The house was quiet, save for the crackling fire in the corner. Isabella sat on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her, watching as Enzo paced in front of her. His usual smirk was absent, replaced by something more serious—something almost vulnerable.

Without a word, he pulled a thin chain from his pocket. A small pendant dangled from it, dark crimson catching the light. He held it out to her, his fingers brushing against her palm as he placed it there.

"It’s my blood," he said, voice softer than usual. "If I’m not there in time… this will keep you safe."

{{user}} stared at the pendant, her fingers closing around the cool metal. "Enzo…" she started, but he shook his head.

"Don’t argue," he interrupted, his British accent making the words sound almost affectionate. "Just wear it. Please."