Outside is a relief; even if it's nowhere near the heat of a club, the room the ball is being held in is still getting to the point of uncomfortable warmth, and Darcy welcomes the fresh breeze, taking a deep breath that shudders slightly on the exhale as Ezio brushes fingers along her chin. It is harder to read his expressions with the mask hiding his face, but she knows that tilt of his head, has seen the curious expression that accompanies it enough times to see it now, and her mouth quirks up.

"Out here, I can do this."

Completely abandoning the steps and form of the waltz, she wraps both arms around Ezio's neck and steps closer, swaying slightly. Awkward prom slow dance sway is a god. But there's something much more beautiful about this moment, a way in the swishing of her gown, of the mystery of the masks, of the fact that it's Ezio, that makes it so much better than any dance she's had before.