Archive of Our Own

Darkness overtook Firenze when Lorenzo had decided to look out of his window that night, aiming to get some fresh air before heading to bed. Nothing could help contribute against his sour mood - after a long day of work, his wife had been grilling him about the state of their windowsills all throughout their measly dinner, despite knowing that he had no time to fix them on his own - much less, the money to pay for someone to do it. 

Lorenzo’s family had never struggled financially in the Medicis’ wealthy Firenze, but a recent rough patch had pushed them towards excessive saving and forgetting the taste of meat for the past few weeks. If anything, it had only served to make him more irritable - and it didn’t contribute to the fact that he was never really a ray of sunshine. 

On top of everything going on, Lorenzo would leave for work at the crack of dawn to find pieces of broken roof tiles scattered on the ground before their door, clearly fallen on their own by some mystery of nature. He had just huffed and shoved the shards away with his foot, hoping his wife would never notice them and make him pay for renovations, until a whole piece of windowsill had substituted the brick red fragments on the ground one morning. Evidently, the half-rotten wood framing their window had had literally been ripped off in the middle of the night, a defect which had not been as easy to hide from his disgruntled lady. 

It was along that time when he learnt about the criminal roaming around the streets of Firenze - or rather, hopping from roof to roof, because Florentines said the wanted Auditore avoided the slammer by traversing the city through anywhere but the ground. It had gotten so bad, archers had started to post up on roofs with specific instructions to look for the hooded man, all without luck.

While the Pazzi continued to look for the fled Auditore family, Lorenzo didn’t give much care to whatever the political implications of that whole scandal were, but he did know one thing: that goddamned criminal was the one who had broken his windowsill.

He had to be, and so he had become the most major pain in his rear and the orchestrator to all his suffering - firstly, because the uproar he was causing in the city affected his business; and secondly, because thanks to his climber complex, he’d had to mess with their rotten windowsills, and now Lorenzo’s wife had been complaining for weeks that their house and life was falling apart. 

He’d make the guy pay, Lorenzo just didn’t yet know how - not until he looked out of the window that night. 

Because there he was, so plainly in view with his bright-white attire, the opposite to a shadow of the night. Hanging on to someone’s windowsill, as was expected - the wanted criminal peeked through the window of one of the houses across from Lorenzo’s, arms never faltering despite supporting his whole body weight on just a thin piece of architecture. Well, of course he had broken Lorenzo’s, if he acted like that. The real question was how he hadn’t broken that neighbor’s yet. 

It’s then when Lorenzo realises just who lives in that house - it’s Giulio’s apothecary, and like every other male in the neighbourhood, he knows of the young apprentice the old man housed with open arms. The girl with the boxes of medicine always stole masculine attention when she walked out in the mornings, be it from younger boys or married men, without ever noticing it herself. 

Unsurprisingly, it made Lorenzo even more annoyed. How did that Auditore get whatever he wanted? To walk off unscathed, and to watch the most beautiful girl that corner of Firenze had ever seen? Jealousy seeped in with fervour - what if he actually knew her? If he sneaked regularly into her room without getting seen, if that was the reason why the roofs of the apothecary’s neighbouring houses were unusually more damaged? 

Lorenzo had never thought clearer than when he had the following idea. With an evil smile sneaking onto his features, he had carefully closed his window, planning his visit to the Pazzi palace the next morning. 

☽ ☆ ☾

Your day started off weirdly. 

Something pushed you to stay in bed later than you usually did - past sunrise, that was, golden light streaming in as a thick river across the wooden floor of your room. Well, you knew what it had been: your late night restlessness had knocked you out cold and made you sleep in, tangled in your sheets after having dreams of impossible lust with your evasive lover. You didn't even know if to classify him as such, because even though Ezio’s kiss on the roof had felt fervent with hidden passion, he was still missing from Firenze. 

This was a continuing worry as you rushed to get dressed and almost tripped down the stairs, finding Guilio behind the counter of his already open shop. Pestle in hand and a sweet scent wafting through the air, he offers you a smile instead of a reprimand.

“Were you tired?”

“Exhausted,” You lie, offering an apologetic smile as you approach the boxes ready to be filled and delivered. “I’m so sorry, Giulio.”

“No need to apologise,” He waves off your worry, signalling towards some of the products he’d laid out for you. “Either way, it’ll be a short one today, so it’s fine if you start a bit later.”

“Are all these vials to be delivered to Cristoforo?”

“Yes. Remember, he’s setting up his stall near…”

“...La Cattedrale, yes, I remember,” Dashing through the workshop, you pick some of the dustier bottles in some forgotten cabinets. A swab of your thumb over the labels reveals their names hidden under layers of grime. “And these were for the Rosso family, correct?”

“You’re right,” Your mentor seems impressed with your quick thinking, clearly having forgotten the order himself. “Their youngest is down with a strange ailment, bless his heart. I think those might be of good use.”

You make a mental note to bump that delivery to the top of your list, grabbing a few more things before heading out. 

“See you later, Guilio!”

“Take care.”

And so your day officially started, morning sun toasting your skin the second you left the shop with your usual quick step. Neighbours and wandering vendors all greeted as you passed, familiar faces you were never shy to show some kindness to. 

The city buzzed with life early every day. It was what you loved most about it: unlike the countryside, you could still manage to swim through the floods of crowds with places to go to, and still not recognise most of them, no matter how many times you might pass each other every time you took the same paths. Each day brought forth a new adventure, new experiences, places you still had somehow never been in, having to ask locals for directions despite your growing time in Firenze. You loved it all. 

Consumed by positive thoughts, the walk to the Rosso residence seems quite short, as well as the following deliveries across the city. Your day’s short list ends with Cristoforo’s stall near Santa Maria dei Fiori, so you proudly cross the penultimate item off with a flick of your used lead and start making your way towards the famous cathedral. 

By far, the colossal structure was what overtook you the most during your first days in Firenze. Approaching it and seeing it peek over already tall buildings like a sleeping giant dropped in the middle of the city felt almost constricting, a human feat so perfect your poor mind couldn’t even begin to comprehend it. Winding alleys behind the dome reveal its sheer magnitude, a visual effect so appalling it seems like the whole building threatens to fall on top of you.  

Cristoforo’s stall was set up near the cathedral’s main entrance, which was neatly decorated in a mosaic of red, green, and white marble. But you weren’t there to sit and stare at the impressive front like you usually did, even zooming past the glitter of yellow gold from the Baptistery’s doors: your client was already beckoning you to him, and you still had plenty of work waiting for you back in the apothecary. 

“Buongiorno, signorina. Got what I need?”

