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Silence became a staple within the Forger household. In the evening after dinner, Anya would race to the television and sit with her eyes glued to it. No matter if it was a rerun or a similar iteration of a plot that had already happened in Spy Wars, Anya was always there. And so were Yor and Loid. Loid would either opt for a book, or a newspaper if he didn’t get to it in the morning. Yor found solace in their enjoyment; she really had no hobbies, but watching Anya’s eyes seemingly glow from the television screen and Loid’s concentrated expression as he read was enough for her.
Yor hated silence before. When her parents died and she only had her kid brother, it was lonesome. She couldn’t tell Yuri about her worries without worrying him. Being the oldest meant taking care of him at the expense of herself, so she did.
She remembered the nights being the worst. As they both laid on a dusty futon in the middle of a nearly barren room, Yuri would be fast asleep and Yor would be… awake. Yuri would get nightmares, but as long as Yor was there they weren’t usually bothersome. Although, Yuri’s presence never prevented hers. So, she would stay awake for hours on end until she eventually drifted to sleep.
Suffering in silence was a fate she knew all too well.
As she watched Bondman, a damsel in distress with long, pink hair, she thought idly that it was peculiar that Anya and Loid never talked so openly about his late wife, the mother of his child. She would never pry, it wouldn’t be right, but what if they never said anything because of her?
After a year of living with Anya and Loid, Yor knew she loved them. She felt like Anya was her own daughter that she had raised and birthed herself, and Anya rarely objected to any of her affections. It was a maternal sort of love, a familial love, that consumed her when she was with Anya. She would do anything for her if it meant she would be happy forever.
She loved Loid too. In the sense that she felt grateful that he was so willing to take her in, to do this marriage arrangement with someone he hardly knew. His kindness and patience were something she never had the luxury of being on the receiving end of. Romantic love was never in her wheelhouse. It was difficult to experience something like that when she was worried about what Yuri was going to eat that night.
What she felt for Loid was simply gratitude. She would say it over and over again, until she believed it. The burning feeling that spread through her chest when their fingers touched after handing each other a mug was a fluke. The active circuit of electricity that would enter her body and exit through her fingertips when their eyes met was only her body’s way of showing how appreciative she was of everything he’d done for her.
Anya had been put to bed around an hour later. The atmosphere of the room stayed nearly the same; Yor put on a soap opera she liked to catch every now and then and Loid switched from one book to another. The silence was welcome, and neither of them felt the need to speak. She nursed a cup of tea as she watched the main characters of the show discuss one’s late wife so openly.
Her eyes darted across the room, as if she was expecting to find something or someone spying on them. The characters comforted each other and honored the late wife’s memory by doing various thoughtful things. Yor wondered why they never visited her grave or why there were no photos around.
Maybe it was a sensitive topic. Maybe they didn’t want to disturb a woman who had already been laid to rest. There could have been so many reasons, yet it didn’t stop Yor from ungracefully blurting out, “What about your wife?”
Loid’s head whipped to her— He was rightfully confused, the conversation that led her to this was entirely in her head. A silent question formed on his face as he lowered his book, sticking a wooden bookmark in it. The look on his face was incredulous and Yor could already feel the heat creeping on her cheeks.
She doubled down anyway. “Y-Your late wife…? I just wonder about her… Neither of you talk about her and there aren’t any photos. I’ll understand if you don’t want to talk about it of course, but I hope you’re not speaking about her for my sake…”
His expression went from inquisitive to strained in a millisecond. Part of her wanted to take it back and apologize for overstepping, but he seemed open and willingly to share that part of his life with her. He’d already made his way over to her before she could object, sitting with the sort of body language that insinuated that he would love to talk about her.
She felt a slight pang in her chest.
“What do you want to know?” He asked.
She hadn’t planned on making it this far, she assumed Loid would hear her question and take the reins of the conversation. Of course, he would want to hear exactly what she wanted to know. She knew though, that he had no problem evading questions if you didn’t ask specifically what you wanted to know.
