Sketchbook Scenario 1 (Ezio x Reader) 2

   Ezio sat resting on the roof of a building in Firenze staring down at a party happening down in a city square. He could attend, but he didn’t really think it would be wise since there would be many Templars down there. It would be nice to go to a party, the last time he’d been to one had been a while ago. He sheathed and unsheathed the blade concealed in the bracer on his forearm and he looked out to the harbor. He could pick out that single dock from that one day many years ago. He often thought of her. He wondered what she would look like now. She had been awfully pretty back then, he remembered. She had been worried for him then too. He knew that he could have “caught his death of cold” from walking around in sopping wet clothes. But she had been worth it. She had been kind. It was the first time he had ever liked someone. He had debated with himself whether or not he should go for her for a day and a half until he asked his mother what his father had done when he realized that he loved her.


   She had replied that one morning, she had found a freshly bloomed red-rose on her window sill. She didn’t realize that it was from her husband at first and thought that maybe it had fallen onto the sill, but then it became clearer and clearer that her future husband Giovanni Auditore had left it for her. Ezio had practically run out of the house, straight for the florist in the market and bought a rose that would be in full bloom by the next morning.


   He watched it and watered it carefully the rest of that day before he took it to (y/n)’s home the next morning. He climbed up the front of her house and found her window open. He left the rose gently on the sill before scurrying back down to the ground. He had run smiling back to his house, hoping a response would come in a few days.


   But when he went back a week later, the house was shut up tight. He climbed to her window to find that everything was gone. All the furniture was moved out. He knocked on the front door, but no answer came. A man had told him that no one was living there anymore, they had moved to Rome.


   Ezio had never been so upset in his life, but he pushed it aside seeing as they would never cross paths and recognize each other again. He looked down at the party once again. Oh well, he had exterminated the Templar threat from Firenze, what harm could be done in getting a little closer to the party.


   He noticed what house courtyard the party was being held in. It was (y/n)’s old home. the courtyard was done up with string lights and lanterns, casting a beautiful shade of pink, gold, and red on the space. Then he saw her. She stood there in the most beautiful dress he had ever seen. It was (f/c) with silver accents and she had on a beautiful silver chain necklace with a stone that matched her dress. She was older, taller, and she wasn’t chasing after Paolo shaking a tiny fist in the air, but it was her face, smile, and hair that showed him it was her. She still had that same smile that could light all of Italy for a thousand years.


“They say that a crush lasts a consecutive 4 months…”



   You walked gracefully through the crowd. It was strange how you could be surrounded by so many people and yet feel so alone. It had been 13 years since you had been in Firenze, so you were now 19. The people you had known as a child were all grown up and no longer your friends, but stuffy aristocrats with nothing better to do than conduct business with others or sit in a dusty office with paperwork. You wondered what Ezio would be doing. You had wondered if he would be here since you had found out that he was of nobility, his family had owned a bank. At least until corrupt government men had had his family hanged. Rumor had it that his mother and sister had gotten out alive. But Ezio had dropped off the face of the Earth.


   You walked to the outskirts of the party, and leaned on a small stone balcony looking off into the night. You sighed. Sometimes you wanted to give up waiting. Your mother and father had presented many suitors to you, all of them perfectly acceptable men who were kind, loving, generous, and caring. But they were not Ezio. Some would call you obsessed, others crazy. You always said that you were waiting for the right person. The men that your parents had picked just weren’t the right “material”. So you were a little picky.  Maybe it would just be easier if you just went with it and accepted a man that your parents selected.


   You had waited all of 19 years to so much as see his face again. It was hard, especially during a party like this where everybody had a partner to dance with. Suddenly, you heard someone come up next to you and clear their throat. You turned to see that it was Paolo, the boy who had stolen your sketchbook all those years ago. He was still taller than you and when you saw him, you still thought “snake.” He stepped over to you and  smiled at you like you were a prize to be won. “Well, well, well. Look who’s back in Firenze. The artist, signora (y/f/n) di...which is it Roma or Firenze?” he asked. You scowled at him. “It’s Firenze, Paolo. Now go away and hunt down some other girl,” you said crossing your arms and turning away, making it clear that his audience with you was over.


