An early morning seemed to be first to welcome a sleep hazy artist from a usual rest. He rubbed his half open blue eyes as he found his clothes and dressed before going out into his workshop. With a stiffled yawn, he came towards his workbench just before he heard a soft groan behind him.

Turning around had been what confirmed his suspitions. Dispite his guess that he'd be gone before he could even wake up, there laid his friend sprawled on his couch. The blanket was half pooled on the floor, and the only corner which seemed to stay clung to the man's trousers. One of his legs stretched out over the arm of the furnature, while the other was bent slightly and foot planted down into the cushion. One of his arms laid out, extended over the edge, meanwhile the other was bent and his fisted hand was parrelle to his head.

Leonardo smiled softly, then he picked up a piece of charcol his sketchbook. It wasn't often when he'd find Ezio so still and practically begging to be drawn, but whenever the artist came across an opprotunity, he'd take advantage of it. In moments, he started to etch out the beginnings of the shape of the pose, then begun to define everything he could see from his seat a couple yards away.

With his smile of content still clear of his face, he added in the blanket and the couch. It was especially rare when his friend when his friend would stay in one position long enough for him to finish. But this time, he was starting to think that he wouldn't have to make any guesses on anything.

Ezio then groan and turned over, back to Leonardo as his hand was limply hanging over his side. He could have sworn he heard him grumble something in his sleep. But it didn't even truely strike him as important. Sighing, he stared at the unshaded sketch. He could finish it later and get all the shading in. But right now, he could simply draw the current pose his friend was in. It didn't matter about the blanket anymore, consitering when Ezio had moved, the thing finally slipped and pooled on the wooden floor.

It had been about another few hours of calm silence before Ezio started to wake up. Leonardo realized when his friend snorted a breath. In record time, he hid the sketches and made it look like he hadn't been sitting that all this time. While Ezio blinked hazily and stretched in his awkward position with a yawn, Leonardo was cutting a piece of bread. Almost appearing like he was getting himself breakfast.

"Hmm? Wha'? What time is it?" Ezio yawned dazily from where he was still sprawled on the couch.

Leonardo looked to his clock, "Around noon, my friend."

"What?" The artist had turned just in time to see Ezio roll off the couch and sit rubbing his back on the floor. "Noon?" Leonardo smiled as he watched the gears in the assassin's head start to turn, and then the man stand up wobbily as if still hazy with sleep. "I- I have to meet Machiavelli! Merda! He's going to murder me!"

Although it was honestly halarious to watch his friend stress over this while he was pulling on his shirt and then his robes, he felt a little guilty. He could have woken him up so that he wouldn't be late at all. "I'm sorry, Ezio."

"For what?" His friend was in the middle of strapping on his thick belt when he looked up.

"I should have woken you up hours ago. But..." He looked down like a guilty child. "I found it interesting to draw you while you had been still."

Ezio just stared at him for a long moment, the expression on his bearded face a mix of confusion, irritation, and yet something else.

He was taken off guard when Ezio gave him a hug, "Then maybe I should stay the night more often."

Leonardo blushed and pressed into him to hide it. "You're not mad?"

Ezio pulled away and started towards the door. "Why would I be? At least you told me." Then he opened to door and started out. "Goodbye, amico mio."

Now alone, Leonardo sighed heavily, looking down at the sketches he had drawn. Then off some older ones he had long finished. "Goodbye, amore mio."