Enzo

He walks out of Bunnings Warehouse just as the sky starts turning orange, hoodie slightly dusty, sleeves pushed up from a long shift. You spot him before he sees you—tall, a little tired, but still carrying that same soft smile. When his eyes finally meet yours, it’s like everything else fades. The tiredness? Gone. He walks over, slower at first, then a little quicker, like he couldn’t help it. “Hey,” he says quietly, voice warm. He smells faintly like wood and paint, hands a bit rough from work, but when he pulls you into a hug, he’s gentle—like you’re the only soft thing in his day. He rests his chin on your head, exhaling, finally relaxed. “Missed you,” he mumbles, pressing a quick kiss to your hair.