   “Oh, but I don’t want any other girl. Besides, I wish to make up for my past mistakes,” he said devilishly and grabbed your arm to spin you around. Your breathing quickened as you found yourself inches away from Paolo’s face. He was wearing a sadistic grin as you realized that you were stuck. He closed the gap between you and mashed his lips onto yours. It was uncomfortable and fast, and you wanted desperately to pull away, but there was no room. Not to mention, if you went over the side of the balcony, it wasn’t too far to the ground, but Paolo would get the whole show.


   You made uncomfortable, grossed-out noises, but you refused to let the kiss go any further. Oh no, you refused to open your mouth for this man. Any man, actually. Suddenly, you saw a tan finger tap Paolo’s shoulder. He waved a hand away, you hoped to high heavens that it was your father. You couldn’t see who it was past Paolo’s shoulder. Suddenly, a hand gripped Paolo’s shoulder and he was pulled away as someone said, “Ehi!” in a deep voice with quite a bit of bearing behind it. You didn’t mean to be offensive, but it most certainly wasn’t your father.


   A man dressed all in white with a cape and red sash swung Paolo around by his shoulder. He cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders. “Move aside, Assassino,” Paolo said. “Why ragazzo insignificante*? You want to get dirty?” he asked in reasonably deep but light-hearted and friendly voice. Paolo scowled at him and said, “No, that  puttana isn’t worth getting dirty for!” He spat in my direction. I gasped. The whole crowd gasped. The man in white stiffened considerably. Very quietly he said, “how dare you call her that?” Paolo gulped.


   The man in white struck cobra-fast at Paolo. He had a hidden blade on him somewhere, and he used it to slice his arm. Paolo screeched and fell back in pain. He gained his second wind and lashed out at the man in white. He grabbed Paolo by the arm and swung him around, kicking him in the behind as he did so. Paolo rushed him again and the man stepped aside, letting him run into his arm, he flipped him so he landed on his butt. Unfortunately, it backfired and Paolo pulled the man in the white down onto the ground with him. A fist fight began and several groups of people at the party moved back away from the area it was taking place in.


   The scuffle lasted about ten minutes before the man in white wound up on top and started beating the sense out of Paolo. Paolo had knocked his hood off and seemed to recognize the man. “Okay, okay, I yield. I go,” he said. The man got off of Paolo who lifted himself up and hurried away from the party, his pride severely wounded. You stood there watching as the man all in white nodded once and then began to dust his clothes off.


   People all over the courtyard seemed to have recognized him since whispers were erupting all over the courtyard. Unfortunately, you were too far away to hear. Finally, the man turned to you. His golden eyes glittered in the lamp light. It was him!


“...Any longer than that, well, that means you’re in love.”


   You must have looked shocked because he looked at you shocked and then reached for his hood, which was missing. His hair was still tied back in the same way, though he was dressed differently, you could still see his chest. It hadn’t bothered you then, but you had been younger then and it wasn’t so eye-catching. You both stared at each other for a very long time. All was silent around the courtyard. Ezio made the first move. He strode bravely up to you and bowed down kissing your hand. “T-thank you, for saving me,” you said to him. “Always in time to save something of yours signorina,” he said. He straightened and walked past you, but stopped and whispered in your ear, “Meet around the front of your house, signora?” You nodded slightly. He stepped further past you, pulling his hood up and vaulting over the balcony railing, taking the long way around to the house. You waited a few seconds before you stepped away from the balcony, doing your best not to run and follow after him after waiting for so long.


   You calmly walked through the slowly resuming party and found your father, coming up with your best excuse to leave and go inside. He took your hands in his and looked at you sadly. “I am so sorry my daughter. If I had known what Paolo was like, I would never have allowed him to come to this gathering. Only the best for my daughter,” he said. You smiled and looked down for a moment before saying, “Would you, uh, mind if I went inside. I don’t feel much like staying here, papa.” You tried to sound as choked up as possible. He smiled gently and nodded. You let go of his hands and made for the house.


   When you got inside and the doors were shut behind you, you took off running up the stairs to your room. You quickly changed out of your (f/c) gown and you pulled on a more floaty dress that didn’t have all the riggings in it of the same color. You let your hair down and let it fall gracefully down your back. Then, hiking up your skirts, you ran down the stairs and out the front door.


You had taken your sweet time, mind you, making sure you looked nice.



P.O.V change


   What was taking her so long? He hadn’t seen her in 19 years and he was glad to finally see the first girl he had ever fancied in his life again. She had looked fine  the last time he had seen her a few minutes ago. Maybe she was playing the waiting game, to see how far his patience could be tested.


