Souls Through Time (EzioxOC/DesmondxOC)

Chapter 21 - Amelia

Finally, after what felt like an endless chase, Ezio slowed as they neared the rooftop of the Assassin's hideout. He lowered her gently, his hands lingering on her waist as he made sure she was steady. They were both breathing heavily, their faces flushed from the exertion and the night air, but neither made a move to step back. In the soft moonlight, they gazed at each other, a silent exchange passing between them.

"Are you alright?" Ezio's voice was soft, his eyes searching her face with a tenderness that caught her off guard.

Amelia nodded, a small, grateful smile breaking through her breathlessness. "I'm fine. Better than fine, actually. I haven't felt this alive in months."

A look of relief softened Ezio's features, though his eyes held a deeper warmth, something unspoken but unmistakable. "I'm glad to hear it," he said quietly. "But perhaps we should get inside before any more guards decide to come calling."

With his hand still resting at the small of her back, he guided her toward a hidden entrance on the rooftop. They slipped inside, the familiar scents of leather, parchment, and candle wax enveloping them as they descended into the heart of the hideout. Most of the Assassins had retired for the night, leaving the main room dimly lit, an air of calm settling over the space. Ezio led her to a secluded corner where a few comfortable chairs surrounded a low table, their worn leather upholstery softened by age and countless conversations.

As they sat, Amelia felt a wave of exhaustion washing over her, the events of the night finally catching up. She sank into the chair, the relief of its support settling into her bones. But Ezio remained standing for a moment, his gaze fixed on her with a quiet intensity. He seemed to be weighing his words, as though trying to decide how much to say.

At last, he sat down across from her, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he studied her face. "Amelia... you don't have to keep pushing yourself like this," he said, his voice low, each word laced with concern. "I know you want to move forward, to put everything behind you. But healing isn't something you can rush."

She looked down, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the leather armrest. "It's just... I don't want to feel helpless, Ezio," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Every time I slow down, every time I stop, I'm reminded of everything that happened. Of how powerless I felt."

"Maybe it's time we talked about it." Ezio said. Her head snapped up to look at him.

Her head snapped up, her breath catching at the unexpected suggestion. She opened her mouth, then closed it, suddenly unsure. The thought of speaking the words aloud was terrifying; it felt like dragging shadows into the light, exposing them—and herself—too much. She had kept it all hidden, buried beneath layers of training and discipline, hoping that time and silence would eventually erase the memories.

But Ezio's eyes held hers with a steady calm, patient but unyielding. He wasn't going to push her, but he wasn't going to let her run from it, either. There was no judgment in his gaze, only quiet understanding, a silent promise that he would be here no matter what she said.

"Ezio... I..." Her voice wavered, her hands twisting in her lap as she tried to gather the courage to continue. She looked away, her fingers trembling, her throat tightening. "I don't know if I can..."

"You don't have to say everything," he murmured gently. "Just... whatever you need to. Whatever you're ready to share."

A long silence stretched between them. The dim light softened the room, casting shadows that flickered like ghosts around them. She took a shaky breath, her mind racing back to the days she had been held captive, each memory vivid, raw, as if it had only happened yesterday.