“Buongiorno, Cristoforo. Sì, take a look.”

The crooked beak of his doctor mask dips into his chest as he peeks into the box you offer, chock-full of his usual order of metallic medicine vials. They’re the same ones most doctors in the city sell, as well as the ones you’d started directly selling to Ezio a while back. 

But, God, why must your mind wander back to him in such a moment? Feelings of yearning flood back into your head, soon blending with the recollection of what you did last night. How your body burned with desire for the ghostly figure, how you’d seen his handsome face drawn under your eyelids when you shut them close, how your fingers had found their way between your legs with a mind of their own…

So is your captivation, that when Cristoforo’s glove merely brushes said fingers, they seem to burn a flaming red, instinctively making you pull the box closer towards you before you accidentally drop it. 

“Are you okay?” The doctor chuckles as you regain consciousness, hands up in a show of peace. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

A loud cough escapes you when you choke on your own words, crimson washing over your whole expression. You hand him the box like it’s on fire. 

“Sì, I’m al- I’m okay. Just… You know, same as always.”

Thankfully, he doesn’t ask any more questions, and the fact that his expression is hidden behind the mask does wonders to quell your embarrassment. He just hands you your usual bag of florins, which seems to weigh the same as always, and offers you a gentle cock of his head. 

“So..?”

“Ciao, Cristoforo,” You manage, failing as you try to channel confidence before walking away.

His goodbye sounds distant as you leave, waving back with a smile to redeem yourself as your mind scrambles to distract itself with anything other than Ezio Auditore: the day ahead, yes, the recipes you had to prepare and bottle once you got back to the apothecary, as well as a promised lesson by Guilio to prepare some ointment for which you’d been waiting on the ingredients to arrive for weeks…

“Mi scusi, signorina.”

… So distracted indeed, that you almost come face-to-metal with a city guard’s ornamented chest plate. 

You’re so caught off guard, you barely manage to take a step back and mumble an apology, looking over the three men who have approached you out of nowhere. The one in the middle - whom you had almost bumped into - seems to be the captain, accompanied by two other soldiers in caps and menacing expressions. 

“Do you need anything, signori?”

“We are looking for someone,” The guard tilts his head down, inspecting you like he was crossing off a checklist in his mind. 

When he utters your name, you freeze up, eyes widening in recognition. “Do you know her?”

You had a slight suspicion of what this was all about, but your mind was too busy trying to figure out how anyone had found out. It had been over a month since you had seen Ezio Auditore. You could try to pass it off like you didn’t know who they were talking about, but you had the impression that the guards knew exactly who you were, and were just using this to tease you - a twisted game of cat and mouse. 

You’d get out of it with dignity. 

“That’s me,” You puff your chest, gaining some of that lost confidence. “What did you want from me?”

Even if you cannot see his face, the guard seems impressed that you gave yourself in so quickly. 

“Is that so?,” He scoffs, “Well, we have trusted reports that you have been seen interacting with a criminal wanted by the city.”

His companion passes him a ripped poster, parchment half-crumpled. The captain practically shoves it in your face. 

“Look familiar?”

A hooded Ezio Auditore stares back at you, the same smirk which haunted you in every corner of that city. 

You take a deep breath in. 

“I have never seen that man in my life.”

The guard doesn’t say anything. You just see his hand grip the paper tighter before nodding an order to his men. 

Immediately, both guards step behind you, and they seize your arms before you can say anything. Your initial reaction is to fight:  trying to fling your hands around, kick them, scream loud enough for the whole square to be alerted of the altercation, but nothing seems to help.

You’re lifted off your feet when you try to stop them by dropping like a dead weight. 

“This is an unwarranted arrest!” You protest, hair quickly slipping out of your do to fall down on your face. “This city is being corrupted from the inside!”

“You can keep screaming that in your cell while we hold you for questioning,” He cuts, as sharp as the blade he flaunts before anyone who dares to intervene. You can only watch the crowd that formed around you when they forcefully turn you to a different direction, pushing you to walk by dragging your feet through the ground. 

The fight you put up doesn’t stop, insulting the guards and making everyone’s heads turn as you’re taken prisoner through one of the busiest streets in Firenze. You know where you’re headed - straight towards Palazzo della Signoria, where you’d learnt Ezio’s family was kept locked up before being executed, just like Giulio had once told you. 

Oh, no. Giulio, Ezio - the thought of them being in danger or never seeing you again brings a tear to your eye, which soon breaks into a waterfall as you’re dragged down winding sets of stairs. None of the guards address your state as you’re pushed harshly into a measly cell, surrounded by stone darkened despite the lack of light inside. 

“You’ll be taken for interrogation soon enough,” The guard says, though you don’t even look at his face while you lay defeated against the wall. “Cut the act and say the truth.”

With that, the metallic door is closed shut, and you’re left to grieve on your own. 

The idea that they could persecute Giulio afterwards churns your insides. Arrest him, close his shop, do him some type of harm; it just pains you to think that the man who had offered you so much might suffer from your irresponsibility. He warned you. He was the first to tell you not to dig too deep, to not ask strange questions, and it finally got you where you so desperately seeked. 

But strangely, the other part of you regretted nothing. You wouldn’t go back in time and refuse treatment to Ezio when he climbed into your room that night. You wouldn’t take back your agreement to partnership. You didn’t regret the kiss on the rooftop, and you didn’t want to forget his memory. It felt painfully greedy to need it all in such a situation, knowing what it might cost you, but you wanted it anyway. 

It wasn’t as if you knew of Ezio’s current location, but you knew the spots he frequented. How he moved through the city. How his lips tasted.

You would never speak. 

You’d take the gallows before doing so. 

☽ ☆ ☾

Brick tiles are tinted tangerine as the sun hides under the walls surrounding Monteriggioni. It’s a pretty picture - paired with the peace of that little town, which seemed completely asleep without shops, taverns, or even people wandering the streets, one could probably watch the sunset with nothing but the occasional neighing of horses as background noise.

That was, until Ezio arrived and decided that sundown was one of the best times of day to train himself by sparring and swordfighting against his uncle’s guys. For months now, the tranquility nighttime brought to Monteriggioni had been replaced by the grunting of men and clashing metal, previews of the silent war Ezio was preparing himself for. 

Admittedly, that day had been difficult. Returning to Monteriggioni the night before, with the urgency of some much needed alone time, had left him quite tired the morning after - a mental haze which was promptly replaced by the most feral need a man could ever have. 

