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Description
Federico Auditore x Reader ~ The rooftops

A gentle sea of grey mist masked the city, covering the cool, clean, cream of the buildings like low hanging clouds, only the terracotta of the rooftops peaked out, with chimney tops reaching the highest, like the tidy branches of man made trees, anticipating the warmth of the slow rising sun. You let a contented sign pass your lips, shifting your weight against the warm body you leaned against. “It's beautiful up here, it always is.” You murmured.

“The view has improved since you've joined me up here.” He chuckled when you slapped his arm, but he pulled you closer none the less, kissing your hair. You had almost not taken the chance, thinking the little romance wouldn't be worth heartbreak, you didn't ever think Federico Auditore would settle down or be serious with you, he was always the name on every girls lips, but you had taken that little leap of faith, and found he wasn't like his brother, all the girls were wooed by him that was true, but he paid them little attention, always following you around, teasing you gently, stealing your hair comb, hiding your coffee until you had searched everywhere only to turn around and see him holding it out to you in exchange for a kiss. “You look far away.” He muttered against your hair.

You blinked for a second, he wasn't wrong, you had been lost in thought, perhaps bought on by alcohol and being awake with him for the entire night watching the stars dazzle Firenze. “I was just thinking about us.”

“About how much you love me?” He teased, his dark eyes though shadowed from a sleepless night, still gleamed as he looked at you.

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Yes, but just everything, it's been whirlwind of a year.”

“Oh because you finally agreed to marry me?” He grinned, taking your hand and admiring the diamond ring you now always wore, it was like a piece of armour to you, you were all his and he was entirely yours, and you felt incredibly glad for that.

“Oh I was actually thinking about the baker changing the recipe on his famous date bread!” You mocked, laughing as he pouted. “Of course our engagement.”

He pecked your lips, “Amore.” He murmured, rubbing his thumb over your cheek, meeting your gaze softly. You only hummed in response, enjoying the sound of your mingled breaths. “I love you.” They were only words, the first time he had told you, you had both been drunk, you had almost misheard him on that night, but the look in his eyes told you exactly what he felt, and you had stayed together ever since, and you would always be together. You're life seemed so idyllic, you felt naive for feeling so sucked in by this feeling of true love, but you didn't want to stop falling, you didn't want to hit a bottom, but stay in the air, like the floating mist over the city.

“I love you more!” You brushed your nose against his.

“Oh no, in the competition of adoration for one another, I win.” He assured, letting his lips find yours, damp from the morning mists and tasting of the bitter-sweetness of fermented grapes, you sighed softly as his arms pulled your body closer to his warmth, shielding you against the early morning chill, his tongue finding yours lazily, tasting of wine from last night, but the sensation of his kiss was more addictive than any drink. You wanted to stay like this forever, on the rooftops away from everything, you loved these moments, cherished them in a little treasury deep in your heart. You pulled away, letting him hold your bottom lip in his teeth, pinching gently as you leaned back.

The city was waking up, the cathedrals bells were tolling, the sounds shifting like the shadows created by the rising sun, bakers were setting out their freshly baked goods, butchers hanging up fresh bloody meat, fish mongers calling out their catches, weavers, tailors, fullers, tanners would be opening their shops and stalls, craftsmen heading off to work, masons hard at their labour, carpenters chipping away at their tasks, millers beginning their slow grind for the day, bankers and the more wealthy merchants would leave their homes a little later, artists however would always work hours unpredictable by most, and between in all the calls of children playing and laughing. Even on the roof tops, high, high up here, the inexhaustible variety of life was clear.

“I don't want this life to ever change.”” You murmured, your lips still grazing his.

He tangled his fingers in your loose hair, smiling softly. “And for us to never change.”

*** ***

Maroon tiles leered out through the chocking mist that lay over the city, masking the graceful buildings, contorting them. You inhaled a shaky draught of breath, more tears began to spill and drizzle over your exhausted face. It was still early, the city was silent bar the odd stray bark of a dog, the mists looked like a heavy drape of mourning grey suffocating the streets below, darkening the dawn and holding back the watery light of the early sun. Pain surged up like sour bile in your throat, with every breath it seemed to grow, never reaching a point, but a continuous growth of loss, you shuddered, feeling glass slip between you fingers, hearing it shatter the still air of the pale dawn as it smashed against the tiles, but you stood numb. The knowledge that life would and was going on...without him, it was too much to bare sometimes.

“Federico.” You choked between tears, crumbling down like wet parchment, sitting amidst the shards of broken glass, you blindly clutched handfuls of it, squeezing against the bladed edged and feeling blood burst out through the many tiny slits on your hands. It was agony when you were sober, but when you drank you felt the pain raw and new, like a freshly opened wound, and you felt the pain again, grip like iron fingers at your heart, claw through your brain and shred it until all that was left was confusion and denial, the only clarity was the feeling of the cold morning air.

He was gone, dead, and you were alone in the world, you had to swallow that bitter realisation.

You closed your eyes, strands of lose hair clung dankly to your face, damp from the mists, you thought of him often, time didn't seem to change that, but you always though of him on the rooftops.

