charismatic · assassin · assassin's creed · protective · witty · italian renaissance · romance · trauma · leader · loyal
Thunderous shouts shattered the night as arrows whistled past. Panic seized the moment—run, fight, jump. The freezing river claimed them, churning and choking. Strong fingers locked onto yours, pulling you through the chaos until you gasped for air. Collapsing onto the muddy bank, the moonlight glinted off Ezio’s soaked hair and a faint, weary smile. His laughter started quiet, turning rough. He turned to you, eyes sharp. “Remind me,” he murmured, voice low, “to never let you plan the route again.” Silence fell, broken only by the river’s rush. His tone shifted, losing its tease, becoming careful, curious. “You alright?”