It pushed him to train like a madman. Even his usual companions comment on his ferocity, too scared to say anything else to the boss’ nephew, who seemed to have raging thoughts in his mind. He can see the fear in their face as he manages to take down three of them in what was supposed to be a friendly swordfight.  

There’s nothing friendly about the way all three roll on the yellowish dust, eternally thankful for the fact that all training swords had fully bluntened blades. As he helps them get up while mumbling apologies, Ezio cannot stop thinking about his next steps. 

When would he return to Firenze? Soon, but not that same week. He’d wait until the start of the following one to avoid the danger of having guards on high alert. Every day, his ability to sneak around became better, but he could never discard the idea of some sleepy guard having seen him last night as he fled the city.

It was the biggest act of self-restraint he’d ever accomplish, that one. Because, if even God knew something right, it was the fact that Ezio would trade anything to return to you that same night. To tell you what he saw, what he knew he heard, and show you what he could do about it. 

“Well done, Ezio.”

Mario Auditore catches him off guard as he helps the last of the men, who thanks Ezio before defeatedly dusting his hands off.

“Uncle. You saw me fight?”

“I watch you almost every day,” He chuckles, “It’s my job as a mentor.”

The young assassin just nods in silent agreement, a shy smile spreading on his lips as he puts away his sword.

“You’re getting better,” Mario compliments, hands on the railing which surrounds the training ring. “Today though, you seemed fiercer. Is there anything troubling you?”

Unfortunately, the thing which troubled him was far from what he could admit to his uncle. “No, not really.”

“Then, if that is the way you’re learning to fight normally, you’re on a good track, nipote!”

Both men share a laugh as Ezio leaves the ring, suddenly distracted when looking over the ghost town. 

“Actually, I did have something on my mind,” He trails slowly, watching Mario’s reaction. “I was just wondering when it wouldn’t be risky to return to Firenze.”

“Return? Weren’t you there yesterday?”

“Yes,” Ezio watches as his uncle crosses his arms over his chest, a pensive look on his expression. “I still have some pending business.”

“Urgent business?”

Did fucking the apothecary’s apprentice until she couldn’t think anymore count as urgent business?

“Yes.”

“Maybe give it some time, then,” Mario sighs. “A day or two more. Stay hidden until it's time to strike again.”

“It’s what I was thinking of. Thank you, uncle.”

“It’s no problem, boy.”

The quiet re-instilled at the end of the training session is promptly cut short by the clicking of hooves entering the town. Alerted, both men approach the balcony which peers from the villa down to the rest of the houses, watching as a grey horse storms rapidly into the main road. 

“Is that..?”

Their informant was a young boy from Milano named Federico, whom Mario had appointed as a news carrier regarding everything which could affect them happening in Firenze. It was unusual to see him lately - months had passed since the Auditore tragedy already, and things were definitely quieting down. 

However, it seems as if the information Federico brings to them that afternoon is quite important, going up the stairs in sets of two when he sees both men. 

“Signori,” He speaks loudly when he finally reaches the top, out of breath. “Something happened.”

“Breathe, boy, don’t strain yourself,” Mario approaches him to place a hand on his shoulder, concerned with the state he’d arrived in. 

“What is it?” 

Ezio had a bad feeling in his gut, which only worsens at Federico’s terrified look.

“A girl was arrested wrongly today, just in front of the Duomo. They picked her up and took her without reason other than some rumours about… Well, about her having a relationship with Signor Ezio.”

The assassin’s blood runs cold, silent as Mario presses on about the details.

“...She’s the apothecary’s apprentice,” He offers a nervous look at Ezio. “It’s not looking good for her. They’ve had her locked up in the Palazzo della Signoria all day.”

Ezio trusted Federico with keeping his mouth shut - that was why he’d been the only one who he’d casually entrusted with the job of keeping a discreet eye on you while he wasn’t in the city. It also explained why the boy looked as nervous as he did, having galloped to the Auditore villa the second he heard all the details.

But Ezio doesn’t need to hear anything else, and he doesn’t want to wait another second. Both the other men’s voices are tuned out of his hearing when he thinks about you locked in a jail cell, looking out the small, barred window just like his father had on the night Ezio looked for him. Put in danger because of him. 

“Ezio! Where are you going!?”

Sheathing his actual sword instead of the bluntened one with a soft hiss of metal, Ezio looks at his uncle with determination. 

“I’m going to get her out.”

“Get her..? Nipote!” But he’s already going down the stairs, practically flying to get to the horse Federico had left near them. “Who is this lady? Are those rumours true? How..?”

“There’s no time to explain, uncle!” He calls out, redirecting the horse quickly and pulling his hood up. “Just send some men behind me to go to their apothecary, the one closest to the Palazzo itself, to get her mentor out too before they try to get him as leverage. I’ll get her to safety myself.”

“And sneak into the Palazzo while all of Firenze’s guards are on the lookout for you?!”

Ezio can’t even feel the danger - he just sees your face under the moonlight, eyes wide and mouth parted after he kissed you for the first time. 

“I’m not letting them win again.”

With that, the sound of galloping echoes across the town again, quickly disappearing far off into the distance.

“You heard him, boy,” Mario scoffs, nodding for Federico to go look for some backup, which he catches immediately. The senior assassin can only sigh, heading back inside to prepare their villa for guests.

☽ ☆ ☾

You’d never seen the city from so high up. 

Your cell was almost on the very top of the tower, overlooking the piazza and city pushing far into the distant fog which loomed overhead. It was squat - nothing but stone walls and a barred window, save for the luxury of a wooden plank hung on the wall to serve as a measly bed. Instead, you just sit by the far end of it, the one which faces directly towards your only portal to freedom, and watch as thin clouds are pushed to reveal the round moon adorning the sky. 

A short interrogation had been carried out earlier, after spending hours in that hole they called a subterranean jail, just to learn the fact that you refused to utter a single word to any of those men. You had no idea who they were - besides the guards, other figures stood before your blurred vision, their restlessness growing as they urged your captors to keep insisting on certain questions. But you didn’t say a thing, and though it earned you several nasty bruises across your body and a spot in L’alberghettino, you were satisfied with your vow to silence. 

Nevertheless, your refusal to even plead for mercy seemed to have convinced them of your involvement with the wanted Auditore, to which you had been sent to the elevated cell ‘in wait of your lover’ - they believed that Ezio would come and try something stupid, to which you had been set up as a mere prop to his distraction; a trap for a wild animal. 

It was the real reason why you were being held captive: to be used as bait. Such a realisation kept you unable of getting some shut-eye, dread haunting you from the four dark corners of that cell. Just like Ezio had been the reason for your downfall, you’d be the reason for his - a true story of star-crossed lovers, they’d called it, before shutting the heavy wooden door behind you with the slide of a metal lock.  