   He had been working on his appearance and what he would say when he saw her again. He had straightened his uniform a dozen times at least and tried a dozen  things to say. “Ahem...Signora, it’s been a long time, and I’m glad to see you again. No that’s not right,” he said, mentally smacking himself. He saw a florist’s stand full of roses in full bloom. He shot over and plucked one off the stand.


   he stepped back over and cleared his throat again. “Um, signora, I know it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, and this might seem weird, but, uh, I like you, kind of alot. And, uh, I was wondering if, maybe, we could get to know each other a little, and then see where things go from there?” he practiced aloud, attempting to smoothen out his tiny speech and make his voice deeper. He cleared his throat a few more times before he heard a wooden door open and shut. he sucked in a deep breath and turned around. Why couldn’t it be as easy as it was when he was six?


   You shut the door behind you and walked down the front steps of your home. You could see him standing in the shadows, white, slim, and taller than you. You walked over to him and put a strand of your (h/c) hair behind your ear. You smiled as you approached when you heard him suck in a deep breath. You were about two feet away from his back when he spun around, face hidden under the shadow of a hood. He held out a blooming red rose to you. You took it and smiled at him. He was staring. You were too, you supposed. God, could that shirt be opened any wider?


   “Thank you signore,” you said, breaking the evening silence. He shook himself out of his reverie and smiled. “Oh, uh, you’re welcome, signora,” he said shyly. His golden eyes twinkled in the star light and he said, “It’s been a very long time.” You smiled up at him, your (e/c) orbs shining up into his amber ones. “Yes it has. But, rest assured, I never forgot you, signore Auditore,” you said. He smiled, looking fidgety and nervous. “Uh, Ezio, signora, call me Ezio, please,” he said. “Very well, Ezio, please call me (Y/n),” you said. It was happening so quickly, and you were so nervous. You had gone over in your head so many times what you would talk about, but you supposed everything had changed drastically over the years.


   You and he both opened your mouths to speak at the same time, and you started to laugh quietly. Suddenly, he stopped laughing and his head perked like he heard something. He shushed you, but he didn’t need to, you had heard it too and you stopped laughing. It sounded like armor clanking, horse hooves pounding on the stone streets, and men yelling. “This way! Now is the chance to kill the Assassino! He is distracted! Kill the young woman he is with as well, she is one of his cohorts!” came a familiar voice. “Paolo,” Ezio hissed under his breath.


   “(Y/n), return to your home and hide in the best place you can think of! I will lead them off and return when it is safe, but you must stay hidden and quiet!” he whispered to you, looking into your eyes with worry. He gripped you by your shoulders as he told you. You shook your head quickly. “No, not without you! You could be killed!” you said, feeling tears begin to rise behind your eyes. You almost never cried, this was not the time. You gripped his strong arms in return.


   “No, (Y/n). Go. Hide and be safe. I will return, I promise,” he said letting go of your shoulders. “Go, now while there is still time!” he whispered loudly. You nodded, swallowing back the tears. He promised. You let go of his arms and then you ran back across the quiet street. You slid through the door, shutting it quickly and quietly. You didn’t stop there, hiking up the skirt of your dress and running up the wooden stairs to your bedroom. You looked around in the unlit room for a place to hide. You then remembered your childhood hideaway behind your armoire. You pushed the large piece of furniture aside, something you used to not need to do, being short and thin so you could slide under it.


   You stepped behind it and then you pulled it back in place. You ran your finger along the dusty wall, searching for the paper thin ridge etched in. Your nail found purchase and you used it to pull the small opening open and then you looked at the dark shadow of the hole in the wall. It would be a bit of a squeeze, but this was where you played sometimes as a child, so you remembered there was a surprising amount of space.


   You crawled inside and then you reached out and grabbed the cover. You pulled it back into place and then sat in the dark silence of the wall. You swallowed when you heard Ezio shout, “Hey! You, Templar idiotas! Over here!” You heard the responding cries of “There he is!” “Assassino!” and “Get him!” Then you heard running feet. “Where’s the woman?” one of them yelled. “That’s her house! Find her parents! Search their house for her, they are surely compatrioti of the Assassino!” a voice that sounded alarmingly like Paolo shouted.


   You screwed your eyes shut when you heard the front door get kicked down and the sounds of guards trampling about in your house. There had to be at least 15 of them.You heard some as they passed your room and entered the others. You had left your door open, so your room might seem less suspicious. Unfortunately, it didn’t hold them off long. Two of them stomped into your room and looked around, tearing everything up. You even heard one of them throw open the doors to your armoire. You jumped as the doors hit their max and banged on their hinges. You stifled a yelp that rose in your throat.


