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He barely managed to parry your blade. His weapon sparked yours and zinged. Beginning his attack, he tried to focus on disarming you.
But he couldn’t. You were distracting him.
His eyes attempted to lock onto the conflict of metal, but they couldn’t drift away from your eyes. They were burning with determination; you wouldn’t let him beat you this time.
With that in mind, you took one offending hit to your advantage, twisting your blade around his. Your tip slipped through his hilt. The next moment, Arno’s blade was across the room, and you stood, drenched in sweat, pointing your weapon at his chest.
“Well done, mon ami,” he breathed, a faint smile on his lips.
“Merci,” you replied, dropping to the floor tiredly. Arno came to join you.
For a few moments, the two of you just lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling, tracing the patterns with your gazes. Then, Arno made the mistake of looking at you.
He began to flush when he realised that he couldn’t look away for the life of him.
Although hair was clinging to your forehead with sweat, he thought you were the most beautiful thing in the room; certainly more beautiful than the ceiling. Both sleeves of your blue blouse were rolled up as high as they could go, showing muscular arms. Arno admired your strength, and his eyes followed a faint scar on your elbow– a minor mistake of your first mission together as proper assassins.
He knew why he was feeling like this; he was in love.
But he would never tell you… at least, those were his thoughts until today. Today, he noticed that he wasn’t the only one giving bashful looks. You seemed to blush a lot easier than a few months ago. He had to swallow his doubts, because there wouldn’t be another you; no one could make his heart glow and swell, or stomach ache with laughter, nor make his knees weak when you smile like you could.
He decided. It was now or never.
“Y/N?” Arno sat up slowly.
“Oui?” you caught his gaze.
He was going to make a fool out of himself. He either had to say it right then, or risk losing confidence.
“I… uh…” he sucked in a breath.
“Je t’aime, Y/N.”
A hot blush crept up your neck. You swallowed thickly. No one has ever said that to you before. How were you supposed to react?! Part of you wanted to bolt out of the room as fast as your legs could carry you, but you quickly scolded yourself for being so childish.
“La chance,” you laughed shyly. “Je t’aime aussi.”
Shocked and relieved, Arno let out a sigh. The earlier tension in the room was swept away by a lighter air. You sat up to become level with Arno. You had to meet him halfway, right?
The two of you looked at each other, and began leaning in.
Your lips were about to touch, and you were dying after all this anticipation.
The door opened with a bang and the two of you flew apart like shrapnel. Two assassins were coming in to train.
“Let’s continue this somewhere else, mon amour,” Arno breathed, grabbing your hand and leading you out of the room before anyone began asking any questions.
—
Translations:
Mon ami = My friend
Merci = Thank you
Oui = Yeah/Yes?
Je t’aime = I love you
La chance = That’s lucky
Je t’aime aussi = I love you too/also
Mon amour = My love