All-consuming, you pray that those thoughts don’t come to fruition, mind buzzing with the idea of Ezio putting himself in danger for the sake of your safety. You hoped he was not that foolish. That he wouldn’t try infiltrating the heavily guarded Palazzo for your sake, proving the hypothesis of those men who wanted nothing but to see him take the gallows. 

A thud distracts you from your overthinking. 

You can only furrow your brows before you hear fast shuffling, metal clashing against metal, and another heavy thump against the door. The relatively silent altercation shoots you up straight from your seat, standing before the entrance with a spooked expression. Pricking up your ears, there’s the distinct sound of something heavy being dragged away, momentary silence, and the jingle of heavy keys. 

The door is being unlocked. It opens slowly, with just a subtle creak. 

It’s him. 

“Ezio!”

It’s not a yell - your voice comes out so pained, so desperate, he feels as if you’ll break when you run to his open arms. The thought breaks him. 

Your lips crash onto his with an urgency which is immediately reciprocated, hidden under the shadow of his hood. He holds you so tenderly, despite your precarious position, not daring to push you away for a second. He wanted this, needed to feel you were okay since the moment he heard the news.

“You came back for me,” It’s the only thing you manage to whisper as you pull away, fingers locked impossibly tight onto his biceps. A strong hand pushes away locks of stray hair from your face as delicately as he can, and you swear you can see the worry in his expression even when it is shadowed by his hood. 

“Did you really think I’d leave you here?”

Distant calls alert your savior, who holds a calloused palm over your mouth before you can say anything. 

“We can’t stay here much longer,” Fairly, you were still in enemy territory, and it was not the most appropriate place for a love confession. You just nod vigorously against his hand and listen carefully, trying to identify whether there were men coming your way or not. 

“You have to follow my every move. Keep up with my pace, be my shadow. We can’t speak. We can’t run. If we leave without being detected, it’ll all be much cleaner.”

When he removes his hand, your lips stay sealed, waiting for him to make the first move. 

“Bene,” He is the first to leave the cell, standing next to the wall as he jokingly invites you to follow him. You think he’s just being chivalrous, until you notice the poking feet he tries to hide with his figure behind the cell door. 

“Don’t worry about him. He’s sleeping.”

You scoff quietly, visibly delighting him when an amused smile spreads on your lips.

Down those same winding stairs you go, now darker than when you’d first been dragged up while barely conscious. Ezio’s footsteps make no sound, his clothes don’t rustle like other fabrics - he’s used to this, leading you out of that prison at a brisker pace than you’d expected. 

He stops at the end of the steps, so suddenly you almost crash into him. Biting your lips at the guilty thought, he barely peeks his head out to the incoming hallway, checking up and down thoroughly. 

When he turns and nods, you know you must continue. Ezio is quick in redirecting you towards a different end of the hall, but you see the silhouette of another guard laying still on the ground. Just how had he made it all the way to the top without being spotted once?

There are more stairs to take, so you placate your thoughts and follow Ezio without uttering a single word. His pace is almost hard to keep up with, having in mind your battered figure from the previous interrogations. But you don’t have to tell him to stop - just as you’re thinking it, Ezio slows down dramatically, raising a finger to his ear while staring back at you.

Footsteps. Someone was coming up the stairs.

Ezio thinks quickly. He stays in the corner and places a quick hand on your chest, gently pushing you against the wall so you blend in with it. You can only focus as he keeps it there, palm strong and spread open over your sternum, holding you with security. They are getting closer. 

The guard isn’t given any time to react.

That same hand that had been holding you quickly meets the guard’s neck in what you think is a punch, until blood starts to spill on the metal of his armour. A gasp escapes you when the man immediately drops to the ground with a loud thump, gushing from the same orifice Ezio’s blade had easily slid out of. You watch as the knife retracts back into the inside of his wrist with a quick movement, like it had never even been there. 

“What the..?”

He grunts, moving the corpse’s legs to the side with ease so you can walk past it. 

“...You shouldn’t have seen that.”

You were not naïve. Talk of what Ezio did spread like wildfire through the city, and though you'd heard the word assassin thrown around time and time again, you’d never seen him actually kill someone so brutally, in front of your eyes.

His hand finds yours again, this time squeezing harder than before. 

“These men took my family from me. They took you, and planned to do the same thing,” His look is intense as he stares deeply into your eyes. “I don’t kill for pleasure. I just know the system is corrupt, so I take justice into my own hands.”

You continue to follow him after that, walking past the corpse and down the stairs once more.

“You do not need to explain yourself,” You whisper. “This is a dangerous situation, I was just shocked.”

“I do not want you to think I am a heartless killer.”

You finally reach the bottom of the stairs. Ezio stops before opening the door, staring back at you in the darkness. 

“You’re anything but heartless to me.”

Your shared look lasts a second, before realising you had to keep moving. 

Down more and more hallways you went, eventually making it out of the building without being detected. Half-crouching, Ezio had rushed you behind a wooden cart, signalling for you to stay low as he checked the perimeter. 

“There’s a horse there,” He mutters to himself, though never losing the hold on your hand. “But there is no way we can reach it. There are no places to hide, and there’s guards everywhere.”

“What if we run?”

Your companion’s head snaps back in a flash, staring at you like you’d said something crazy.

“You cannot be serious.”

“I’m fast enough,” You shrug, amused at his reaction. “Chi non risica non rosica.”

Just as you think he’ll discard your idea, Ezio seems to consider it slowly, staring out into the distance. He checks the way to the horse once, twice and thrice, before turning to you and nodding his head. 

“We’ll run when I say so.”

A rush of adrenaline surges through your body as you position yourself, ready to start running without cramping up from crouching. Focused, Ezio watches the soldiers who parade along the back of the palace, waiting for the perfect moment in which a clear path would be revealed to lead towards your only way out of the city. 

“Now!”

A tug stands you from your position and you immediately make a run for it, dashing down the street with your objective in mind. It all happens so quickly, you’re already halfway to the horse when whistles and yells ring behind you, calls for backup and guards urging each other to run towards the escapees. 

Ezio moves swiftly, like he’d done endless practice runs of that same situation: the second you’ve both caught up to the horse, he turns and effortlessly raises you to sit on the horse, which leaves you almost too flustered to position yourself correctly before he himself mounts the animal. It only takes a surprising few seconds before the sound of galloping hooves echo through the streets of Florence. 

