A game, or real life? (Ezio x reader)

The truth comes forth

My dearest diary,

As I sit here in Antonio's office, my mind drifts away. Only a few days have gone by since our arrival in Venezia, and as I most feared, we haven't been getting any rest. Before we were even able to reach Leonardo's workshop, a young thief got injured by a crossbow arrow during an assault to the Palazzo della Seta. Time was of the essence as she (of which we later discovered her name to be Rosa) began to lose consciousness, and we had no other choice but to have Ezio carry her to a gondola while I killed any surrounding guards. Once arrived at the thieves' guild, they were quick to tend to her wound as she spat curses and insults in fluid Italian. As I write, Rosa is sleeping, recovering from a fever. And as I write, Ezio is out and about, killing a few traitors under Antonio's command.

Ahh, Ezio... The mere act of writing his name onto this notebook brings a smile to my face. Ezio was quick to show me how he truly felt about me. I often woke up in his arms, with him caressing my hair. A couple of days ago, he no longer was by my side by the time I woke up. But he left a single, delicate red rose on his pillow. He's simply so caring, he even got teased by a few thieves, but mostly Antonio, who seems to be rather interested in our relationship.

I'm happy, don't get me wrong. Ezio's everything a woman could ever wish for. He's handsome, strong, caring, sweet, charismatic... yet, I can't help but be tormented by a small voice in the back of my mind. After so many years, I still didn't find the courage to tell him. Who I truly am, where I'm from, why I was sent here. Heck, only Mario and Paola know that I carry an Apple of Eden with me at all times. Mario told me about the prophecy, a while ago. About two pieces of Eden and the arrival of a Prophet. He believes that I somehow fit in this mysterious prediction left behind by Altaïr. I don't know what to believe, I'll be honest. Mario told me not to use it, no matter the urgency of the situation. After all, it'd only cause trouble. But I can't help but feel like I shouldn't be hiding this from Ezio. I've always been an honest woman, and this situation is killing me. Should I tell him everything, and risk the fact that he'll probably laugh and call me crazy? I fear I won't be able to hide this from him for much longer.

What would you do if you were in my shoes, daddy? Would you be honest? Or would you put on a mask and hide the truth indefinitely? Would you pretend that nothing's going o-

My hand seemed to be writing by its own, as if it had its proper consciousness. Before I realized it, I had poured my heart out into this page. I sighed as I put my quill down. Fuck, what was I supposed to do? I need a cup of coffee, my brain immediately decided, so without hesitating, I stood up and poured myself a cup. As I took a sip from the deliciously bitter beverage, my thoughts drifted back to when Antonio first held a cup of it out for us to taste. Ezio's face was priceless as I drank it without grimacing, unlike him. "It's a popular drink back where I'm from. I quite like it." I had simply replied, shrugging. The memory brought a small smile to my lips.

"Something tells me that you are thinking about Ezio." Came Rosa's soft voice, smiling knowingly. I quickly turned to her, gasping as I saw her leaning against the doorway. She still looked very weak, but if there's one thing I learned during these first few days, is that Rosa was a stubborn woman.

"Rosa! Ma che fai (What are you doing)?!  You should be in bed!" I protested, placing my cup down on the table so I could help her back to her bed. But she quickly shook her head and proceeded to sit on a chair, sighing softly.

"I have been in bed long enough." she curtly replied. Then her gaze turned to my open notebook. "Besides, you seemed to be rather disturbed. I wanted to see if you were alright."