Control

23 - If We're Being Honest (Enzo POV)

a/n - smut in two chapters! :D Also, both of the next chapters are up on the patreon right now. This one is a little short but still pretty fun, and more of a build up to Alexander and Ellie FINALLY talking it out. Let me know what you think's going to happen next!

I don't hurry when I get back to the penthouse.

I unlock the door, step inside, and lock it behind me. The sound is familiar. Solid. I pause with my hand still on the handle longer than usual, my shoulders tight like my body already knows something's off.

I take my shoes off and set them where they always go, toeing them into a straight line without really thinking. My fingers feel stiff as I hang my jacket over the chair. The fabric drags against the wood. I drop my keys into the tray and the clink is louder than it should be in the quiet.

Alexander turns his head toward me like he's been waiting for the sound.

"How is she," he asks.

I don't answer right away. I look at him instead. He's standing in the kitchen like he doesn't trust himself to sit down, one hand flat on the counter, knuckles pale. His coffee is untouched. His face looks drawn in a way it hadn't this morning.

Vince is on the couch. One arm stretched along the back, ankle crossed over his knee. He looks calm enough at first glance, eyes half-lidded, expression neutral. If I didn't know him, I might think he was bored.

"She's home," I say finally. "Eddie too."

"That's not what I asked," Alexander says, and his voice tightens at the end, like he hates that it does.

I exhale through my nose, slow. "She's fine."

Alexander flinches like I slapped him with the words.

"Enzo," he says, warning and pleading mixed together.

"What do you want me to say," I reply, my own frustration rising up and staying there. "That she's so happy? That she's completely normal and was so excited to be alone in that stupid bakery? She's not."

His shoulders sag, just slightly, like the truth knocks something loose in him.

"I messed up," he says.

Vince interjects, "Yeah, obviously."

I turn my sights on him, pointing from across the living room. "Don't start with that shit, she was upset because of you, too."

Vince's eyebrows furrow. "What the fuck did I do?"

I take a deep breath, regulating myself the best I can with these two idiots. "You are your little comments have her thinking that you hate her."

Vince crosses his arms defensively. "Why would she care? She barely knows me."

As I'm trying to come up with the words to explain to him, finally, the professor seems to get his thinking cap on. "She cares about everything, Vince. Everyone. I don't think she has it in her to not care."

Vince scoffs. "Well, that's stupid. I obviously don't hate her."

I roll my eyes. "Maybe next time you see her, explain that to her." I mutter the end of the sentence, rubbing a hand over my face, "If there is a next time."

Alexander shoots up, body rigid at my words. "What do you mean?"

I don't answer him immediately. My jaw aches from how hard I've been clenching it, and I roll it once, slow, like that might shake the irritation loose. It doesn't.

"She's not in a place where 'next time' is a given," I say finally.

Alexander's brow furrows. "Enzo—"