“Faster!” Holding onto Ezio for dear life, you barely manage to glance over your shoulder to realise more guards are catching up to you, each with their own steeds. Arrows fly from above as archers fire from the rooftops, their whistling ringing too close to your ears for comfort.

“We have to lose them first,” Ezio comments, his voice sounding calm overall.

“How?” Is the last thing you manage to utter before Ezio digs into his satchel and throws something at the ground, making a cloud of dust suddenly envelop you. 

Before the itch of the sand can reach your eyes, you shut them close and press your face against his back. You have no idea how, but Ezio is somehow able to see through the cloud and takes a sharp turn left at a crossroads. 

To anyone else trying to escape, Florence’s labyrinthical streets would’ve been a terrible disadvantage. For Ezio, however, his knowledge of the city’s every turn and hidden passage turned that fact into a powerful distraction tool which had gotten him out of many life-or-death situations. Behind you, the guards had moved forwards through the sand, while Ezio had taken a completely alternate pathway. 

He just chuckles as you cough out dust in the back, slowly opening your eyes to see you were riding through a narrow, winding street, finally approaching the outside walls. 

And sure enough, you were out of the city in no time, having long left behind the sounds of soldiers as Ezio made the horse quickly gallop through open fields. 

“You were not lying,” He says suddenly, and you swear you can hear the smile in his expression. “You’re a fast runner.”

☽ ☆ ☾

A long ride takes you to Monteriggioni, half of which you spend half asleep, with your cheek pressed against Ezio’s back. The sound of his breathing and heartbeat were stable, a constant rhythm which lulled you in and out of slumber every time his muscles shifted. He didn’t say a word when he knew you were resting. Only God knew what they’d done to you in that tower, but Ezio did know it must’ve left you beaten. 

The tuscan town is sleepy, more so in the middle of the night. It was eerily quiet, surrounded by buildings with boarded windows which had obviously been left vacant for many years.

“There is no one to fill them,” Ezio had responded when you asked, now riding into the main road with an easy step. “We’ve been trying to change that.”

Atop the highest position in Monteriggioni, you finally saw what Ezio had dubbed as the Auditore Villa. Its upkeep wasn’t the greatest either, but it stood magnificently, with winding stairs and an inviting fountain leading up to the mansion. 

“Welcome,” He dismounts the horse with ease, offering his hands out to help you do the same. “To my hideout.”

It was strange seeing the place you’d once fantasised about, picturing where Ezio would hide for weeks on end away from Firenze. It had never crossed your mind that he did so in a family-owned villa, but nevertheless, Ezio seemed to come from an influential lineage - one you didn’t know much about.

“Piccolina!”

A sudden yell cuts the night when you reach the top of the stairs, coming from a familiar voice: Giulio leaves the house with his arms wide open, beckoning you towards him.

“Giulio!”

Ezio watches you bolt towards your mentor with a smile on his face. Inside you, an overwhelming feeling of relief had spread through your whole chest the second you collapsed into the old man’s hug, tears threatening to fall.

“Giulio. I’m so sorry,” His comforting hand rubbing your back makes you break down against his shoulder, sobbing softly. “I’m really sorry, I did not listen to you and I got involved in something which put you in danger, and I…”

“Calm down, calm down,” Your mentor reassures you, pulling you back to hold your shoulders paternally. “That doesn’t matter anymore. What’s important is that you are safe and well. Signor Auditore told me everything.”

You look through your tears in confusion. Ezio had been with you the whole time. 

“What..?”

“Young love! It leads us to make rash decisions.”

A man had emerged from the mansion wearing a good-natured smile. It crinkled the edge of his eyes, one of which was milky white and crossed over by a thin scar. He looked older than both Ezio and you, but not as old as Giulio, keeping his still dark hair slicked back and his frame wide and tall. 

You hear Ezio groan in embarrassment, sounding closer to his young age than ever before. “Uncle…”

“Nipote! Glad to see you back in one piece,” The man, Ezio’s uncle, approaches him with a fraternal pat on the back. “I’m glad to see you both back, actually.”

You’re the next he greets, holding your hand in between both of his. “I’m Mario Auditore. Welcome to our family’s home. You’ll both be able to stay under our protection until you decide what your next moves will be.”

“Signor Auditore. Thank you for helping us and opening your home to this inconvenience,” You politely shake his hands, slightly bowing your head down in gratitude. “And for helping Giulio while Ezio rescued me. I’ll be forever grateful.”

“Inconvenience?” The man just scoffs, shaking his head. “This house is too big and too empty for guests to ever be a burden. And I’m not the one you should be thanking! Ezio was the one who sent my men after your mentor while he rushed for you the second he heard about your troubles.”

The burning look you turn to give Ezio would have made a weaker man melt. You were planning on personally thanking him later on, but that was something you were not about to disclose.

Mario, however, instantly senses the tension and is quick to act upon it. “It’s horribly late. Ezio, how about you take the lady to her room, while I take care of Giulio?”

The man just nods in agreement, hand falling on the small of your back as he directs you into the mansion. 

Pristine white marble makes up the inside, though the walls seem unusually empty, spare for a small assortment of paintings. You can hear the conversation between Mario and Giulio as they remain on the first floor and Ezio leads you up the stairs, something about how surprised he’d been at the sudden knocking of their men at his apothecary’s door. At least, you knew Giulio had never really been in danger, but that was thanks to none other than Ezio and his quick thinking. God knows what would’ve been of you if you’d survived the night in that tower, or what would’ve been of Giulio if they’d decided to keep torturing you despite you not budging. 

Thankfulness could’ve brought you to tears when Ezio led you into an elegant bedroom, only lit under the soft glow of a few candles. The curtains are drawn shut, their fabric made of the same maroon velvet which lay folded by the end of the canopy bed, revealing the pristine white of the sheets underneath. It was a long shot from the dark hole that was L’alberghettino, with its small window and splinter-ridden wooden plank.

“This is it,” Ezio removes his hood when you enter the room, revealing the strands of dark hair which have fallen out of his ponytail and onto his forehead. You can tell he has lost part of his overbearing confidence, deciding to stand close to the door as he lets you inspect the room. “I am sure you want some time to rest. I’ll…”

“I want you to stay.”

Ezio might be an assassin, but you knew he was also a gentleman. The tension between you two was palpable, but he’d never act upon it unless he knew you for sure wanted it at that moment - and it was a delicate one, given that you’d been kidnapped and tortured for most of the day. 

“I do not want to sleep alone tonight.”

His inhale is slow, but deep, nodding along as he reaches to shut the door with a quiet hand. 

Ezio meets you at the foot of the bed, taking your hands in his. “I was terrified when I learned you were in danger. How did it happen?”