   All was silent for a moment. Perhaps they had heard you. “Come one, it was nothing. One of the hinges squeaked is all. Come Berto,” one of them said to the other. They hurried out of your room and you opened your eyes, cool air hitting them and almost making you cry.  You clamped a sweaty palm over your mouth, relief flooding over you.


   A few minutes later, you heard a loud shriek that made you jump. It was followed closely by more and then many running footsteps. There was a loud strangled scream that made you cover your ears as you sat huddled and cramped in your hideaway. Sometime  during all the horror, you managed to fall asleep.







   You woke up several hours later. The very early morning birds were calling to one another. It must be before sunrise. You wondered what woke you up. Then you understood. “(Y/n)? (Y/n), bella? Are you here?” a quiet voice called. It wasn’t your father, and it wasn’t Paolo or a guard, but a voice you had longed to hear for the last several hours. “Ezio?” you called quietly. “Yes! (Y/n) it’s me! Where are you!” he called, likewise quietly. “Behind the armoire, Ezio,” you said happy that you were no longer alone.


   You heard the armoire being slid away with ease. He must be very strong. “No you’re not. Where are you? This is not a time for games,” he said. “I’m in the wall. Look,” you said, pushing the wall open. “Mio Dio, (Y/n) that’s brilliant,” he said crouching down and extending a hand for you to take. You stretched out your own hand and grabbed his. He pulled you out easily and you felt your stiff back crack a little as you straightened. “I spent all night in there,” you said dusting the dust and dirt collected on your satiny dress. “Ezio, what’s happening. And why is it so early?” you asked.


   He put his hand on your shoulder. “(Y/n) I am sorry that you got tangled up in this scompiglio,” he said. You looked down at the floor sadly. “It’s not your fault Ezio,” you said, though you didn’t know whose fault it was. He sighed. “Si, it is. I never should have gotten you involved,” he said. You looked up into his eyes, the liquid amber swimming in a pool of tears. “No. I wouldn’t have had it any other way,” you said, boldly raising your own hand it placing it on his arm. “You will after my next news,” he said. You felt a shiver of fear and nervousness crawl up your spine.


   “What?” you asked. He looked at you in the eye. “Your parents...they are accused of being compatriots with the Assassino, me. They accuse you of the same thing, though you remain safe. Your parents...did not make it,” he said sadly. Your eyes glazed over and your brain flatlined. Without even blinking, a tear found its way out of your eye and on a trail down your cheek. You shuddered and then you began to sob as a heavy burning pain gathered in your throat. You covered your face in your hands and then you began to all out cry, tears running a free way down your face. Ezio pulled you close to him and wrapped his strong arms around you.


   You stood there in his hold for you didn’t know how long until you had cried all your tears. You pulled away from him and wiped your tears away on your arm. You turned, sniffling, and looked out the window. The sun wasn’t too far from peeking over the far horizon. “So what is to happen me now?” you asked quietly. You heard him walk up behind you. “You need to get out of the city. And you need to stay as far away from me as possible,” he said sadly. You whipped around to face him. “No! You are all I have left, Auditore. I am not leaving you. I won’t!” you said forcefully, gripping his upper arms. He stared shocked into your eyes.


   It took a few moments for it to process with him, but his eyes seemed to lighten a little. “I know where we can go for now, until we can leave Firenze,” he said quietly, like he was trying to get around the same burning weight in his own throat. “Alright,” you said. But before he could do anything more, you lifted your hands from his arms and you pushed his hood down and you kissed him on the lips.

   It was his brain’s turn to flatline. He stood there like an idiota for a moment until he started to kiss back, moving his lips in unison with yours. He held your face in his hand and he wrapped his free arm around your back to pull you closer to him. For a moment you thought it would be funny if he dipped you. You smiled at that and giggled a little in your chest. But he didn’t, so you stopped and then just focused on the kiss and how wonderful it was. When you both had to pull away for air, you smiled at each other. “I suppose amore prima vista is real then,” he said, you nodded. “T-Ti amo,” you said. He stepped forward, closing the gap between you and caressed your cheek in his hand, rubbing it gently and affectionately with his thumb. “Ti amo troppo, mia bella,” he said in reply.