Ezio is more than happy to help her into his lap, a hand roving up her thigh to scoot her as close to him as she'll go. The stairs don't bother him any, not after a great many years of tumbling through stables, across tile rooftops, on garden balconies and in secluded alleyways, and he'd tolerate anything for a lapful of pretty girl, this one most of all. His hands meander a little, slow but bold -- if she's worried about losing weight, he passionately disagrees, her loose clothes rucking up under his palms as he explores the shape of her underneath.