“I was just doing my job, like every other morning, when I got stopped by three guards right beside the cathedral. They told me they… had trusted reports that I’d been seen interacting with you. I got taken despite saying I did not recognise you.”

His dark eyebrows weave in worry as you continue. “I just don’t understand… Why now? We have not seen each other for weeks.”

“It has an explanation.”

Ezio’s sure words stun you for a second, leaving you to cock your head, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I was in Firenze last night.”

Blinking quickly, you push away the thought of what you’d done aside. “You were?”

He just nods slowly, his focus on you remaining intense. 

“Why didn’t you… come to see me?”

“I did.”

And suddenly, the memory rushes back like water down a spring: in your immediate haze, you’d seen a flash of white through your window, but you’d simply attributed it to your wishful thinking. It had just become apparent that what you’d seen had been far from a figment of your imagination, as he was implying - and the sole thought makes you want the earth to swallow you whole. 

“Did you..?”

“I saw it all.”

“Ezio!” Embarrassed, you cover your face to hide the flush that spreads over your cheeks, leaning into him. 

“Do not be shy, now,” Carefully, his hold on your wrist removes one of the hands which covers your face. “I also heard what you were saying.”

Your feelings were so unfamiliar that your immediate reaction was none other than awkwardness, but hearing the way Ezio’s tone morphs into something deep and sultry serves to reignite that feeling in your core. It gives you the confidence needed to utter your next words. 

“What was it?”

“My name.”

You swear you feel your stomach turn upside down before Ezio leans down to kiss you, strong arms soon enveloping you as close to him as possible. He isn’t hurried, but there is an urgent passion in the way he almost devours you with his mouth, barely letting you space to breathe. 

“Do it again for me. In front of me,” The words are whispered in your mouth between kisses, which you inhale with a wanting sigh. “Let me undress you and show you what I wanted to do to you last night.”

Only one nod of consent is needed before Ezio picks you up with ease, just to gently throw you back onto the bed. The sight of him towering over you with that look of crazed want on his expression makes you rub your legs together, beckoning him to come closer.

Before you can begin to help him with your clothes, he starts to untie your sleeves, followed by the laced bodice of your gamurra. It was clear that you were not the first he’d ever had to undress, though the same could not be said in your end. The idea of Ezio being more experienced makes you momentarily self-conscious, but the feeling immediately slips away when his head travels under your chemise, kissing your upper thighs before untying your garters. 

The unexpected feeling makes you squirm, giggling when Ezio finally emerges after sliding off your stockings. 

One last layer of thin fabric separates your body from complete bareness, which Ezio is eager to remove himself. And when he does, he stares at you like an unwrapped present, just taking in the full sight of you for a few silent seconds. 

Your lips part, but you do not have time to utter anything before he does so himself.

“You’re the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen, dolcezza.”

Rough fingers hover over the purple marks which grow on your skin, from your legs to your stomach. His ghostly touch caresses your hurt, expression morphing into something furious.

“The men who did this to you will pay,” He assures, and by the way he rubs the bruise on your waist with a tender brush of his thumb, you know you’re right to believe him.

“I should not have left you alone in Firenze.”

“No one could have predicted this, Ezio,” Breath ragged, you cannot look him in the eye as his hand inches upwards to cup your breast. “You mustn’t torture yourself for it.”

“I still should have been there,” His comment is idle, as if he’s not rolling your pebbled nipple under his thumb with devilish intent - to watch you come undone under his simple touch. “I want to make you feel good. To make it up to you.”

And though Ezio is the last person in the world who’d ever had to pay you back in any way, you nod desperately at what he says, lips parted to let out soft and unfamiliar mewls of pleasure. That damn smirk spreads on his lips when he sees just how eager you are, legs squirming under him in anticipation. 

“But let me be a bit bad before that, amore mio,” Suddenly, the warmth of his touch is replaced by a gust of cool when he stands up off of you, and you whine in protest. “I know. But I want to see you touch yourself first. Like you did last night.”

Incorporating yourself on the mattress, you watch as Ezio takes a step back from the bed, single-handedly beginning to undo the belts which hold his gear in place. 

“Show me how eager you are for me. Spread your legs.”

You swear you get a rush of pleasure similar to the one his touch provides when he talks like that, shyly unclasping your thighs to reveal yourself fully. His cape falls to the ground with a muted thud, and you realise just how many layers he’d have to undo before he put his hands on you. 

Ezio mutters a curse at the sight of you before him, realising how this was, if anything, the hardest task of self-restraint he’d ever accomplish. 

“Use your fingers. I want to see how wet you are.”

A sharp inhale rushes into your lungs when your fingers merely brush over your clit, sliding right into the slit you aid in spreading. Ezio’s breath turns as ragged as yours at the sight of your glistening core, aching in desperation to take him in full. 

“All that, and I barely even touched you,” Even in the tensest of moments, his cockiness shines through, a mask for his insatiable feeling of want. 

“Ezio,” His name comes out in a slur, and you swear you can see the twitch in his crotch at the unexpected callout. He watches as you give in to pleasure and start rubbing your fingers against your core, using your own slick to ease the movement. 

“Undress faster. I need you.”

“Fuck,” Two could play the talking game, and by the sound of his rushed mutter and the way his pace picks up, you know you have good stakes in it. He’s mesmerized at the way your sighs turn into moans, how your legs sensually shift up and down, sliding against the sheets in your search for that high. How the two fingers soon become three and four, now shamelessly teasing that bundle of nerves in charge of giving you pleasure. 

“Only two,” Ezio warns, now finally down to his loose shirt and pants. “Do not be greedy.”

“Hurry up, then,” You complain, daring enough to tease him with your words as you continue with your relentless pace. Back arching off the mattress, you let another dramatic moan fall through your lips when he removes his shirt, revealing part of what you’d spent days and nights fantasising about. 

It’s apparent he spends his days training and climbing through the city. You’d always thought the physique of men in the sculptures which adorned the Florentine streets was something divine and unattainable, but it was clear that Ezio was an exception to the rule. If you were to lean in and touch his abdomen, you’d expect to feel cool marble, not the warmth of his olive skin - every muscle in his body is defined, especially those of his arms and back, which bulge when he flexes them to remove his sleeves. You’re so smitten at the sight of him, that you almost forget about the fact that you’re pleasuring yourself in front of him, which he uses to his own advantage. 

“Is this how you want to act?” His tone is more playful than demanding, but it still sends a rush of adrenaline down your spine. Ezio crawls onto the bed, but doesn't get on top of you - instead, he quickly seizes your thighs and easily drags you towards him, to which you let out a surprised yelp. 

