anachronismo | (no subject)

(no subject)

Even if Stephanie had access to all the paper in Rome, she didn't think she'd have enough room to write down all that sucked. Bathing sucked. The weather sucked. The clothing sucked. The Borgia family sucked. Lack of deodorant sucked. Lack of modern convenience sucked. Oh, what else? Getting a cut on your arm sucked, because then you worried about stitches and sterilization, and when you're pretty much the most medically advanced person in the history of ever (so far, and maybe that was probably an annoyed exaggeration), that meant you fixed yourself up as best you could, put your shirt back on, and went on with your day. That really sucked.

It was embarrassing, too. She was eager to help, eager to commit to Ezio and the Assassins, but not so eager to kill. The extra care it took to not spill blood (and not make it totally obvious what she was doing) cost her bumps and bruises. And this time, some skin and blood. She wasn't sure if she was more worried about the scar or Ezio noticing--if he hadn't already. She'd lost track of how many chats about killing they'd had, both in Rome and in Paradisa.

For now, she sat herself down at the desk and tried to look busy. She could work on other embarrassing things to distract herself from her "scratch"--like her understanding of local geography. Ugh. Rome was fucking confusing, even after all this time. It didn't make sense to her like Gotham had.

Maybe she'd just invent satellite imaging.

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He held her a little tighter at that, using her kiss as an opportunity to gently nuzzle his face against hers. Poor bambina.

"You need not thank me, nor worry. As long as the desire for justice burns in me, I am deathless."

She let her face stay close to his, even as she bit back a laugh. "Sorry. That just sounded like a line out of a novel I'd find at home or something."

Not that she doubted the sentiment behind it.

"It'll be weird if I spend the rest of my life here. I mean, I'm sure I'll adjust because I don't really have a choice, but the whole idea of getting old was weird enough when I was at home and had a better picture of it in my mind. Am I making sense? I hope I'm making sense."

"You are making as much sense as you could," he replied, his hand drifting down her side. "But if Paradisa is still out there, I am sure it will make things right eventually."

Cuddling up with Ezio always made her feel better. She sighed and went quiet, trying to think.

"But if it doesn't, and this is it, I'll be fine."

If she said it aloud, it had to be true. She was resilient and stubborn--a change of setting wasn't the end of the world.

"I've got one of the best friends I've ever had looking out for me. I'm pretty lucky, all things considered."

He wished he could soothe her concerns, or somehow convince her that life in his time was not a death sentence. Perhaps disappointing, to never see one's culture and people ever again, but certainly not something to be dreaded. He wished she could see the excitement of this time, appreciate it as a revolution, appreciate it for its greatest traits, rather than resenting it for what it isn't.

He doesn't know how to ease her worries save to offer her all he can... but without putting her into harm's way or in over her head.

"Good. I would only want the best for you in my time."

It would take some time for her to get to that point.

"I know. And I really appreciate everything you've done for me, and everything you're doing for me." It's a lot more consideration than she's used to. "I want to help lighten the load on your plate, not increase it."

She lightly tapped his chin with her index finger. She didn't like the mood she set. "... Rome's really pretty. So I won't have any problem learning its layout like the back of my hand, I think."

"I think you are capable of it too, Stephanie. After all... you are an intelligent young woman."

"Intelligent, but not as hot as I once was because my hair is short!" She turned her face to bury it into his shoulder. Her fake sob wasn't very convincing, since she sounded like she was trying not to laugh.

He ran his hand up her back with a chuckle.

"You will reclaim your beauty in time."

"I see the comforting words just sort of stop when it comes to this, hmm?" She didn't really mind her hair. Maybe she'd find some middle length, one day.

"Or is this revenge for when I complained so much when you tried to grow a beard when you were younger?"

That got a genuine laugh.

"I had forgotten all about that!"

She laughed, too. "You kissed my cheek and I felt like my face was being scraped off, remember? I was going to give you a second chance, but you decided to shave it off. I had you wrapped around my little finger."

"Ah! Yes. I would have done anything to please you, no matter how I complained or protested, I would have stopped at nothing to make you smile." He reached to pinch her side, playfully. "I still would."

That was a lot more like her Ezio. She laughed and squirmed at the pinch, lightly smacking his hand even if it made her arm ache to do so.

"You're fortunate that I'm not the type to abuse my power."

"You have a good heart," Ezio told her. "That is why you have such power."

"Birds of a feather stick together," she reminded, with a smile. Stick? Flock? Something like that. "I mean, look at you. Look what you're trying to do, trying to help all these people."

Stephanie and her turns of phrase. Not that they don't have similar, but they were amusing nonetheless.

"Not merely trying," he reminded her. "Succeeding. A few days ago, we took a fourth Borgia tower, liberating the district from their rule. Tonight, we will take another. And in the future, we take them all, and we will burn all evidence that the Borgia ever tried to subdue Rome."

"Succeeding. That probably requires a certain someone getting some sleep, though." While she certainly didn't want to stop talking, she didn't want to rob him of his rest.

"It does. So I suppose I will lay right here," he murmured, before rolling over to pin her, careful of her arm but sleepily-playful nonetheless. She would make a good pillow.

She rolled with a little oof, but laughed right after. Someone could still be an overgrown puppy, apparently.

"Good. Wouldn't have you anywhere else." She smiled up at him.

Like she'd resist.

He'd never stop being such a tactile guy.

"Good, as I have no intention of moving," he replied, shifting down to lay his head against her chest. "You are trapped."

"I'm a willing prisoner." She pressed a kiss to the top of his head before relaxing back into the pillows. The hand of her uninjured arm idly smoothed his hair back. "How I love my cuddly Assassin. Not only is he a wonderful friend, but he doubles as a blanket, too."

Luckily for Ezio, she'd learned to keep such comments to private conversations.

He chuckled, a deep hum against her body.

"Not too heavy of a blanket, I'd hope?"

"A little heavier than I remember you being in Paradisa, but nothing I can't handle. This is nice," she replied, honestly. He was never the only one who was a sucker for closeness. She felt needed, even if she knew she was probably more of a detriment to him actually getting sleep. Oh, well. Worth it.

"I have put on weight," he replied, and then added: "Mostly muscle, but I am not exactly climbing buildings just for the fun of it, these days."

He wasn't exactly a lean, lithe young man anymore, but a few extra pounds had done him well, even if they made him a bit thicker, a bit harder. That and he was working with injuries –– as well as he'd healed from the stab wound and the bullet wound, it wasn't as good as new.