He Cheats

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Altaïr: "I can't believe you!" you scream at the top of your lungs. "You really didn't think that I'd notice?"

"Calm down, you're overreacting," he brings to raise his voice as well. "She's nobody, (Y/n), I swear."

"You expect me to believe that shit?" you're eyes are tearing up heavily, which is distorting your beautiful face. "Give me your phone."

"What?" he goes quiet, eyes wide.

"You're phone," you insist, arms crossed angrily. "Give it so I can prove that you're a liar."

"I wasn't lying, (Y/n)!" he pleads, running his fingers though his short, dark hair.

"You said that you were going to the gym to do a late night session," you pause to take in a deep breath through you're tears. "You fucking left your gym bag here!"

And that's when he didn't have anything else to say.
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Ezio: "I thought I knew you!" you smash a plate onto the floor in frustration at your boyfriend. "Yet, here you are throwing lies at me."

"Per favore, mio principessa," he nervously laughs, dodging the shards of glass you're throwing at him. "Espetta!"

"And stop speaking in Italian, you know I have no idea what you're saying half the time, and I'm not in the mood right now," you have your hands dangerously at your hips.

"(Y/n), I'm sorry," is all he says in return.

"You're sorry? That's it?" steam begins to pour from your ears.

"She isn't who you think she is, amore mio," he persists and continues to speak in his native tongue. "We just seem to be very close-"

"Close enough that she's your girlfriend now and I'm you're side chick, si? Do you understand the way I fucking speak Italian? Huh? I bet she can speak Italian better than I can, huh?"

He wants to give you a world of pain with words but cares about you too much to do so.
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Connor: "Who is she?" you ask with so much agitation, wanting to stay calm but it just pours put of you. You're scrolling through pictures on his phone when you saw compromising photos a woman.

"Who?" he looks at the screen of his phone, his fae going white. "Oh..."

"I'll ask again, who is she?" you begin to breathe heavily, trying to maintain your emotions.

"I-I don't know," he shrugs, looking guilty in every way possible.

"How long have you been talking to her?" a few tears slide down your face, something you really didn't want him to see, but wanted him to feel even more guilty about.

"(Y/n), I can explain," he assures you, eyes darting to yours.

He can't think of anything but the truth. He isn't a liar. Not a very good one. Just, he can't lie to you.
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Edward: "Caught in the act, huh?" you sit on the armchair that faces the front door in your living room, turning on the lights to see your boyfriend with another girl. And by the looks of it, his pissed drunk (wow, shocker).

"(Y-Y/n)," he stutters, blinking quickly to think up a ruse or a lie to tell you. "What're you doing here?"

"In my own apartment?" you raise your eyebows, disgusted in the both of them. The girl blushes and frowns, knowing this can't be good. "I was going to sleep but you were supposed to be home two hours ago."

"I told you not to wait up," he pushes the girl behind him, to conceal his mistake.

"Yeah, I know," you nod in a monotone voice, hiding tears from the both of them. "I just wanted to know where you go out at night, what you do." You then notice a bunch of single dollar bills jutting from his pocket. "A strip club? That's not very like you."

He tells the girl to leave. Once he does so, you go to your room, throwing a pillow, a blanket, and twenty dollars cash at him before locking your door.
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Haytham: "I kept my mouth shut, dismissed the possibility, ignored it immensely when I probably shouldn't have," you take a short, ragged breath, "and now I can see I was right, all along."

"(Y/n), please," he urges for you to listen to his story, though it may not be convincing at all, and let you judge him later. "I'm sorry what you had witnessed, I'm truly sorry, my love. It was a mistake. And it deeply apologize."

"Don't...don't ever call me that again," you shake your head. "I thought you would be different from other men. Looks like you're all the same...no matter what they tell you."

"Please...please, (Y/n)," he begs, the face of yearning for your forgiveness is all he wears.

"In fact, don't ever talk to me again," you give a a quiet, straight look.

Your silence is the loudest cry.
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Desmond: "Get out," you sobbed, pushing him back againts the front door for him to leave. "Get out."

"(Y/n), baby, come on," he pleaded, his eyes burning as if they were ready to cry. "Don't be like that."

"You give me no choice. Another girl in my bed," you took a deep breath. "Get out."

"No - wait," he practically begs for your attention. "Listen to me. It was a mistake. People makes mistakes."

"Yeah, but this is one that is too damn unforgivable," you sat down and cried, waiting for him to leave.

He leaves, with only regret in his heart.

HAVE Y'ALL HEARD THE SONG ROSES BY THE CHAINSMOKERS

sorry if these were bad, i kept them unpublished for a couple of days because i thought i could rewrite them better but i guess not

the walking dead trailer tho!

okay enough about me and my fan girl problems

i love you all to death

*slytherin should've won the house cup*

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