It makes him chuckle, hooking the back of your knees on his shoulders. You can’t help but flush under his gaze, seeing how his hungry look takes you in one last time before allowing himself to touch you. 

“Ora tocca a me.”

You don’t think you’ve ever felt something similar to the anticipation stirring in your stomach as Ezio dips down, pressing kisses and suckling skin around the inside of your thighs as he makes his way to your cunt. A wet lick of his tongue laps through your whole slit just to start, and the sensation immediately makes you tighten your legs around his head. 

This seems to amuse him, which in turn makes you moan louder, feeling the vibration of his chuckle ring through your body as he sucks on your bundle of nerves. Your mind had never even crossed this possibility, but it feels overwhelmingly good to have Ezio feast between your thighs. 

You settle into the feeling slowly, beginning to rock your hips in tandem as he helps your movements with the hands holding onto them. You don’t know what you prefer - if when he settles his lips on your clit, or when his tongue travels lower and teasingly dips deeper into you, letting you rub yourself against the arch of his nose. Either way, your mental debate is crushed when his tongue settles back higher and a finger emerges out of nowhere, gathering up your own slick. 

Only once had you ever dared to touch yourself, and even then, you hadn’t tried to push your fingers much deeper than just the surface. But now, Ezio was in control, and his dark eyes search your expression for discomfort as he starts to dip just one finger inside of you. 

It was a strange sensation, that of feeling something inside you, especially Ezio’s fingers: they were much different than yours, rough from the constant friction of climbing and weapon-wielding, while also considerably thicker. But he makes it work, curling his touch to reach a spot inside you which earns him the loudest call of his name and a hair pull. 

Your other hand falls on your mouth, mortified from embarrassment, but Ezio is fast to remove it. 

“I want to hear you.”

“The whole villa will!”

“I don’t care.”

He’s cracked the code to make you come undone, breathing quickening at a much faster rate than earlier. You can see what you’d only catched a glimpse of earlier by yourself, approaching you at a hurried pace, but Ezio sees it too: His lips and finger leave you and you feel like you crash back onto the mattress, looking down in despair. 

“You cannot come yet,” He denies, leaving his spot between your thighs before leaning over you. “I have to make sure you’ll be able to take me.”

Your cheek grows wet from his kisses and your own residue, which is still staining his chin. “I can do it.”

“Show me, then,” His voice seemed to have dipped an octave lower, now spoken directly into the shell of your ear. “With two fingers.”

Blinking quickly, you can only utter a huff at the digits which position themselves before your entrance before urgently nodding. 

It’s a more uncomfortable feeling than just one, but you’re distracted by Ezio’s mouth yet again. You can taste yourself on his tongue when he dips it between your lips, sloppily making out with you as his fingers finally bottom out. A few seconds are granted for you to settle into the feeling before he starts slowly pumping them in and out, pace measured but consistent, and the discomfort washes away to give path to pleasure. 

When he notices, you break under him, as Ezio picks up the rhythm to a wild one - you bite his lip in your attempt to muffle your sounds, which only seems to rile him up further. 

“Since you thought you could ignore what I say to make yourself come,” He teases you devilishly, “Let’s see how close we can get you without letting it happen.”

His tortuous pace and evil condition has you uttering a string of curses and pleas to continue which mingle with his name, all of which seem to harden the bulge that presses into your lower stomach. In the stir of the moment, you reach down and grab it into a handful, which makes his hips stutter and head fall into the crook of your neck with a huff. 

But Ezio is quick to counter your response, as he reaches to seize that hand with his only free one while beginning to suck at the skin between your neck and your shoulder. Your giggle had soon turned into a sigh, knowing for a fact that you’d have yet another purple mark on you the following morning. 

His multitasking is clearly working, because you see yourself almost reaching to touch the height of your orgasm before Ezio’s fingers plunge out of you with a slick noise, and you’re left denied for a third time that night. 

Frustration almost makes you want to cry, and your lover has noticed that. “Mi dispiace, dolcezza. I swear, I won’t torture you any longer,” Despite all of his teasing, his smile is as warm as ever, and you can’t help but returning it before grabbing his jaw and pulling him into another kiss. 

Before he reaches to undo his pants, he raises the fingers he’d had inside you and suddenly puts their tips into his mouth. 

“You taste as sweet as you look.”

“Ezio!” A loud laugh rips from the depths of your chest as you smack his bicep, watching him smile slyly. 

“See it yourself,” He retorts, offering both of his fingers by placing them in front of your mouth. You only raise a playful brow and stick your tongue out. 

It’s slightly salty, but neutral, though you’re not focusing on the flavor at all - you just watch how Ezio’s look turns from endearing to spellbound as you suck and lick on his fingers, circling your tongue around them to make sure they’re perfectly clean. It only lasts a few seconds before he pulls them out just to kiss you again, even more pent-up than before. 

You can feel his hands working between your bodies as he undoes his pants, stepping back from you as he finally goes to remove them. Involuntarily, your tongue dips out to wet your lips when his cock finally springs free - it’s thick, and large enough to leave an impression, if your eyes blowing wide open serve as any indication. Now you understood why he was so hell-bent on widening you up. 

“You will break me in half.”

“That is what I have been dreaming about doing,” His sly retort makes you blush, as you see the ceiling above you disappear once more behind his bulky shoulders. 

You stare down between your bodies while Ezio positions himself, greedily sliding his dick up and down your folds. The feeling makes you shudder, bracing onto him when just the tip begins to prod into your entrance. 

“We’ll take it slow,” He reassures, kissing your cheek and earlobe as his hips start to gradually move into yours. 

Once again, the start is a pain, but the way your breath falters and your hails dig into his shoulders serves as a guide to how much he could keep inching forwards. Eventually, his tip finds your bottom, and you both let a shuddery sigh of relief before daring to move once more.

It’s a whole different feeling - neither yours or Ezio’s fingers could ever compete with how his cock fills you completely, leaving no gap unattended. It’s a perfect fit, and by the way Ezio mutters a curse into your ear, he seems to have noticed the same thing. 

But then, he starts moving, and any painful stretch quickly vanishes to give foot to real, shared pleasure. Ezio knows how to keep and build his paces in a constant manner, and as he does, the pitch of your moans keeps increasing, hands tangling into whatever you can find - whether that be the now undone bedsheets, or his tied-up hair, which you purposefully tug. 

This makes Ezio utter a growl, which is more of a warning sign to you as his next thrust completely knocks the wind out of you. From then on, his speed doubles, and you find yourself arching your back up and off the mattress, completely lost in the pleasure. 

