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UNREAD E-MAILS (16)	VOICEMAILS (04)	Ezio.Auditore | [ AVAILABLE ] Username: Auditore

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[historyrepeating]

[She's reluctant to release him when he pulls back, but all the same she lets him go if only so she can reach up and brush his tears from his cheeks, fingers gentle and lingering as though she can't stand not touching him.

She can't. It's a thing that she's come to accept at this point and it doesn't hurt that he seems to flourish under her touch, so she doesn't hold back. Not now, not when she knows how close she had come to losing him.]

If I believed that was true I wouldn't have accepted your proposal. There isn't anywhere I would rather be.

[She brings their linked hands up to her chest, presses his palm against where her heart would be, and while there's no beating under his hand there's the warmth of her body, the steady rise and fall of her synthetic breathing. There's a thrum of something that feels like life, and while she can't open her chest and point to her heart, her soul, this is where the intensity of her feelings for him comes from.

It is her heart, for all that it isn't a tangible thing, and he has hers just the same as she has his.]

I belong to you, Ezio. You will always be the only human I want to come home to.

[collectsfeathers]

[Gentle fingers wipe the remnants of tears that still linger upon his skin away, and it's utterly impossible to keep himself from leaning into her touch, to keep himself from chasing after it. It's undeniable that he flourishes under her affection, that he comes to life when he is with her, full of youth and energy. There had never been another who so easily brought everything positive about him to the surface so easily.

Would she be able to accept all of the negatives? Would she even be able to see them? Part of him feared what might happen if she saw those parts of his soul that were dark and ugly, filled with shattered glass and rough-edged stones. The parts of him were capable of causing other's to suffer, of bringing them pain. Of ending their lives. Would she still be able to look at him the same?

She brings his hand to her chest, to her heart, and it's so strange not to feel it beating against his palm. She's warm and solid and so very real but even now he has to remind himself that her heart isn't the same as his. It isn't an organ used to pump blood throughout her body, despite the thrum of life he so clearly feels beneath his fingertips. No, it's so much deeper than that, beyond anything his eyes can see or his hands can feel. It's what his soul feels he's near her, like he's suddenly found all of the missing pieces to a puzzle that has been broken for so long. It's her soul that calls to him, a siren song he can't deny. That he's never been able to deny.

The sky is blue, water is wet and she belongs to him as he belongs to her. As if it's the simplest, most natural thing in the entire world.

All it takes is canting his head forward just a fraction to close the space left between them, to press his lips against hers softly, slow and tender. He was alright with this, with the knowledge that she may also desire to return home to her fellow android. Anything, so long as she was happy, so long as she was at peace. Being her human was worth everything.

Only when his lungs begin to run out of air do his lips finally part from hers, and for what feels like an eternity all he does is simply allow himself to stare at her, to get lost in the depts of her eyes, in the curve of her lips, in the paleness of her skin.

She's so incredibly beautiful. And she's his.

Slow movements bring them to the edge of the couch where they sit, hands going to her waist, her thigh, holding her in place against him as he stands. As he carries through their darkened apartment into the room they now share. Only letting go of her once he reaches the bed, and then only long enough to deposit her upon the surface and crawl onto it after. It's easier like this, to wrap himself around her, to hold her close to him, to drop kisses into her hair, to her face, to her neck. To simply be with her, for as long as she'll allow.]

[historyrepeating]

[The parts of him that are so dark and violent are things that she knows she has within herself, things that she can hold up to him to judge and find them both flawed but still worthy of each other. He's perfect to her with or without the things he fears her knowing about one day, perfect because he works past those things, perfect because they have only made him stronger.

Perhaps she is blinded by her love for him, but she couldn't begin to care. When he looks at her the way he does, eyes red from crying but still so clear as he gazes up at her while she's in his lap, it's enough to make her happy for the rest of her synthetic life. She adores him and as long as he is by her side, nothing else matters. He stares and she flushes under the attention but doesn't look away, just gazes right back at him with clear adoration, fingertips carding through his hair or a gentle hand massaging the back of his neck soothingly, and it isn't until he lifts her up that she even realizes time has passed.

That's certainly a failing of some internal sensor, but it's hard for her to care.]

9S doesn't know what happened to me. He can never know.

