Connor was living with Haytham for a number of reasons. One of them was that he could better monitor the movements of the Templar Grandmaster if they shared living quarters. Another few reasons dealt with the newly forged treaty between the American Brotherhood and Templar Order. If both of them lived in the same place, it encouraged the others to get along with one another better… And if the two of them did private things behind closed doors… That was no one's business but their own.

His father had been dealing with truly horrific amounts of paperwork for the past three days, and it felt as though every other hour a courier would come with even more papers for the Templar to deal with – and the couriers left with almost as much correspondence. Connor had been highly tempted to try and intercept some of it, to try and figure out what had Haytham's people in such an uproar. His Assassins had reported that things were a bit more tense than usual:

The tension between the patriots and the loyalists and British soldiers were threatening to boil over into violence in the major cities. Particularly since the Patriot army had won a decisive victory a little over a month ago, and both the French and Spanish Empires were deciding to start lending more aid to the resistance fighters. Their reasons had likely more to do with annoying the British, rather than believing in the freedoms that the Patriot leadership claimed to want for all those who lived within the contested lands - lands in which those European powers held colonies as well… And they would respond with force, as they had in the past, if their colonies attempted to rebel against them. Then again, the Templars were much more entrenched in the leadership on both sides of the conflict and would thus have access to information that his recruits did not and could not easily obtain.

Haytham had been working very hard recently – his fingertips stained black with ink and candles burning long and low into the night. Connor had made sure that they were well-stocked on ink and parchment, having ran out of the house a couple of times to acquire those supplies before they ran out and his beloved was forced to stop dealing with whatever bit of madness that had struck The Templar's Order.

Although anticipating when Haytham might want to eat and bringing up something warm a little before then so as to not break the other's concentration (and get snapped at irritably) was difficult – and Connor had switched to bread with meat and cheese because though the meat was not quite as tasty as it was when it was hot, they were still filling. The fact that each of the sandwiches and all of the tea was consumed filled Connor with a warm feeling that spread from his chest throughout his body. That through his efforts, Haytham was not working himself into a stupor over whatever bit of lunacy that the Templars were in uproar over. At night, Connor kept the cooling candle wax from ruining the parchments that Haytham had been reading or writing on. Connor made sure to gently clean his lover's fingers off the best that he could as the other was slumped over the table, sleeping on it as he had dropped his head on the table, too tired to continue working.

Connor was torn between trying to pick up Haytham (trying not to wake the other up in the process) and carry him off to bed – and as Haytham was usually a very light sleeper, given the nature of the work, it would probably not end well for either one of them – or he could bring a blanket and a pillow and try to make sure that his father would be as comfortable as he could in the chair the other had fallen asleep in, and gently tuck the pillow between Haytham's head and the top of the sturdy (if uncomfortable to rest on) desk. After a little bit of deliberation, Connor decided that it would be best if he did the latter – as he would have to wake Haytham up and offer to assist the other into bed so as to avoid potentially getting stabbed if the other woke up to someone holding the stubborn Templar unexpectedly.

It took no time at all for Connor to retrieve a blanket and pillow from their room. It was a bit trickier to tuck the blanket around his slumbering lover's form without waking the other up, but with patience (and in the light of the slowly dying fire – he would make sure to put a couple of smaller logs on the fire, so that the room would keep warm as Haytham cooled faster than he did) Connor managed to do so. Haytham had stirred a little a couple of times, but did not rouse to even partial awareness, as far as the Mentor Assassin could tell. As for the pillow… Connor switched out the stack of paperwork that the other had been resting his arms and head on for the pillow, making sure the switch happened swiftly, so that the movement (hopefully) did not wake Haytham.

It was a great temptation to flick through the pages, to read what he could from the papers in his hand in an attempt to figure out what the hell was going on… But it would be a breach in his beloved's trust (which was a fragile and slowly growing thing) and if the other found out that Connor broke it… Something seized painfully in his chest and his body moved without conscious thought, carefully placing the stack of papers within easy reach of the Templar Grandmaster, in case the other had not finished them.

Connor silently padded out of the room, resolving to make one of the Englishman's favorite breakfasts - a fiddly, multi-course meal but one that Connor was determined to make for the other. Perhaps it would encourage his lover to pause in his work for a short time to take care of himself… Not that Connor was worried about Haytham. The older man could take care of himself perfectly fine. He was just… Making sure that the Templar Grandmaster with whom he had a treaty with did not lose his mind by sitting still for so long. Perhaps he could gently encourage the other to come outside with him tomorrow - to check to see how their people were doing by observing them and as a stretch of the legs?

One (intricate) cookbook recipe followed in exacting detail later, found the Mentor of the American Brotherhood only slightly covered in eggs and flour (among other things). He had remembered to wear an apron, it helped keep the clothes that he was wearing clean (breeches and a shirt – it was warm enough for Connor to not mind going without a shirt – besides as far as he knew, they were not going to be having any company but the last time he did that, Haytham stuttered and stared at him until Connor changed). It did help – and the pockets on the front of the apron helped to tuck in the spices that he needed at different points of the recipe into a place where he could more easily reach it.

Connor found a tray to arrange everything on – he had been in a couple of the best Taverns in new york at Haytham's request and noted that they made the food look as appealing as it tasted and had tried to imitate that with what he thought might look good – the tea would finish steeping as he brought it up to his beloved, the dishes were balanced perfectly and as it was not-quite sunrise, Haytham was not yet awake.

He moved soundlessly through the house, opening the door to his father's study and setting down the tray and arranging the plates so that Haytham would likely take notice of them, but he made sure not to put them on the paperwork , lest it crease or something. Connor turned away from Haytham, about to leave to finish cleaning up the (large) mess that was left in the kitchen. But he had the impetuous desire to kiss his lover – either on the lips (which might be tricky) or press a kiss to the other's cheek (which would be easier). He almost hummed softly to himself. He frequently sung or spoke quietly to himself when he was alone on the Frontier, and it was a habit that he often caught himself indulging in when he was in his beloved's house here in New York. Although if Haytham noticed the habit, he made no comment on it, which was odd as the other usually remarked on everything Connor did. Usually with a snarky comment. But if he hummed the sound might wake Haytham… and Haytham looked quite peaceful sleeping, despite the fact that it was uncomfortable to rest in a slumped over position like that.

The fire - which Connor had just re-lit, despite the crawling tension that nearly choked him every time he was so close to open flames – cast a warm light on half of Haytham's face (the other half was pressed against the pillow Connor had gotten the other last night). He looked at peace, some of the frown lines smoothed away. It highlighted the other's beautiful silver hair – which had become partially undone as Haytham's ribbon had slid partially whilst slumbering, fanning his face.

Connor moved soundlessly towards the other once again, pressing a loving kiss to Haytham's upturned cheek and lingered close to the other, tempted to re-tie the other's hair properly… But Connor was fairly certain he had pushed his luck in not waking his beloved up already and with a silent, wistful sigh, he left the room as quietly as he had left it. The warm feeling in his chest returning, Connor was finding that he was enjoying taking care of Haytham. He was concerned as to why Haytham had been so utterly absorbed by work as to forget to eat unless it was brought up to him, and only slept when he could no longer keep his eyes open…

Once the other awoke, Connor was going to ask what was going on, and if there was anything that he could do to help. He was also not going to accept any deflecting or vague statements either and would not be deterred by caustic comments, nor be pulled into an argument. Connor knew those were all ways that Haytham tried to distract him from a topic that his father did not want to talk about.