Canvases toppled, tore and were reduced to ruin as Ezio pushed his way through the display of art, avoiding the horde of guards that had been alerted to his presence only moments ago. His target lay dying on the floor, blood pooling from the single stab wound from the assassin's newly developed blade, his eyes glazing over as the hand clutching the wound slumped to the floor. Screams of terror rang throughout the area as women sheltered their children and husbands their wives, he could hear the metallic clangs of swords hitting the concreted walls of the narrow passageway that their chase had taken a turn down. The wind blew hard against him, his hood flying back over his shoulders as he hurtled through a group of civilians blocking the arched doorway, crashing to the ground before scrambling to his feet haphazardly; all too aware of how close the guards seemed to be closing the distance between them.
"There he is, don't let him get away, I want him dead!" he heard the bellowing voice of one of the larger men following holler from behind him, before quickly slipping into a small alleyway from which many smaller side streets branched off from. His heartbeat was pounding heavily in his ears, feeling his chest growing tight as he struggled to breathe. Crouching down low behind scaffolding against the wall he froze, listening intently to his surroundings, not moving until he was certain he heard the guards disappear into the distance. The assassin let out a heavy breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and inhaled deeply as he stood up again, leaning his forehead against the wall as he wheezed painfully, dropping back down to his knees when he began to dry heave from the stench of blood covering his clothes; his body shaking violently with every painful motion.
The crowd began to slowly trickle past the alleyway as he sobbed loudly, tears running down his face from the force of his heaving as he began to breathe deeply, trying to force the rising lump in his throat back down. He didn't notice the guards standing behind him until he felt the sharp blow of the hilt of one of the guard's swords connect with the back of his head. Quickly snapping to his senses the best he could, Ezio scrambled to his feet, eyes wide with fear as he staggered to the side, regaining his balance and taking off down the alley once again. After ignoring a few streets he turned and ran out into a wide-open area where he could see a town official addressing a large crowd of civilians, silently slipping amongst them to listen in on the speech.
Guards patrolled the perimeter of the crowd, harassing anyone who could be suspected of hiding the assassin, Ezio tried to ignore them and listen to what the official was preaching. "Today is a dark day indeed as we mourn the fall of one of our most well known and molte amato members of alta società, Uberto Alberti," he hollered as the crowd moaned and waved their arms in despair. "Molte amato, much loved mio culo," he muttered under his breath as he squeezed his way out from the crowd on the opposite side to where the guards were shaking someone trying to get information. As he walked he felt reality hit him once again, starting to shake his body went cold and a tingling sensation started in his outer extremities and coursed across his body. He doubled over in the middle of the street, bracing his hands on his thighs, noticing how from his fingertips to his elbows were painted with the deep red of fresh blood. Voices were screaming in his head,murderer, psychopath, sinner, he began to hiss under his breath as he violently shook his head from side to side. Placing his palms flat on the wall beside him, he lent back and with full force heaved his forehead onto the hard surface. He reeled backwards, clutching his forehead with his hands, hazily opening an eye as he staggered into a few passers-by. "'Mmmso'ry," he drawled as he lurched forward, head spinning as he made his way forward.
Pulling his hood over his head he rounded a corner, slowing to a drunken walk as he followed the road. He moved as if he was drawn my some unknown force because it certainly wasn't because of his own accord. He stared blankly ahead as he passed merchants and other civilians; some of them hurrying away, others watched him as he passed. The sun began to set over the rooftops as candles illuminated the streets, merchants were packing up their wares while thieves and thugs began to roam freely. He didn't know where he was going until he came across a familiar stretch of buildings leading to the one place he knew he could go.
Swiftly, he stepped into the small alcove of the building, banging his fist repeatedly on the large wooden door. The door opened an inch with a small click as he heard shuffling coming from the behind door as the occupant moved back from the door into the middle of the room. "Ah, venire interno, Ezio. I was wondering when I'd see you again," came the ever-cheerful voice of Leonardo Da Vinci, who was bent over his workbench, studying a variety of different sketches and notes spread across the bench and onto the floor. Ezio slowly moved forward, staying in the shadows of the entrance, closing the door quietly behind him and stood awkwardly on the top step of the entrance platform.
He could hear Leonardo chattering on excitedly about something or other that he couldn't really make head nor tails of due to the pace of which the artist spoke at, it was enough to make even a coherent man confused. Watching on as Leonardo bustled around the workshop, waving his arms madly when he wanted to make emphasis on a certain point, arranging and rearranging papers compulsively and waving one of many compasses around airily. "Leonardo, if you're not careful, you'll poke somebody's eye out. And that would be the least of our troubles," he said exasperatedly, moving a foot over the edge of the small platform and dropping down onto the floor below, moving towards Leonardo apprehensively.
The artist looked up from his notes as Ezio moved closer, "Che cosa voi significano?" he asked, the smile disappearing from his face as Ezio moved into the light. Sheepishly, Ezio wrapped his cape around his body, trying to cover the blood on his arms and chest before Leonardo could see them properly. " I did it," he said as calmly as he could, watching Leonardo stand up and give him the up and the down with his eyes. "Ah, so Uberto is no more then? That's great news!" he said, suddenly cheerful again, eyes lighting up as he went back to arranging the papers. "Did anyone see you, or is that why you're here, because you're avoiding guards?" he said with a humorous inflection.
