It had become a normal thing for Hazel that Enzo, her mysterious lover, would suddenly disappear and reappear out of nowhere. But Hazel didn't like how unpredictable her love life had become. She wanted to be with Enzo every day. However, she wasn't sure if she should ask him more about his life. Sometimes, he seemed to avoid talking about his family, and she didn't want to push him.

One evening, Hazel was at home after returning from work. She had just stepped out of the shower, dressed in a comfortable white t-shirt and matching white shorts. Settling on the sofa to watch TV, she suddenly heard the sound of a vehicle outside. Curious, she peeked through the window and was surprised to see a sleek black car pull up near her gate. Her heart skipped a beat when she recognized Enzo stepping out of the car.

How does he know where I live? Hazel wondered, her thoughts racing. At the same time, her heart began to pound with excitement at seeing her lover again after so long. She opened the door and waited as Enzo walked through the gate and climbed the stone steps leading to her porch. The air around her filled with the familiar, intoxicating scent of his cologne.

"Enzo," Hazel murmured, her eyes fixed on him. Without a word, Enzo wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips to hers in a sudden, passionate kiss, as he always did. He never bothered with a simple "Hi" when they met; his greeting was always this—a deep, lingering kiss that Hazel couldn't help but love. She melted into his embrace, savoring the warmth and passion she had been longing for. She didn't want to argue or question anything. In that moment, all she wanted was to feel his presence.

"Come inside," Hazel said softly, stepping aside to let him in. Enzo walked into her house, his dark eyes scanning every corner with an expression of mild shock and surprise.

"How did you know where I live?" Hazel asked, her gaze lingering on Enzo's handsome face—the face she could never grow tired of.

"I have my ways," Enzo replied with a smirk, his eyes locking onto hers. Then, glancing around the room again, he asked, "Why is your house so small?"

"What do you mean?" Hazel said, frowning slightly. "This is a normal-sized house, perfect for one person."

Enzo wandered through the house like a detective, inspecting every corner. He even peeked into the bedroom. "Why is the bedroom so small? How do you...?" His words trailed off. He had never been in a house this small—except for the one he had been held in as a child. The space made him feel like he was trapped in a tiny box. He turned to look at Hazel.

"It's not that small," Hazel replied, surprised by his reaction.

"It is small," Enzo said bluntly.

"Okay, Mr. Expert, how big is your room then?" Hazel asked, crossing her arms and planting her hands on her hips.

"With the bathroom included? Probably the size of this entire house," Enzo replied. Hazel's face fell, her expression growing pale.

"Oh," she murmured, her tone heavy with disappointment. She wasn't rich—far from it. Enzo was rich, and she couldn't help but wonder if her modest life would be a dealbreaker for him.

It's not a big deal for him to find a rich and glamorous girl, Hazel thought sadly. But Enzo couldn't read her mind. Instead, he sat down on the sofa with a sigh. "This isn't comfortable at all. It's too small."

Hazel glanced at him and silently agreed that the sofa, though cozy for her, might feel cramped for Enzo, who was much bigger than she was. Even so, she couldn't help feeling hurt. She loved her little house, and most people who visited it found it charming and cozy. But Enzo? He just kept criticizing it.

"Did you come here just to criticize my house?" Hazel asked angrily, crossing her arms.

Enzo realized his mistake immediately. He ran the tip of his tongue over his lips, as if searching for the right words. Those lips—so enticing—made Hazel want to kiss him again, but she held back, waiting to hear what he had to say.

"Well, no, I didn't come to criticize your house," he said, his voice softening. "But it's... you know... small."

"Okay, okay, I know it's small," Hazel snapped. "But I like it. What am I supposed to do with a huge house?"

"Maybe have a husband and lots of kids," Enzo said, his dark eyes fixed on hers.

Hazel felt a flutter deep in her stomach at his words. "Hmm... great idea," she said, trying to sound casual, though her heart raced.

"Sit next to me, Hazel," Enzo said, patting the sofa beside him.

She hesitated for a moment but then moved closer, sitting right next to him.

