Arno looked at the column of smoke from the far distance with pure curiosity. He was running on a narrow rooftop when he stopped in his track because of the sign of fire. It came from the Notre Dame, was the cathedral burning? The thought made his anxious. Then he realized something. (y/n)…
She went to the cathedral in the morning with another assassin. They had an important mission.
Arno quickly became scared. What if something happened to her? What if she is dead? He had to get there as fast as he could.
The jump from the rooftop strained his leg, but he couldn’t care less. He knew that he is faster on the empty streets. Plausibly everyone went to the Notre Dame.
A big crowd welcomed him to the cathedral. Arno had to trust his senses to find an assassin like him. (y/n)’s partner was nearby.
“What happened?” Arno asked the novice.
“The roof and the tower suddenly caught on fire.” Said the man, holding his upper arm, blood seeping through his fingers.
“Where is (y/n)?”
“I don’t know. She was behind me when we escaped out here.”
“What?” Shouted Arno with a distressed tone.
“I’m sorry master Dorian. She is probably dead by now."
"No.” Arno had a determined look in his eyes. “I’m going to…”
“Master please…”
“That’s my final choice. Go, find yourself a doctor and inform the council about what happened."
"Yes, Master.”
Arno watched the assassin leave, then pushed the people away to reach the big cathedral doors. The crowd behind him shouted and prayed loudly. He had to stop for a moment because of the burning heat. His robes became sweaty. But he had to go in. For (y/n)…
He pushed the doors with all his force blinded by the bright flames. He went in. Almost all of the roof was gone with one of the towers. Debris covered every part of the floor and smoke clouded his vision. Coughing he ripped down his hood to cover his mouth and nose with the cloth. Staggering between the sooty columns he tried to find her, searching every corner with no result. The chance that (y/n) might have been already dead just dawned on him. Only he could get to the second floor…
Arno dropped the remains of his hood then grabbed the closest ledge to him and clambered up to it. The heat increased as he got closer to the roof, which burned steadily.
“Hang on (y/n)” he whispered under his breath, pushing himself through scant spaces to avoid the towering flames. Getting up to the highest point he could find he looked around again. And finally, his implores were heard. Before the organ on the stone floor, (y/n) laid unconscious. Arno, hanging from the chandelier, took the leap managing to hold onto the carved handrails.
“(y/n)!” He shouted through the bluster of the collapsing building, but no answer came from his love. “(y/n)…” As he stroked her hair gently to get rid of the dust and ash he waited for any kind of movement to signal that she is alive. But her body laid still. No matter how hard Arno concentrated he couldn’t hear her breathing.
“Merde.” He cursed fate through slowly forming tears in his eyes. “I have to get you out of here. Or else I cant bear the weight of your death."
He hauled (y/n) up tightly pressing her against his chest, keeping her from harm. He found a rope swinging from a nearby beam so he used it to descend to the ground floor of the cathedral. He ran to the door just before the whole roof collapsed destroying the interior of the Notre Dame.
Arno drew a deep breath from the fresh air. People came to aid him, touching his robes, grabbing his arm, asking about (y/n), but all he wanted is to get away. For the last time, Arno pulled together all his strength, shoving away helping hands. The only safe place he could think of was the Café Theatre. He had to get you there.
Pushing people away he slowly made his way to the bridge leading to his hideout. He saw no guests and he was thankful for that, everybody left when the news about the cathedral reached the Café.
With wavering arms, Arno carried (y/n) up the stairs laying her onto his bed. Worry gnawed at him as he looked for any signs of life when he noticed (y/n)’s chest rising and falling. He let out the breath he was holding then quickly grabbed a piece of cloth to clean his lover’s skin.
"Now I know you’re still on this earth, just come back to me mon chéri…” He whispered.
Sleep was hard to find that night for Arno, he waited for (y/n)’s awakening, twiddling with his pocket watch to pass the time. But at the first rays of the morning sunlight, he tiredly fell into the world of dreams.
(y/n) woke up past noon. Her last memory was about the stifling fumes of the fire so she was surprised to find herself in a bed. In Arno’s bed, she realized as she recognized the room.
“Arno?” She called out for the assassin.
Arno winced at the end of the bed, tiredness leaving his eyes in a second.
“(y/n)?” He got up as he caught the glimpse of his lover awake.
“What happened Arno?"
"I saved you from the fate of the cathedral.”
“Wh… Is the Notre Dame…?” She tried to piece together the happenings.
“It’s gone. Well, most of it is.”
“And my partner?”
“He got ut safe.”
Worry left (y//n)’s features, crawling closer to Arno to bury her head into the crook of his neck.
“Thank you.”
“I had to save you,” Arno confessed. “I would die without you.”
“As I without you mon amur.”
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