Assassin's Creed: Chronos (Ezio x OC)

26 - Secrets

December 18, 1477

Monteriggioni, Italy

One wouldn't think it was hard to just go up and ask someone to talk to them in private, but it was already ten in the morning, and Catherine hadn't been able to say more than a hello and the usual pleasantries to Ezio. Any attempts to ask to speak with him somewhere to tell him everything he deserved to know left her with her tongue tied and her gut clenching with anxious fear. She ended up just saying something different or so stupid that he looked at her weirdly before he laughed it off and then that was it. It happened every single time, and Catherine couldn't believe how ridiculous she was being or how it could be this hard. It shouldn't have been! It should have just been so easy to go over to get the talk going and just say everything.

Yet here she was, slapping a hand to her face once Ezio was beyond the door, out of sight, and unable to hear her make a loud sound of frustration. If she were near the wall she would have hit her head against it. She felt so stupid being like this. She just needed to say it. Just tell Ezio they needed to talk and take him out to the gardens away from everyone else and tell him the truth. It was simple! Wasn't it?

'Uuuuuuugh, this is getting ridiculous. I just... I need to calm down. I need to relax and then ask him. I'm too worked up... just need to get the nerves out. Just go out and help Claudia with the town. There needs to be some more repairs to things, so go out and do that and then ask him after or something,' she sighed mentally, rubbing at her brow. That would have to be the ticket, because she didn't really have any better ideas besides the original, which wasn't working.

So, with a sigh, she ran a hand through her hair and headed out of the Villa. It was a Rest Day, today, since it was snowing a bit too much and the air was colder than usual. Mario had deemed it not a good time to train—they could resist a lot, but he knew when to not push his soldiers and when not to have them fight. If it were a battle, it might be different, but this was training, and the city could use their help in repairs. The city-folk helped keep them warm with that, providing hot soup and breads, and blankets and cloaks to wrap around themselves. They also left their doors open for the men to come inside if they needed to sit by the fire for a while.

She was no different, and she kept her black cloak close as she stepped out into the light snow fall. It had been worse a few hours ago, but now it was tolerable. She puffed out a thing of steam from her hot breath and looked out on the city. It was covered in plenty of white, so most repairs would probably be on the ground or indoors.

"Catherine, come on—Claudia told me where we're needed today," Ezio shouted from the stairs, waving at her. She paused to sigh again, but nodded, and hurried after him. She might not have been able to ask him to talk, but she could still work with him. Oh, sometimes it got a little awkward, and he gave her an odd look, or he noticed when she wasn't talking as much as usual, but it wasn't like she couldn't be around him.

"What place is it today? Are we doing more to the artist spot?" she inquired as she walked by him, going around the ring.

"No, not today... speaking of, though, you should have them sell your works there," he grinned, but she just scoffed.

"Heeeelll noooo. No way. I could never do that. Now hush and tell me where we're going," she huffed, smacking his arm lightly. He laughed in return, and told her it was a house in the corners of the city, which hadn't got much work yet. He told her of the repairs to the windows and walls that were needed, and she listened closely, watching him. In part because she was hoping to find a moment to ask him, although it wouldn't come, but also because she was looking for the cracks in his happy façade. The work in the city had given him a wall to hide behind, and he kept up a strong face around her and the others, but she knew how he was. She'd seen him alone sometimes, staring at her drawings he'd asked to keep, and saw how forlorn he was.