𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐝𝐞𝐧 | 𝘈𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯'𝘴 𝘊𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥 |

8 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

Deimos

I walk away from the fence as soon as Stillman and Desmond disappear from my view, turning and backing away slightly as I almost collide with Hastings, Crane walking back into the Villa.

"Oop, sorry there." He says while fixing his glasses, a light shade of pink on his ears.

"It's fine." I nod and start walking behind the engineer, only to be stopped immediately.

"I—I want to apologize.." He darts his eyes everywhere but me, I raise a brow at this.

"Let's go inside. And what are you apologizing for?." I kindly wait for him to catch up and start walking at his pace as best as possible.

"For the.. well, for the whole.. you know, the comment of your people a while back.." I stop a bit away from the entrance and he follows suit.

Why this now? Why at all?.

"It.. it was nothing." I swallow the bittersweet taste of the memories, willing to remain at as much peace as I can with these people, and I can't be doing that if I get mad when he is simply apologizing.

The brunette nervously glances up and his brown eyes meet with mine, a brown brow quirked in question.

"Wh-what? You're—I mean.. you're not—not mad?." I shake my head as I look down, my change in attitude suddenly confusing him.

"Uncomfortable, yes. Mad... no. For I am still learning that you humans are curious in nature, and sometimes you cross boundaries you don't know exist." My words leave him visibly astonished as he keeps his mouth a bit open, blinking ever so slowly.

He coughs a bit and nods, smiling with a corner of his mouth. The man starts wringing his hands together in apparent expectation.

"Don't get mad.. or anything for what I will ask, but... you know I'm a historian?." I cock my head to the side.

"I thought you were a professor, was it?." I ask with sincerity since at some point while introducing each other, Crane called him a 'professor'.

He sighs and rolls his eyes, pressing the tip of his fingers on his eyes in slight annoyance.

"Dammit Crane. No, I—I was studying to become a university history professor, but that obviously went to shit when the Templars got to me." I can't help but widen my eyes slightly at his words.

"What did you do?." He sheepishly laughs and looks down.

"I was young-er and dumb enough to dig up their dirty work, old and new alike, and exposed them on the internet for the world to see. If it weren't for Rebecca I would've been a discarded project sample, for sure." I watch him stare at his shoes as he recounts the tale.

"One is extremely reckless when in early age, the important thing is that you learned and I'm sure you won't go around doing the same thing or worse. Now, what was it you were going to ask?." He gets nervous again as I bring up that there was a reason for this conversation.

"I—well I was gonna ask if—if you could.. I don't know, maybe—ah, help me with more information for the databases..." I sigh feeling astonished by his question.

He quickly raises his hands and tries to stop me from walking off, a look of slight panic on his young features.

"Don't take this the wrong way! I just—well not only for the database, like, info for just us.. or just me if you don't want it getting around! Listen, all I want is additional information and for your correction if I'm wrong. That's all. Nothing that you don't want to be written down won't be there unless you say otherwise." I glare at him only to see that behind his fearful face, a glint of hope lies hidden behind the rim of his glasses.

I've known this man for two months and he's trying to pry information from me!.

No. Wait. Calm.

I take a deep breath as I battle that loud voice within me and analyze the situation. He only wants additional information, on places, dates, people if I can. But I know where these questions will lead to eventually, considering I never met neither Altaïr or Ezio.

Burn the memories.

Could it be? I will not stay with these people any longer than they think.. what if this is a way to get rid of everything.. instead of being eaten away from the torment, I can maybe leave the heavy load.. or at least the stuff with less significance with people I am certain will not leave such stories and details in the hands of the enemy.

It is with a heavy conscious—and piece of mind—that I drown out the voice in my head. I turn to the young man who looks to be getting paler than what he is, and swallow hard.

"All the information you want, you will have it. With exceptions and time, of course." If his heart could come out his mouth and dance beside his slender happy frame, it would, for the relieved smile as well as fidgeting hands tell of how joyful he is that he is feeding his apparent passion for learning.

He happily extends his hand and clears his throat.

"Now that I think about it better, we started off on a strange foot. Not only talking in different languages, but also glaring at each other if I recall correctly. So let's start again. I'm your almost-know-it-all historian Shaun Hastings, a pleasure." He wears a smile that one would wear during a big celebration.

I produce the best smile I can with the corner of my mouth and extend my hand as well, clasping it to his warm one.

"Deimos, your source of information. Pleasure is all mine." His cheeks and ears get pink from our interaction, prompting him to quickly let go and adjust his glasses for the hundredth time.

Our brief partnership introduction is interrupted by Crane, who comes out looking for us, stopping at the doorframe and darting her eyes between us, the male clearing his throat and turning in his spot to look at her with wide eyes. A tiny smirk forms on her lips as her eyes set on Hastings.

"Come on you two, they opened the door. We got a P.O.E. to find." The young female goes ahead as he follows her, grumbling something under his breath, apparently against Crane. I shake my head, wondering in just what kind of messy people did I ended up with.

Hopefully, this partnership and the information exchanged will not take an undesired route.