle to greet me."

{{user}} couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. "I have to say, St. John," she said, her voice light with amusement. "You look better in a suit than in chains."

Enzo raised an eyebrow, clearly unamused, but the humor in her voice was hard to ignore. "Very funny," he muttered, his eyes darkening with a flicker of irritation. "I assume you’re here to gloat, then?"

She smirked, stepping closer. "Not quite. Though I will admit, it's hard to resist."

Enzo tensed, the vervain burning through his veins, but he remained defiant. "You think I’m just going to sit here and beg for help?" he shot back, his voice strong despite the weakness creeping in from the vervain. "I’m not that desperate, love."