Description
Federico Auditore x Reader ~ The rooftops

A gentle sea of grey mist masked the city, covering the cool, clean, cream of the buildings like low hanging clouds, only the terracotta of the rooftops peaked out, with chimney tops reaching the highest, like the tidy branches of man made trees, anticipating the warmth of the slow rising sun. You let a contented sign pass your lips, shifting your weight against the warm body you leaned against. “It's beautiful up here, it always is.” You murmured.

“The view has improved since you've joined me up here.” He chuckled when you slapped his arm, but he pulled you closer none the less, kissing your hair. You had almost not taken the chance, thinking the little romance wouldn't be worth heartbreak, you didn't ever think Federico Auditore would settle down or be serious with you, he was always the name on every girls lips, but you had taken that little leap of faith, and found he wasn't like his brother, all the girls were wooed by him that was true, but he paid them little attention, always following you around, teasing you gently, stealing your hair comb, hiding your coffee until you had searched everywhere only to turn around and see him holding it out to you in exchange for a kiss. “You look far away.” He muttered against your hair.

You blinked for a second, he wasn't wrong, you had been lost in thought, perhaps bought on by alcohol and being awake with him for the entire night watching the stars dazzle Firenze. “I was just thinking about us.”

“About how much you love me?” He teased, his dark eyes though shadowed from a sleepless night, still gleamed as he looked at you.

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Yes, but just everything, it's been whirlwind of a year.”

“Oh because you finally agreed to marry me?” He grinned, taking your hand and admiring the diamond ring you now always wore, it was like a piece of armour to you, you were all his and he was entirely yours, and you felt incredibly glad for that.

“Oh I was actually thinking about the baker changing the recipe on his famous date bread!” You mocked, laughing as he pouted. “Of course our engagement.”

He pecked your lips, “Amore.” He murmured, rubbing his thumb over your cheek, meeting your gaze softly. You only hummed in response, enjoying the sound of your mingled breaths. “I love you.” They were only words, the first time he had told you, you had both been drunk, you had almost misheard him on that night, but the look in his eyes told you exactly what he felt, and you had stayed together ever since, and you would always be together. You're life seemed so idyllic, you felt naive for feeling so sucked in by this feeling of true love, but you didn't want to stop falling, you didn't want to hit a bottom, but stay in the air, like the floating mist over the city.

“I love you more!” You brushed your nose against his.

“Oh no, in the competition of adoration for one another, I win.” He assured, letting his lips find yours, damp from the morning mists and tasting of the bitter-sweetness of fermented grapes, you sighed softly as his arms pulled your body closer to his warmth, shielding you against the early morning chill, his tongue finding yours lazily, tasting of wine from last night, but the sensation of his kiss was more addictive than any drink. You wanted to stay like this forever, on the rooftops away from everything, you loved these moments, cherished them in a little treasury deep in your heart. You pulled away, letting him hold your bottom lip in his teeth, pinching gently as you leaned back.

The city was waking up, the cathedrals bells were tolling, the sounds shifting like the shadows created by the rising sun, bakers were setting out their freshly baked goods, butchers hanging up fresh bloody meat, fish mongers calling out their catches, weavers, tailors, fullers, tanners would be opening their shops and stalls, craftsmen heading off to work, masons hard at their labour, carpenters chipping away at their tasks, millers beginning their slow grind for the day, bankers and the more wealthy merchants would leave their homes a little later, artists however would always work hours unpredictable by most, and between in all the calls of children playing and laughing. Even on the roof tops, high, high up here, the inexhaustible variety of life was clear.

“I don't want this life to ever change.”” You murmured, your lips still grazing his.

He tangled his fingers in your loose hair, smiling softly. “And for us to never change.”

*** ***

Maroon tiles leered out through the chocking mist that lay over the city, masking the graceful buildings, contorting them. You inhaled a shaky draught of breath, more tears began to spill and drizzle over your exhausted face. It was still early, the city was silent bar the odd stray bark of a dog, the mists looked like a heavy drape of mourning grey suffocating the streets below, darkening the dawn and holding back the watery light of the early sun. Pain surged up like sour bile in your throat, with every breath it seemed to grow, never reaching a point, but a continuous growth of loss, you shuddered, feeling glass slip between you fingers, hearing it shatter the still air of the pale dawn as it smashed against the tiles, but you stood numb. The knowledge that life would and was going on...without him, it was too much to bare sometimes.

“Federico.” You choked between tears, crumbling down like wet parchment, sitting amidst the shards of broken glass, you blindly clutched handfuls of it, squeezing against the bladed edged and feeling blood burst out through the many tiny slits on your hands. It was agony when you were sober, but when you drank you felt the pain raw and new, like a freshly opened wound, and you felt the pain again, grip like iron fingers at your heart, claw through your brain and shred it until all that was left was confusion and denial, the only clarity was the feeling of the cold morning air.

He was gone, dead, and you were alone in the world, you had to swallow that bitter realisation.

You closed your eyes, strands of lose hair clung dankly to your face, damp from the mists, you thought of him often, time didn't seem to change that, but you always though of him on the rooftops.