"I never meant to bring you into this. I'm…sorry."
The words come out one night when you find him leaning over his desk in his cabin after waking up sometime in the middle of the night. Some of the candles were lit as he stared down into the candle's small flame. His head turned towards you, looking at you over his shoulder. Your body was still sore from the other day, having to fight for your life again. Just from the look on his face you could tell the guilt was eating away at him again.
He was blaming himself for what happened to you; the injuries you had received. He always did this whenever you were attacked, even more when you got hurt. He blamed himself for everything, for all the cuts and scars that were slowly covering your body similar to his.
You stared with softened eyes and bit your lip, slowly pulling the bed covers off of you and making your way towards him. "The secrecy, the endless danger, the hiding…I should've never taken you with me." Shay spoke lower now, ashamed almost. You stand next to him and rest your head on his arm, eyes drowsy as they stared into the same candle he had been. He turned to look at you. You looked up.
He shyly uttered your name. "I—I…"
"I would've followed you whether or not you wanted to take me along," you said quietly. Your hands wrapped around his. You remembered how you met that day in the market; Shay fumbling and tripping over his words to your amusement. You saw him again at the tavern you worked at later on that evening. One of the girls you worked with pointed out that he kept staring at you. When one of the regular drunkards began harassing you, he immediately stepped in and almost beat the man to a bloody pulp without trying. And when he offered to close up with you and walk you home, you couldn't find it in you to say "no" to him, especially with that look in his eye. You knew you were as smitten as he was when he kissed your hand as a farewell, smirking and arching an eyebrow when your face heated up. And when you heard that low chuckle for the very first time, you nearly fainted.
When he left you found yourself missing him, waiting anxiously for the next time you would see him, which wasn't long after. A fight had broken out on the street you were walking down between some gang members and him, all of which he killed efficiently and without much trouble. It was then that he had dragged you into his life as a Templar, his business and all of the risks that went along with being in his company. You left your old life behind; everyone you knew, family and friends.
You looked up at him and beamed. "I love you," you said confidently.
Shay swallowed hard, eyeing the bandages on your body that covered the wounds you had received from the day before from Assassins trying to take his life yet again. They were minor cuts and bruises, things you had gotten used to by now. But for him, he always fretted over them and blamed himself constantly.
His eyes narrowed as his face became grim. His hand squeezed yours. "I don't want to lose you," his voice quivered and cracked.
"Then don't let me go."
You two were a matching set. There was no sense of one deserting the other, no matter what was thrown at the two of you. You made up your mind.
Shay turned to face you and pushed himself off of the desk. He eyed you for a moment, reading the expression on your face. Shay smiled softly.
His hands rose to cup your face, thumbs brushing against the skin lightly as he lowered his head towards yours. He kissed you gently at first. Your hands rose to grip his as you kissed him back. You leaned into him and wrapped your arms around his neck, stood on the tips of your toes. One hand buried itself in your hair while the other dragged down your back and roughly grabbed your hip. His hands never left your body that night.
