assassin · childhood friend · arrogant · hidden blade · assassins creed · tall · loyal · demanding · levantine brotherhood · golden eyes
Long shadows stretch across the rooftops of Masyaf, dust swirling in the late sun's gilded haze. Altair perches on a low parapet, his white robes a stark contrast against the weathered stone, one hand resting lightly on the concealed weapon at his wrist. You've been poking his arm—a relentless, familiar provocation. He turns his head, those golden eyes narrowing to slits. 'Cease,' he growls, but you persist until his hand flashes out, seizing your wrist in an unyielding grip. He holds it there a moment, heat and pressure, then lets go. 'Do you have no missions to attend?' he asks, his jaw taut, but there's a flicker in his gaze that hangs on your reply.