Phew! I haven't updated this in quite a while! I'm sorry! School just started, so i've been preoccupied with that, and on top of that i was sick! it sucks .

Disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed


I guess you could say I was tired. But, really, that was an understatement. I wasn't even paying attention when Mario was going into this whole description of Rodrigo Borgia, aka: the Spaniard. I all knew was that Ezio was leading me, and I went wherever he took me. When Mario began the celebration, Ezio took one look at me and said, "You don't look so good, mia cara. Why don't I take you up to bed?" I nodded sleepily, and allowed him to drag me to my room (now holding my hand, but I was too tired to notice. Though, I probably would've blushed like a tomato if I had).

When he opened my door, he lead me over to my bed, took my hat off, my bow, and the quiver of arrows, placing them quietly on my desk. With that, I expected him to leave, but no. Ohhhh no. He actually pushed me down gently, and kissed my forehead- again, very gently. That, I was awake enough to notice, and I stared at him like a deer in headlights (not that he'd know what that meant), and watched his retreating back as he left.

Yeah, it took me a while to get over the fact that he had just kissed my forehead, and for those butterflies to leave my stomach, but, within two or three minutes, I was out like a light. How many sayings would I have to explain to him?

Waking up was never my forte, but this morning had been especially different. You try waking up, and the first thing you see is Ezio's face. I screamed, quite loud actually, and flew off my bed, making some kind of weird choking sound as I fell. My ass hit the ground, hard, and my feet were still up on the bed, making for a very awkward position for Ezio to lean over and look at. "Whatcha do that fer?" he slurred.

"What the hell are you doing in my bed?!" I screamed.

Ezio looked around the room groggily. "Your bed? When did I get up here?"

My eyes narrowed. "Ezio, did you get drunk last night?"

He sat up, cross-legged, looking down at me, with my feet still on the bed, and my ass on the floor- pardon my French. "Non Io so (I don't know). Maybe. I do have a terrible headache, and my stomach doesn't feel so well."

I let out an exasperated sigh. "You did. You're hungover."

"I what?"

"You drank too much, Ezio. You're hungover. Sick for the rest of the day. Probably be best if you stay low today."

"Melina?"

"What?"

"I think I'm going to throw up."

"OH GEEZE!" I screamed, yanking him by his arm off my bed, and to the washroom. Completely forgetting that they didn't have a toilet (Very annoying, I might add), so I led him to the bathtub. He leant over it, and began to breathe really hard. I held his hair back for him, since it wasn't in its usual ribbon, and rubbed his back soothingly as he retched into the tub. He threw up a few times, probably five or six.

"Are you alright now?" I asked gently.

"Yes, I believe so," he answered in a shaky voice. His whole body was shaking, really.

"Stay here, I'm going to get you a wet towel." I returned within a few minutes. "Here," I said, pulling his face towards mine, and beginning to rub it gently with the towel. He looked terrible. He was all green, and his eyes were distant, though they locked with mine easily. I pulled away once finished, and placed my hands on my knees. "Now what am I going to do with that?" I said, gesturing to the tub.

"I'm sure someone will take care of it," he explained.

"I hate to say it, but good. I don't think I could handle that. I'd probably puke on top of it!" Which was true, really. I didn't have a strong stomach for smells like that. Blood didn't bother me, but mix in a horrible smell, and I'm gone.

"Grazie Melina," he said.

"Don't mention it," I told him, standing up. I held my hand out to him, using what strength I had to pull him up. He was so weak right now. "Why don't you spend the day in my room, hm?"

"But—" he began.

"Nope! That wasn't a question! You will spend the day in my room. You need to get better." I took no further initiative to pull him to my room, and lay him down on my bed. "Now rest," I ordered. "I'll be right back. I'm going to go get some medicine from the doctor."

"Please come back soon," he begged quietly, and I couldn't shake those butterflies. I had to admit, by spending all that time with him, I had developed a little crush on him.

I shut my door quietly, and descended the stairs to the foyer, where Mario awaited. "How's Ezio?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"He drank quite a bit last night. And I saw him go to your room," he explained.

"Ah, yes. He's really sick. Just threw up, actually. I'm going to get medicine for him now," I said, and began to leave, but Mario stopped me.

"He uh… said a few things last night, drunk, of course, but I think he really meant them."

I furrowed my brows. "What'd he say?" I half expected him to tell me that Ezio called me a bitch, whore, or something. And the other half, well I don't really know.

"He just… he really cares about you Melina." With those cryptic words, Mario left me hanging. I really wanted to go up to him and beg him to tell me what he said. But I didn't. I left the foyer, dumbstruck. Did he feel the same way I did? Or did he just consider me a close friend? But why would Mario say it like that if he just thought of me as a friend?

Before I knew it, I was in front of the doctor's shop. "Buongiorno, piccina," he greeted.

"Buongiorno, messere," I said, though those bird masks really creeped me out. "A friend of mine is really sick after drinking a lot last night. Do you have anything that can make him feel better, if only a little?"

"Ah… here!" he said as he handed me a small bottle of tonic. "This should ease his stomach and decrease any pain he has," he explained.

"Quanto (how much)?" I asked.

"No need to pay me, piccina. I know who you are. You aided in the killing of Vieri, sì?"

"Sort of…"

"And the 'him' you are talking about is Ezio?"

"Yes…"

"Then it is free, that boy has troubled our city enough," he told me, and although I couldn't see his mouth, I could see it in his eyes that he was smiling.

"Grazie, messere," I said, and turned, leaving.

I ventured back through the quaint little town, back to the quaint little villa. I ascended the stairs, and went back into my room, where I found Ezio curled into a ball. He was actually adorable, sickness or not. And I just noticed that his tunic (I also noticed he wasn't wearing his garbs), showed a little bit of his chest, and might I say that that little bit was mighty fine. Oh god, what's wrong with me?

"I was beginning to worry that you'd never come back," he muttered as he sat up.

Pouring the tonic into a spoon I took from the kitchen before I came up to my room, I held it out to him to take. Instead of that, he opened his mouth, and took the tonic that way. I blushed a little. "And why wouldn't I?" I asked, thinking this was all a little joking banter.

Surprisingly, his eyes saddened. "When I had killed Vieri, you looked so scared of me. I honestly thought you hated me."

I stood there, rigid. "Ezio, I don't think I could ever hate you," I assured.

Ezio was just full of surprises today! He grabbed my arm, and pulled me into his chest, wrapping both arms around my waist. "Thank god," he murmured into my hair, squeezing me closer. I seriously began to consider what Mario said. What if Ezio did feel the same way about me that I did about him?


hehehehe... fluff..