xxxvi λ winter

[assassino]

-------- Private -------

January 28th.

In some ways, I feel as though I am a ship adrift at sea, or at least a boat lost in a maze of canals. I do not know how to navigate a relationship with a woman from the future. The customs that are difficult enough in friendship prove even more complicated now. I know how a man might dictate a relationship in my time, but Lana is entirely different. If I commanded her, she would likely just be angry with me, so I am letting her make all of the decisions… it is strange, to say the least, but there is little I can do, even if I feel I am being emasculated.

Put like that, it all sounds very dramatic, but it feels as though that is the only way I can express it. It is one thing to be friends with women from the future, that I enjoy very much, but it is somehow different to call one your "girlfriend." I am just not used to being at one woman's beck and call.

I want to be prepared for this, yet I still feel lost… but I am still determined to prove to Molotov and the rest of them that I can be with a single woman and respect her wishes.

(It would be easier, though, if I were not always consumed with... frustrations. She will not even allow me to taste her.)

And what else plagues my mind? The Borgia, of course, as always… I fear Lucrezia will sabotage my relationships, and am concerned about that Cesare has been planning. I dare not place too many thoughts to the page, lest I bring bad luck upon myself.

Then there is Tim, who is Stephanie's "ex-boyfriend" –– I have yet to meet him, but I look forward to it. A bit of sporting fun would do me good.


x






----- Cesare Borgia -----


[written]

Salute.

I'd like to invite you to dinner. Just men –– no fair ladies this time.

E. Auditore.


-------------





Is it time for the snow to vanish into the ground yet? I hate snow. It is miserable to have to bundle oneself up like a Rossian just to go outdoors, and even more miserable to be indoors and wet in such heavy clothing.

Fuck winter, that is what I say.

Comments

[heloise]

I cannot decide if that was a compliment or an insult.

[secondchances]

I would never insult you.

[heloise]

Then I accept your compliment.

[secondchances]

And I gladly give it! You're welcome.

[heloise]

What if I ask which of us is prettier?

[secondchances]

You're the prettiest. We've been over this before.

[heloise]

Shall we keep your evaluation from Ezio for his sake?

[secondchances]

I'm sure he'd find some way to comfort himself. [He's so conceited.] Denial, you know.

[heloise]

I will not say a word.

[secondchances]

Good, good. We make a good team.