Assassin's Creed Modern One Shots

Arno's Birthday Special

"Happy birthday, amico mio!" He waltzed in, flopping onto the seat directly behind Arno, dropping an object onto his skull. Arno's eyes flicked up, determined to see whatever it was that Ezio had dumped on him. To no avail, he lifted it off to analyse his gift. Ezio, dare you say, kindly donated Arno a coronet; plastic but delicately painted gold, faux diamantes embedded into the surface. You could spot that he was unsettled by this, but after studying the offering he placed his crown back on, lopsided. He craned his neck back to model it for Ezio, who was more than satisfied with his taste in treasures. 'Treasures', more like bargain items. You were certain that Ezio had bought that from the dollar store, not skimming over the idea of a meaningful investment for his friend.

"Um, thanks, Ezio." He returned the greeting with apprehensive gratitude, puzzlement striking his features. Probably wondering why Ezio got him a plastic crown for three dollars.

"You are very welcome, Arno." Ezio bowed theatrically, jokingly honoured to be of service. "You know, there's a river in Firenze that has the same name..." It had to be accentuated yet again, of how much Ezio loved his country and culture. Verbose, the only word to describe the Italian blabbering about his home. He could talk for hours on end about it. Fascinating at first, but after too long it becomes tedious to listen to. You were pleased he was passionate about something other than food, partying and women, but you collectively agreed that Ezio should reduce any Italian to a bare minimum. You had slapped him clean across the face once to get him to silence, purely because he wasn't listening to anyone else and was so absorbed in the tale he was telling. Presumably, he'd learned from then on to detox from all the patriotism, which relieved the entirety of the group, not just you.

"We know Ezio. Just keep your mind on the Arno in the here and now. You remember, Arno Victor Dorian, the birthday boy? Got it? Now, keep it there, and stay there. Don't go wandering back off to Italy and down the river." You fired back, shooting him a warning shot, requesting he proceed with caution. He shrugged carelessly, wedging his Airpods in his ear canals to blast his obscure music.

"You had to go and say my full name, didn't you, ____?" Hearing Arno say that made you scoff involuntarily.

"Seriously? You think Ezio Auditore was paying attention? Come on, he wasn't even listening to half of what I said. I need a coffee, my tolerance levels for him are almost non-existent." Heaving a sigh, you outstretched your arms to straighten the tiara atop his head, the bus rolling nearer towards the educational building of torture.

***

Taking your seats in history class first period, you downed another gulp of your barista-made coffee, mind meandering to whatever was on Arno's conscience. With ease, you knew what held his attention and forced him into a state of brooding. You had bought the caffeinated drinks immediately before the bell sounded, and the Frenchman's noiselessness was atypical of him. On a normal day, he'd laugh with you, or humour you with some snarky quip. But on this specific, special day, he was lulled into reservation, fixated on the barista who was so attentive to perfecting his drink. You nudged him, tried to crack a joke, but to no resolution. He had isolated himself, and in all honesty, it was disheartening. You knew he was one to give his all when it came to romantic endeavours, but this was foolish. You wish you could tell him all you knew to prove to him that his spiralling notions were incorrect, but there was no stirring him. You'd made an oath to keep your lips zipped about the matter.

The secret you held was massive in regard to Arno's birthday. You and Élise exchanged text messages ranging from late night prior to early morning that very day. Your relationship with Élise were solely acquaintances, neither of you knowing the other incredibly well, but you had a few things in common, and kind of clicked after Arno introduced you both. What you had vaguely mentioned to Arno was true in all aspects: Élise was scheming something phenomenal. She had the whole celebration planned and — like you also said — to the finest point. She had taken photos of the decorations, listed everything she had bought to celebrate his birthday. It was sweet of her really, to plan all this without Arno having a single suspicion. Except she left the little detail of acting natural and wishing him a happy birthday out of her master plan. This is what got you here and Arno in a shambles. Nevertheless, you knew it would pay off eventually... except the birthday boy acted so off. You desperately wanted to spill the secret, but knowing of the consequences, you elected to fake your innocence. Interlocking his fingers between yours, you applied pressure to his hand, the one not holding a takeaway cup of coffee with an iron grip.