EZIO AUDITORE + INSOMNIA
G | MELODRAMATIC COMPLETE
THREE UNFINISHED LETTERS THAT WERE NEVER SENT.
Leonardo,
It is three in the morning and, as usual, I find myself awake. It has only been a few days since you asked me to leave you alone, but it feels like years.
I am not unaware of how ridiculous that sounds. We went weeks, even months not speaking while I was off on Brotherhood business and you were in your workshop. More than once, even. But there were letters and when I returned, your smile and warmth were there to welcome me. This?
This feels like waiting for execution. Is this the end? Do I at least get last rites?
I will not go quietly.
Leonardo,
It is three in the morning and I am awake. There is a cold space in the bed next to me. There was usually a space, of course, but now I feel it. Like a wound. I have never felt that space before. It aches, long after I have left my bed, and through, until it is time to return again.
Do you feel the loss of me the way I feel the loss of you?
My dearest Leonardo,
It is three in the morning and I miss you. More than our friendship allows. More than I can blame on false memories and magic.
More than I am brave enough to admit.
I will not send this letter, I know this. Breckentale was not true, I know this too. But I touch the space in the bed next to me and I wish I were not so afraid of asking you to fill it.
You asked for space! You, Leonardo, who not two months ago would likely have held me close even if I were covered in someone else's blood. And here I am daydreaming about there being no space between us at all.
I should be ashamed. But mostly I am just petrified. Has age made me cowardly?