"Would you like to spend the night at a hotel with me?" he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "I miss you."

Hazel turned to him, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Why didn't you say so earlier?" Hazel asked, frowning. "That way, I would've had enough time to prepare." She hesitated for a moment before adding, "Or... or you could just stay here." As soon as the words left her mouth, she wondered what her mom would say if she knew Hazel was keeping a man in her house overnight.

"Yeah, you're right," Enzo said, his tone apologetic. "I should've told you earlier. My bad." He leaned closer, his husky voice dropping as he gently touched her face. "Would you like to go to a party with me tomorrow? We can stay at a hotel after that."

"Yes, I will," Hazel replied softly, her cheeks warming.

Before either of them could say another word, they were kissing again, lost in the moment.

After spending a few more hours together, Enzo finally left Hazel's house around midnight, leaving her both excited and nervous about what lay ahead.

—----

Enzo opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat. Manuel was already behind the wheel, waiting. Enzo knew he'd been inside Hazel's house, lost in her embrace, for hours, and Manuel had been sitting there the entire time. A pang of guilt hit Enzo—he hated keeping Manuel waiting. But he also knew Manuel wouldn't let him go anywhere alone. He still treated him like a child.

"Took you long enough," Manuel said, glancing at his son's slightly flushed face.

"Sorry about that," Enzo muttered, avoiding his father's piercing green eyes.

"Hope you didn't get her pregnant," Manuel said with a smirk, though there was a hint of seriousness in his tone.

"Papa," Enzo replied, his voice tinged with annoyance.

Manuel started the car, the engine purring to life as he pulled away from the curb.

"What?" Manuel asked again, glancing at his son briefly. He wasn't trying to provoke him—he just wanted to be sure Enzo wasn't making reckless choices.

"We didn't have sex, okay? She's... I don't know. She wants to wait until marriage. Maybe she doesn't trust me," Enzo said, shrugging.

"Sounds like a smart girl," Manuel said, laughing.

"My poor d*ck has no chance," Enzo muttered.

"Enzo, have some respect when you're talking to your Papa," Manuel said sternly, though a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"You're the one who wanted the details," Enzo shot back with a chuckle.

"I only wanted to know if you did anything stupid," Manuel clarified.

"I didn't," Enzo said, exhaling in frustration. "I mean, how can I when she's waiting for marriage?" His tone carried a hint of disappointment.

"Are you planning to wait for marriage too?" Manuel asked, glancing at Enzo through the rearview mirror.

"Looks like I have to," Enzo replied, gazing out the window.

Manuel raised an eyebrow, surprised by his son's response. "Looks like someone's really in love," he said, a teasing note in his voice.

"Of course I am. It's so annoying though—falling in love," Enzo said, sighing.

Manuel smiled. "I can't believe you respect someone that much," he said, glancing at his son.

"Are you telling me I don't respect anyone?" Enzo asked, his eyebrows raising in surprise.

"Come on, baby. We both know you're a brat," Manuel teased, clearly enjoying himself.

"Papa, when did I ever disrespect you?" Enzo asked, his voice tinged with frustration.

"I have a list if you want me to start," Manuel replied with a smirk, and Enzo groaned. He knew his father wasn't lying.

"But... but I love you," Enzo said, trying to soften the moment. And he meant it. He loved Manuel more than anyone in the world. Even Hazel came second.

Enzo's words left Manuel speechless, his emotions swelling inside. He tried to hold back the tears. "Love you too, son," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

"Oh, Papa. Don't try to cry," Enzo said softly, his heart aching. He didn't want to see Manuel cry—he knew that he was the only one who could make Manuel cry. Sometimes it was because Enzo had been hurt, and other times it was simply because Enzo said, "I love you."

"I hate to see you cry," Enzo admitted, his voice tinged with tenderness.

"I'm not crying," Manuel said, smiling through his cracked voice, though the tears were evident in his eyes.

Enzo gazed at his father's reflection in the front mirror, meeting his green eyes. Oh, Papa, why do you love me so much? he thought, feeling a mix of gratitude and confusion.