#worstassassin

FROM: Connor

Who’s the first to wake up in the morning: Funny that you say that.

Who’s the one to make breakfast: It’s usually Ezio, solely because Connor is more work oriented than he is at this point in time and is usuaaallly out of the house faster.

Who’s the one to serve the other breakfast in bed: It depends! It’s not something they do particularly often. Connor’ll do it on a special occasion like Valentine’s Day, Ezio will do it when Connor is visibly exhausted/upset/immobilized. Usually, they enjoy just eating alongside one another and stealing food off one anothe’s plates.

Who would suggest a quickie in the morning before work: Closest they’re getting to a quickie is quick kiss and a pinch of the cheek because they are busy men with things to do and Connor thinks that’s kind of gross, honestly.

Who suggests they both ditch work to lay around all day: Ezio. He wants a movie night or a romantic dinner date or even a practice fight–Connor is unfortunately in way too deep and succumbs on occasion. 

Who chooses the movies: It depends. It’s usually Connor, and it’s always something bizarre or childish–or a documentary. Like, it’s either something along the lines of Monsters Inc or the Human Centipede because Connor got a little too curious. They, unfortunately, watched the entire thing, because they enjoy the sweet embrace of death. They like watching historical documentaries and getting really angry or mocking them. When Ezio picks, it’s more often than not a cliche romance or something that can be categorized as a chickflick. Regardless of what they pick, they argue about at least two things the movie displays or has to offer.

Who initiates kissing during the movie, thus distracting the other from the movie all together: They’re usually too immersed to even try it, but of course it’s Ezio. And of course, Connor is not having that shit, because Boo is in Sully’s apartment and he needs to know what’s happening next.

Who orders lunch: Ezio, usually, because he is Connor’s exasperated fiance and is the only reason this guy is still remembering to eat. 

Who steals food from the other’s plate without asking: They both do, but usualllyyy Connor.

Who curls up next to the other and falls asleep due to a full tummy: It depends! Connor I’d say, those are some of Ezio’s favorite nights.

Who distracts the other from trying to work at home: THEY BOTH DO, and it’s kind of awful. Connor wants Ezio to come outside and set these new explosives he bought and shoved into a soda bottle off. Ezio wants Connor to come over and cuddle with him. They can never seem to have both.

Who asks to go get ice cream like a five year old: CONNOR? CONNOR? LITERALLY CONNOR EVERY DAMN TIME?

Who takes pictures of their partner eating ice cream: Ezio, obviously, because Connor is too occupied by the ice cream itself.

Who makes a sexual joke about the dripping ice cream on their partner’s face: WHO DO YOU THINK.

Who cooks dinner: Ezio, usually–he’s pretty skilled for the most part.

Who cleans up the kitchen afterwards: Connor! It’s equal opportunity, Ezio tends to the cooking, Connor tends to the cleaning, sometimes they switch, sometimes they do it together.

Who stays up until 2 reading: Connor, definitely.

Who stares at their partner while their sleeping: They both do, because they’re mass murderers yet also disgusting romantics.

He wakes at the same time everyday: 4:28 AM.  Connor seldom sleeps; as erratic as the city itself. Some mornings, he attempts to shuffle out of bed, drawing a single leg out–only for Ezio to half consciously grasp him by the wrist, sleepily turning over as he mumbles sweet words to himself.

He’s a sensitive man, unfortunately, in both heart and…senses.

So other mornings, he lays in place, eyes fixated on the ceiling that hangs over them. He lays, and stares, and lays, and it’s 5 AM–wake up Ezio, wake up…and he lays, and stares, fixed in place as a warmth weighs against him. It’s 7:20 AM, and Ezio lets out a prolonged moan, arms stretched against the headboard of his bed and accompanied with a crack–”…Eh?”

“Oh. Good morning.”

Then there’s a furrow of the brow.

“…When did you wake?”

His eyes have yet to flicker away from the ceiling.

“Um. I do…not know…”

A sigh.

“And how did you rest?”

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine.”

Ezio does no more than stare at him, lips pursed into a pout, his eyes narrowed–a silence lingers, and at least he stoops forward. His fingers graze against Connor’s cheeks, and then his forehead…only to then press a flick of the fingers against his temple.

“Ow–! What!?”

“Stupido. Tell me if you aren’t resting well.”

“I…did not wish to wake you.”

His features harden, eyebrows sternly knitting together. But then a laugh; a smooth laugh as a benign smile, brimming with warmth, tugs at the corners of Ezio’s lips. He cups one of Connor’s cheeks, pressing a tender, delicate kiss to the other.

“It’s fine. Buongiorno to you as well.”

His smile is much like a virus, and a warmth fills Connor’s cheeks, and maybe his very being as it seeps into his bones–he blinks, and gradually does he rise.

At least some things would never change.

The amount of people in this city is almost astonishing. Then again, this nation has witnessed Rome during tourist season. He still finds a bit of awe despite his anger, however, at the array of people. So many, and so much variety. Especially in clothing, and while some choices put him off a bit, some are also either hilarious or amazing.

Romano sticks his hands in his pockets. It takes a moment to realize he’s been staring at the man for way too long to be comfortable, so he clears his throat and stops the weird silence.

“They claim that...marriage is the beginning of a new life.”

worstassassin

June 24th.

It was a two week delay--however, he’d never forget.

A creek is audible as the door gradually opens, a familiar figure visible through its slit–hurriedly, Connor lights the remaining candle and trudges up the stairs.

He waits, feet rhythmically tapping against the ground. A white, circular and somewhat extravagant cake that reads “HAPPY BIRTHDAY EZIO” lay at the center of the table. Soundlessly, he seats himself atop the stair railing and gradually slides down, his landing silent.

He approaches Ezio from behind, only to then place his hands atop his shoulders.

“I am late.”