Learning How To Live With Life
Chapter I: La Chagrin
The morning rays of sunlight feebly attempted to pierce the heavy drapes of midnight blue, failing miserably. I had laid in my bed half of the early morning hours, simply just waiting for the inspiration to get out of bed and continue with my life. Propping my head up some, I tried to glare at my clock, but, frustrated, I threw my head back down into the pillows. A sigh crossed my lips as I realized that today was the day I was supposed to get married.
Supposed. My fiancé had passed away just a couple months ago, apparently from an "accident." How could I believe that? Seriously? A single, solitary tear began to roll down my cheek, halting when it came to the opening of my night-shirt. That was the first time I had ever cried about him- about Robert.
But I suppose I'm being extremely too vague. What? With a life like mine, specifics don't really matter. Sometimes it takes all the strength I can muster to not fall off of the deep end. Everything's too complicated.
"Sister!" a tiny voice called out, "sister!" Rolling my eyes, I climbed out of my royal blue bed to open the door for my baby nephew. He always insisted on calling me, "sister," because his own parents died a mysterious death, leaving my mother to care for him. Poor kid. But Todd was my baby, my light in the aftershock of Robert's death. Fancy that death brought us two closer together.
"What is it?" I cooed, putting on the face the old women do whenever they see a baby in Wal-Mart. "Play," my nephew replied, a long string of gibberish flowing behind him. Todd reached up and clasped a fistful of my dark brown hair, beginning to tug. Slapping his hand, I let out a fierce, "no!" while he screamed Bloody Mary to the top of his lungs. Aside from being cute, my nephew was also quite the spoiled child.
"Go on," I started, lightly sending him to my mother, who, due to the circumstances, fled to the end of the hallway. Mom was terrifed he'd have flashbacks this early on of how his parents died. We didn't know how nor when they died, but we do know it wasn't all that pretty. I can faintly remember the police telling us that nothing was left of my brother except few mangled pieces of flesh. My sister-in-law wasn't even that fortunate: they never found her body.
Pulling my rich hair back, I tied it with a simple white ribbon and slowly proceeded to get ready. My wardrobe held such beautiful clothing, but I was extremely reluctant to wear any of it. That entire wardrobe was all that I had left of Robert; he bought me all of those clothes for our too-good-to-be-true honeymoon. What a proper phrase. I always dreamed of having all the things Robert promised me, things like love, affection, a true, bonded family. His death left more than just a full dresser of unused clothes, but also a heart that was torn at the seam. A heart that had no hope for tomorrow, mainly because my tomorrow was drearier than my today.
"We leave in ten hours," Altaïr growled from his chair, effectively scaring off our researcher, Aimée LeBlanc. "Ten hours?" Ezio drawled, "don't you think we should go a little sooner, maggiore?" The aggravation was sprawled across his face as plain as day.
"I do not see any infallibility in departing ten hours from this time," Aimée stated, her accent loaded down with a slight French pronouciation. Ezio rolled his eyes as Aimée smoothed back her pale blonde curls, with every other Assassin in the room scrutinizing her - except Altaïr. No, Altaïr often exalted Aimée upon a pedestal due to her almost always siding with him. Always. Aimée was his..."pet," if you will.
Me? Well, I'd like to say that I attended Le Cordon Bleu and that I have, at the minimum, ten degrees in the culinary arts, but I don't. No, I'm the cook: I'm, to say in the least, Haineux. Or at least, that's what everyone else calls me. My actual name is Jasper Church, but precious Aimée decided, that, by my naturally hateful nature, my name was Haineux. How lovely.
And I'm not only just the cook, I'm also the bitch. Apparently, I have to do everything that my amazing superiors tell me to do: I'm the servant. Misunderstood my ass! I do everything around here!
"Haineux, Haineux," someone called. Deciding to ignore them, I propped my legs up into my seat. At the moment we were in some sort of meeting, discussing when and where we were supposed to ambush the Templar agents. By now, I could possibly say that we, as a group, had been all over the United States. Along we way we found abandoned houses, vacation houses, and at the current moment, a motel in the middle of nowhere.
"Haineux," the voice called again, this time a bit more fiercely. "Okay, fine, bambino," and with that phrase I was pushed off of the rolling computer chair and straight away into the floor. "EZIO!" I screamed, causing Altaïr to halt mid-sentence and stare me down. This was not going to go over well.
"Seriously?" Altaïr asked, cocking an ebony brow and clenching his teeth. "Do you two need some alone time?" He asked, sarcasm dripping from his tone. Ezio looked ashamed, but I held my head high, a smirk on my lips. "No, we get enough of that on our missions," I retorted curtly. "Watch yourself," Ezio whispered into my ear: it might as well as been telling a pyschotic crack-head he couldn't do coke anymore.
But something inside me instantly simmered my anger down, or at least my frustration, leading me back to take notes like the good little bitch I am. Sometimes I get tired of this, this entire mission to bring the Templars down. Other times it's almost fun, to say in the least. Maybe my affections had something to do with it? I don't know. But I do, most definitely do know that Ezio Auditore da Firenze was sure as hell not sharing a bed with me tonight!