Ezio let his cape drop and flutter around him, shifting his weight from foot to foot, "I killed him," he repeated, staring purposefully at the preoccupied artist. "Yes, Ezio, I got that the first time you told me. But really, I need to know if anyone is looking for you in case I need to, ah; cover for you?" The assassin walked forward, closing the distance between them and stared at him pleadingly, "Leonardo, I killed someone."
Leonardo's face fell suddenly and turned to dismay when he realised what he was really saying, abandoning his work instantly as the other collapsed in his arms burying his head into the crook of his neck. Naturally, the artist wrapped his arms around Ezio, one around his shoulders and the other around his neck, pulling his hood back in the process. He stroked his hair and hushed softly, tightening his embrace around the assassin as he felt hands encircling his waist, balling fists in the fabric of his shirt. Ezio groaned as he fought back tears "Fermarsi questo, dai Ezio, don't do this," he mumbled, shaking his head in Leonardo's soft hair, which smelt faintly of paint and lavender. Leonardo rested his head atop Ezio's gently as he held him close, "It's okay, don't hold it in," he whispered as Ezio sniffled and relaxed in his embrace.
Neither of them moved until Leonardo pulled away slightly, trailing his hand down to hold onto Ezio's, pulling him along to an old lounge, covered in a fine silk fabric. He sat down and pulled the assassin down next to him, who complied without hesitation, scooting close to the artist as he ran a hand through his hair, pulling out the red ribbon keeping it in place. "Come on, Ezio, we're going to get you cleaned up," Leonardo said softly as he began to unbuckle the belt fastened tightly around Ezio's waist, pulling it off along with his glove and vambraces. From there he moved to his shirt and cape, bundling them together on his lap. He bit his lip when he saw that the blood had soaked through onto his skin, but thanked god that none of it appeared to have come from the assassin himself.
"Arms up," he cooed, pulling the light undershirt over Ezio's head as his arms raised, folding it and placing it atop the pile. Sniffling, Ezio sat there, goose bumps quickly beginning to rise all across his upper body as he let out an involuntary shudder. He looked up at Leonardo who had stood up from the couch, garments under is arm as he looked around the workshop. Ezio grabbed onto the sleeve of his shirt and yanked it just as the other began to walk away. "Please, per favore, don't leave me," he whimpered, a look of fear deep in his eyes. Leonardo turned and knelt down, "I'm not going anywhere, promessa, I'll be right back," he assured, pulling his sleeve away and striding off to another room of the workshop.
Ezio bought his knees up to his chest in attempt to cover himself, cover his vulnerability. He closed his eyes for a moment but snapped them back open again when all he could see were the events of the day past. Digging his nails into the fabric of his pants, he leant his head on his knees and began to rock back and forth gently, mumbling incoherently under his breath. Leonardo returned with a bowl of warm water and a clean washcloth, placing them on the floor as he knelt in front of Ezio. Gently, he lifted his head from his knees and pulled his legs down so his feet were on the floor. Rolling up his sleeves, he looked up at Ezio, face bright red, eyes swollen from crying and turning a deep purple where he had smashed his head into the wall, he caressed his cheek softly, stroking his thumb over the warm flesh before picking up the washcloth and immersing it in the water.
"You'll be okay, it'll be fine," Leonardo said, as he twisted the cloth, dripping water back into the bowl. Ezio remained silent as he felt the warm cloth sliding over his stomach, making his skin tingle as it trailed up to his chest and down his arms. As the cloth turned red, it was immersed once again in to the bowl and out as it was used to clean off the blood. The process was repeated longer than it was really necessary, Ezio had began to relax, now leaning back against the lounge with his arms lazily resting other side of his legs. Leonardo took this as a chance to take the bowl to his bench, grabbing a blanket he had draped over some boxes before returning back to Ezio.
Blowing out the last candles that had still been burning leaving only the moonlight filtering in through the windows, Leonardo curled up on one end of the couch, motioning for Ezio to join him. The assassin hesitated for a moment before crawling over and draping himself carelessly over the artist, wrapping his arms around the others neck as he nuzzled into his hair. Leonardo sighed contentedly, throwing the blanket over the both of them and enclosing his arms around the others waist. At that very moment in time, everything felt right. Even the fact that Ezio had just killed someone, that Leonardo was harbouring a murderer and could be put to trial and hanged for such a crime, besides that; everything just felt so right.
Leonardo shifted position slightly, trying not to disturb the other, in successfully doing so he closed his eyes and tried to sleep. Faintly, he could hear the sound of mumbling, he stopped breathing for a moment and listened intently when he recognised it was Ezio, "Mmm, Leo… Amore.. Mi," he mumbled softly. Leonardo opened his eyes to stare at him; upon realising he was asleep he smiled, gently placing a kiss to his forehead and closing his eyes again.
"Ti amo, Ezio. Ti amo anche."