A/N- To those who are confused, this is a drabble story that has direct relation to my other work, Irony of Eden. I collected a few drabbles and side-stories that I cut out of the original so that they wouldn't stall the plot. I'll be posting them here, as well as filling in the ten-year gap between the Battle of Forli and Bonfires of the Vanities. The pairing is EzioxEden for the most part, though there shall be a few... detachments, perhaps. On another note, the chapters will likely be out of order, though I'll try to keep them organized.

To those that haven't read the original story, there was a part in which Eden claims that she'll marry the first man who gets her breakfast in bed instead of a fancy dinner and daffodils of sunflowers instead of roses. Ezio took that quite literally...

The Proposal

The day before Eden leaves for Milan on Mario's call.

I woke up with the most euphoric feeling in my head, and the warm morning sun warming my hip. I sighed in content, burying into the sheets to hold on to my dream a while longer.

Then I remembered with a tiny laugh that it wasn't a dream I was so happy about.

"Good morning," I purred happily as I heard him enter through the door. Once he realized I wasn't sleeping any longer, Ezio stopped sneaking, and grinned brightly at me in hello. He came closer to the bed, sitting down beside me. The smell of bacon and eggs hit my nose deliciously, and I rose up from the bed, feeling even better than before. "What this?"

"Thought you'd like some breakfast," he shrugged, lightly handing me the tray. The small vase and the sunny daffodils in it barely even flinched in the process.

"Breakfast in bed and daffodils?" I laughed, starting at the food. "Careful, Ezio, a little more and I'd think you're proposing!"

He watched me eat for a few moments with a strange look in his eyes, until I started getting slightly uncomfortable. I looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What if I am?"

"Am what?" I furrowed my eyebrows in surprise.

"Proposing."

"To who?"

"You."

"What-"

"Will you marry me?" he finally sighed, realizing that this will not get anywhere.

Like a sack of flour over the head.

I blinked.

He blinked back.

The piece of bacon in my mouth suddenly seemed too large to swallow.

"Funny," I began slowly. "Out of character, though. Try something better."

"I'm not joking."

Oh fuck.

"So what now?"

"I don't know," she muttered. She looked lost, like a little girl confronted by something too large for her to comprehend. But her answer still stung.

"What are you going to do?" He ground out.

"I'm leaving for Milan in the morning."

"Is that a no, then?"

She didn't reply, but looked at him with such heartbreaking sadness that he felt something in his stomach drop, land, and explode into shards.

Finally, he muttered, "Fine. Enjoy yourself."