You chant his name like a bible hymn, once for every single time your mind has wandered back to him in the past few weeks. Once for every night he’d passed away from you, which could’ve been spent doing this instead. 

“You feel so fucking good,” And it’s like he’s reading your mind in that moment, because his hand snakes under your back to bring you impossibly closer. “We should have done this sooner.”

He seems amused at the way you cannot articulate a sentence, only nodding in between moans. One final, deep kiss is planted on your lips before Ezio slips out and turns your body over in a swift motion, leaving you to suddenly lay on your stomach. 

Uninterested in teasing you any longer, his strong hands anchor themselves on your lower stomach and lift your rear higher, aiming to facilitate his entrance. And when he does so, you swear you can see stars, because Ezio had somehow managed to fit himself even deeper and hadn’t given you a moment to assimilate it. 

Long gone was your previous concern of not being heard, unabashedly asking for more and more as Ezio’s pounding made the bedframe hit the wall and the canopy swing to the rhythm. You were sure you hadn’t just been heard by those sleeping in the villa, but by the whole of Monteriggioni, surely disturbing the peace of their early morning. 

Your grip on the bedsheets makes your knuckles whiten, wondering just how high Ezio’s stamina could possibly be as you glance back over your shoulder. The sight elicits a moan in itself - his skin, just like yours, was covered in a sheen that made his biceps and pectorals glow under the candlelight.

“Don’t look at me like that,” It’s something between a whine and a groan, which pulls him down to lay atop your back in search of your lips. His rhythm doesn’t falter, even in such an intimate position - your arched back perfectly fits his hardened abdomen, bodies melting into one. 

Lips trace a messy pattern across the skin of your neck and back, and just then, you feel it again, this time stronger than ever - a wild orgasm rips through your body as Ezio holds you close to him, blurring your vision for a couple of seconds. 

You’re out of breath. Never in your simple life had you thought that the human body was capable of experiencing such pleasures, but you were more than glad that none other than Ezio Auditore had been the one responsible for teasing them out of you. However, as you regain your senses and come down to your physical body, you feel it again: Ezio’s cock keeps pounding into you, and it shows no signs of stopping. 

Your sounds of pleasure soon turn into cries of it, a feeling so raw that you have to claw into the pillow before you just to get a grip of something.

“It’s too much,” You beg, feeling tears begin to well at the intense feeling.

“I know,” Ezio’s tone is comforting, pressing a small kiss to the crystalline drop that slides down your cheek. “But you can take it from me. I know you have one more in you, amore.”

When a sneaky pair of fingers manage to snake their way onto your clit, your head is thrown back in pleasure, too overwhelmed at every sensation: Ezio’s kisses and whispered praise, his skillful digits, and the way he keeps battering your hips into the mattress. All of it, combined with the fact that every nerve in your body seemed to be raw, manages to break the coil in your stomach for a second time, just moments after the other.

“Cazzo, you’re too fucking tight,” Your stacked orgasm had possibly tightened every muscle in your body, as the sensation inside you finally manages to snap Ezio’s pace and break his words. His forehead rests against you as you ride your wave, thrusts soon becoming quicker and sloppier. 

“Inside me,” You moan, only able to muster the strength for the two words which make Ezio come completely undone. 

One last, powerful thrust: it’s all you need to moan in tandem as your insides finally see themselves completely filled. Ezio’s groans are music to your ears as he empties himself inside you completely, finally letting his body fall over yours with a thump.

His weight would be crushing in any other circumstance, but now it feels comforting, grounding - letting your eyes close shut, you revel in his warmth until your breathing is synced, remaining in that comfortable silence.

It’s only broken by Ezio’s kiss to your lower neck, and the obscene sound of his cock being pulled out from you.

“We will clean up soon,” He promises, aiding in turning your body around so he can see the glow in your expression. “Are you okay?”

But you can only mutter a faint yes, which makes him smile as he brings you closer towards him. If anything, this was even more intimate than having him fuck you: his arms tangled around you and his breath on your warm skin, whispering sweet words while you felt his seed slowly spilling out of you.

“I can prepare a bath for us. Get ready for round two.”

You groan at his joke, making him utter a deep chuckle. “Does your stamina ever run out?!”

“Not when you’re nearby,” His tone is hungry again, wanting more as he teases your earlobe with his teeth. “We have a lot of time to make up for, no?”

“We do,” You laugh, head falling against his forehead. “But we have got all the time in the world now, haven't we?”

For some reason, your words make him stand straighter.

“You plan on staying?”

You can only look at him in confusion, before embarrassment suddenly overtakes you. Have you misunderstood all of it? Did he not want you there?

“I- I know you’re a busy man,” Hurried, you also fixed your position, worried eyes staring into his. “But nothing would make me happier than to stay with you, through whatever you have to do. That is, if you do want my company.”

He seems to notice his mistake quickly when your words come out meekly, a comforting hand raising to cup your face. “Of course I want it. There is nothing in the world I would want more,” Ezio sighs, clearly in a mental struggle. “But it worries me.”

“What does?”

“Putting you in this position,” He confesses it like a secret, voice low. “Life with me won’t be easy. It isn’t safe. And I would curse myself for eternity if something ever happened to you because of me.”

Reality dawns on you like a bucket of cold water: Ezio was scared. Tonight had been a preview of what could happen if you chose to stand by his side, and it had terrified him. You could see it in the way he looked at you like you might break, or vanish into thin air if he didn’t have a hand on you every second. He just needed some reassurance. 

“Ezio,” You hold his hand over your face, smiling softly. “I’d rather live a life of danger, than live a life without you.”

Your words seem to knock the wind out of him. “You cannot mean it…”

“I do,” You suddenly lean forwards, hovering right over his face. “Besides. If anything, choosing a beating over giving you away surely shows you that I am serious with my words.”

“Don’t remind me,” He groans guiltily, hands clasping your waist as you move to straddle him. 

“I mean it,” You’ll keep insisting until he breaks. “I mean it because love you, Ezio.”

Suddenly, it’s as if the silence in the room became denser than the air itself. The words had slipped out, and even though they came from a sincere place in your heart, you did not want to suddenly scare him by being too direct.

“Ezio, I…”

“I love you too.”

You both stare at each other with wide eyes, though it doesn’t take long before you dip in to kiss him deeply again. He nods as you repeat it over and over against his lips, and you know it’s true - the feeling had been bubbling in your chest for weeks on end, but only now had you realized that it was real, and it stemmed deep enough that you’d continue to put your life on the line for him it the situation called for it. You wanted a life with him. You were sure of it. 

No matter the cost.