Yor nervously pulled at her hair as it cascaded down her collarbone, “I guess… Everything. Or anything, whatever you’re willing to tell me. I don’t want to pry, but what was she like? What did she look like? She must’ve been beautiful…”
If she was doing this for herself or for Loid, she couldn’t tell.
However, Loid took a deep breath after sipping his tea and looked at her kindly.
“She was. Very kind and excitable like Anya… She takes after her a lot. It’s hard to talk about her because of Anya, I don’t want to upset her.”
He eyed her curiously and she wasn’t sure how she wanted to continue this conversation. She wanted to know more… More about the woman that lived as a shadow in the house. It had to be disgraceful, she thought, to feel as though you’re competing with the dead. But when you know nothing of your predecessor, you have no choice but to wonder.
Loid broke their extended silence as he stood and began to rummage through a shelf across the room. Her heart leapt, hopped, and skipped when she realized he was most likely bringing a photo. She needed to see it, but she didn’t want to, but she had to.
He brought over an old, dusty scrapbook. Silently, they flipped through it— It seemed to be a photo album including the woman’s parents as well, so she said nothing. Until they turned the page once more and in front of her was a photo of the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen.
She wore a white dress and her hair was braided nicely over her shoulder, sparing a few stray hairs framing her face. Most of all, Yor could feel the radiance of her personality through the photo. She smiled brightly, her eyes were brown unlike Anya’s, but it was nice to understand where she inherited her beautiful hair. The photo looked as though it had been taken candidly and she wondered silently if Loid was the one to take it. She turned the photo over, fingertips caressing the back as she read: Evelyn, in cursive font, along with the year it was taken. She could recognize Loid’s handwriting anywhere.
Yor had forgotten where she was momentarily as scenes from the photo played throughout her mind as if she were present then.
“She’s gorgeous, Loid,” Yor stated.
Loid said nothing, merely watching close by as she flipped through the photos.
(He said nothing of the guilt he felt, showing her the falsified photo album. WISE always covered all their bases; It was inevitable that Yor would ask about his ‘deceased’ wife sooner or later. So, with Loid’s expertise in disguises and one of the female agents in WISE, they created a woman that never existed.)
As she stared carefully at each of the photos, she could feel herself getting choked up. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she willed them away. She could feel the way they loved each other through these photos and she couldn’t imagine how devastated they must have been to lose each other.
“You must have loved her a lot,” She said abruptly.
Yor never looked at him, in fear that the tears that sat beneath her eyes would surface. She heard his breath hitch though, and she thought maybe she’d ruined this vulnerable moment between them.
She heard him let out a deep sigh, “I did. We did. It was hard, but it’s in the past and we’ve overcome it.”
“I wonder what it’s like…”
She finally tilted her head up to look at Loid, who looked cautious about what she might say next. She should be careful with her words, but one slip of the tongue always led to many others. He turned his head a little, coaxing her to go on.
“To love someone. Especially in that way. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced, or anything I could experience.”
Loid sputtered for a moment. Of course, she didn’t expect him to have any answers for her. She wondered silently what this arrangement might mean for her in the future, would they only be destined to co-parent Anya until she graduated from Eden?
“W-well, why not?”
“Because I had to raise Yuri, I never had any time for that. And now, with us married for convenience, it would be difficult for us to date around or else Anya may be kicked from Eden. Not that I’m particularly interested, but maybe… You might be. I don’t want to hold you back.”
He said nothing again. It couldn’t have been purposeful, he was thinking and definitely confused. Loid’s late wife was just the catalyst for a conversation she’d been meaning to have with him for a while.
She stared at the photos in hand a little longer, before placing them carefully back in their spots in the album. It was about time for bed anyway, she shouldn’t keep them up any longer. Yor gave him a polite smile, one that said ‘let’s pretend this never happened’, and stood up.
Loid was always one for rationality. The mission over everything, the protection of children in this world over everything. So, he bit his tongue as Yor flipped through the album, he bit his tongue as she told him her woes. But living and raising a kid with someone for a year can change a lot about how you view that person. She spoke so openly about not having experienced romantic love, so he knew then that she didn’t and perhaps would never have feelings for him.