[But that's a statement for outside of their bedroom, this space that feels almost sacred as he locks them inside it. 9S is never far from her heart and yet all she has room for once that door closes behind them is Ezio, his warm hands on her body, the soft feeling of familiar sheets against her skin as he lays her down.

She wraps her arms around him to guide him down to her, pressing a kiss to his forehead, his cheek, stealing one from his mouth. It's too easy to entwine her legs with his and make sure there's no space between them, to nuzzle her nose into his neck and indulge the need to be so closer to the one she loves so desperately.]

Whatever you need, I'll always be her for you, amore.

[collectsfeathers]

[9S doesn't know what happened to her, and there's something slightly shocking about that revelation. Perhaps she thought it best for him not to be aware of what would take place in the future. Perhaps it was fear from how he would react that had forced her to keep this awful secret buried so deeply within herself.

Was he the only one who knew now? The sole keeper of all of her secrets. He would take all of them, would hold them inside himself, would bury them where no one else could find if it meant she no longer had to carry the full weight and pain of them alone.

But he doesn't speak of it once that door has closed, both physical and metaphorical, keeping them separated and safe from the world outside. Beyond that barrier, it was only them, their space and their time. This room had always only ever been for her, for them.

They're so incredibly close, yet it still feels as if they're so far apart, leg's intertwined, arms wrapped tightly about one another. Lips seeking out skin, pressing into her shoulder, her neck, allowing as many kisses to be stolen from his lips as she wants.]

I need you, my love. Nothing more. [There's a desire there now, to tell her of the suffering of his past, to wrap up all of his secrets and give them to her, to have and to hold forever.] There are so many things I should tell you. But I do not know how to start.

[historyrepeating]

[The only one who does know is A2 because it had been by her hand that 2B had found the mercy of death, but that had been at her own choice. She had entrusted the future to A2, given her the task of watching over Earth for her as she died, and she knew that A2 had honored that promise. There's nothing at all between the two androids besides a deep gratitude on 2B's part, but that information can come later.

For now, she's more than happy to focus on this moment of comfort and reconnection. The fact that she had nearly lost him hits her again as she curls her body more securely against his, her hands pulling just a little too tightly at his shoulders to keep him where he is, her kisses coming with an edge of panic before he manages to soothe her, show her that everything is fine again.

With every kiss she feels grounded and safe, her entire body seeming to melt against his, and by the time he speaks most of her fears have been assuaged. When he speaks she strokes his hair, still trying to soothe, and steals one more kiss from him.]

Start with what burdens you the most, the thing that hurts you most. After that, everything is easy.

[collectsfeathers]

[There's such a sense of desperation behind each of her kisses, behind the way he holds him, clings to him, as if she's afraid he's going to disappear right before her eyes. But each one is answered in kind, with another soft press of lips, another gentle touch, fingers drawing along her back in long, soothing motions.

Giving her up may have seemed like the right thing to do, as though it would be better for everyone. But then, giving up Cristina, allowing her to be married to someone else had seemed like the good and proper thing to do too. And she had spent the rest of her life loving him, longing after him. He had already given up one great love, he would not force the same fate onto another.

How could he start with what burdened him most when all of it felt like such a great weight, drawing him down into an endless ocean of loss and suffering?

Drawing in a deep breath, eyes falling closed as he bent his head, resting it upon her own.]

Cristina. [How long has it been since he had spoken her name out loud?] We were so young when we met, but I fell for her the moment I saw her. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. [The only one who had ever compared was the one who was currently laying wrapped within his arms.] After the deaths of my father and brothers, I had to leave Firenze. I asked her to come with me, but she did not want to leave her family.

By the time I went back to her, she was already engaged to another. I thought it was for the best. To let her go. So I left her there to get married. It was years before I saw her again. She yelled at me for leaving her. That it didn't matter if I thought it was for the best because she loved me. And then she walked away.

[He wished now that he had never left her that day. That he had asked her again to come with him. But that wasn't the sort of life he wanted for her. He had seen what it did to Claudia. He couldn't have done that to Cristina.]

The last time I saw her, she was being attacked by Girolamo Savonarola's fanatics. I tried to save her, but it was too late. She died in my arms. Her last words were that she had always been with me. That she wished we could have had a second chance.