Enzo’s POV:
Cassidy is asleep across Max’s chest, one leg tangled over his like she owns him.
She does. She owns all of us.
Max’s hand rests on her thigh, fingers flexing every now and then even while he’s out — instinct more than thought. Alex hasn’t moved in ten minutes, just slowly combing his fingers through her hair like if he stops she might wake.
Cassian’s pretending to read. He hasn’t turned a page once.
Francesco nudges my shoulder lightly from the doorway.
“She finally crashed.”
I nod.
Her breathing is deep now. Not the fake sleep she does when she’s listening — the real kind. Shoulders loose. Mouth barely parted. Safe.
Alex glances at us. “Perimeter.”
“Yeah,” Francesco says quietly. “We’ll grab food too.”
Max grunts something into her hair that sounds like extra sau
