A/N: I'm not dead; I swear! I have a bunch of short, short stories on my iPod, so I thought I'd publish all the ones I have. Sorry this is so short.
Francesco and Enu were screaming again. Again, they forgot to shove their fists in their mouths to stop themselves from screaming aloud. They looked at each other, like every other night. Tears in both eyes, they cannot shake off the fire memories. The memories of a friend and lover dying.
Francesco helf himself in his nakedness. He got up; his feet touching the too cold floor. Everything is too blue in this room. Not enough…warmth. Francesco walked to the opposite side, one bed down and crawled into Enu's bed. There, they sobbed and drowned. They don't even bother to lie down. Francesco just sat in Enu's lap and the two cried.
The Assassins were all awake, whether or not that have a mission in the morning, or the fact that they could sleep the day away. No, they cannot, and do not sleep. Not while the two strongest brothers were breaking, breaking, broken. Not while they can only hear their sobs and do nothing. Nothing can being Tessa back. Nothing, not even the Apple, or the Shroud.
Across a room, Il Mentore lies awake, wondering if he should let them cower in the darkness with their fears taking over them.
A/N: Short, I know. Kill me. But I have a lot of them, so it should make up for the length.