With all this on his mind, he should have just let her go to bed. He was exhausted and she didn’t look any better.
But Loid couldn’t let it go. So, he grabbed her wrist when she stood. Yor whipped her head back toward him, eyebrows scrunched and eyes wide as she asked a silent question. It was all instinct, really. Which is why Loid sputtered for a moment before loosening his grip.
“I-I was just going to say that I hope you do. Experience love like that, I mean,”
The startled expression on her face slowly relaxed into a softer, fonder one. The rapid beating of his heart began to calm as she nodded with finality at him. He could’ve said more or less, but he was never great with words. So instead, he watched her go as she faded into the dark hallway.
They never really talk about that night, or his late wife again. Yor had just wished to understand Loid and Anya more and the images of the woman she saw certainly did so. A deep sadness had burrowed in her chest since she saw those photos. She felt empathy for her family’s loss, while also harboring a deeper, more sinister feeling that she wished to chide herself for.
So, she ignored it despite what those feelings may entail. The guilt that clawed at her when she would remember the photos was overwhelming. Distractions helped, so like any person wishing to get something off their mind, she threw herself headfirst into her work.
She would stay at her City Hall job a little longer and ask the Shopkeeper for extra missions, just to avoid thinking.
Thinking about how she was envious of the woman before her. She wondered how it felt to have someone love you so openly, unabashedly. Yor wanted that for herself. She thought she might want that from Loid, but that was a silly thing to desire.
Loid certainly noticed— He was always very observant, but he didn’t always say anything. He watched her silently from afar, deciding that if it goes on for any longer, he’ll step in.
What he’ll do exactly, he wasn’t sure.
One of the main causes of Yor’s nightmares that she’d forgotten was that they became worse when she didn’t sleep. With the busy work she had bestowed upon herself, it gave her a little less time to sleep than she anticipated. A nightmare consisting of the sort of imagery that might just unsettle her before was now amplified tenfold, with extremely graphic depictions of things that would make her physically ill.
She’d woken up three days in a row with sweat covering her bedsheets and tears falling from her just-opened eyes. By the fourth night, she had given up.
It was unclear what time it was, but staying in her room then was out of the question. She tiptoed carefully to the couch in the living room, hugging her knees to her chest. Normally making tea would help, but she didn’t want to risk waking anyone up. Loid was an incredibly light sleeper and always busy, she wouldn’t forgive herself if she woke him up.
Yor sat silently on the couch, trying to will herself to forget her nightmare. She couldn’t remember everything, but she remembered a lot of screaming. Blood. Crying. There was smoke, it was hot. It was unclear if the blood was hers or not, but she didn’t want to find out. She sniffled quietly, sparse tears falling down her cheeks.
Of course, hiding anything from someone as perceptive as her husband was an impossible feat.
“Yor?” She heard him whisper from the hallway.
Her hands flew to her face, wiping any remnants of tears that may have been there away.
She cleared her throat before speaking, “Oh, I’m sorry, Loid. I hope I didn’t wake you,”
Yor doesn’t look at him— she knows he’ll see right through her. He sighed heavily, flipping the switch of one of the dimmer lamps in the room.
“You didn’t. I came in here because I couldn’t sleep… I was hoping I could come up with something to knock me out,” He paused for a short time, and Yor knew it was coming, “Is everything okay, Yor?”
Her lip trembled and she immediately bit it, delaying her answer. She could hear him getting closer, so she had to say something.
“It’s nothing, I-I had a nightmare. I don’t really want to sleep right now.”
He said nothing for a brief moment. Loid’s eyes were still bleary when he entered the hallway, it wasn’t until he heard light sniffling that he realized Yor’s door was cracked and she wasn’t in her room.
As someone who had been relatively alone for as long as he can remember, comforting people was never his forte no matter how well he depicted Loid Forger as a family man. He only ever knew how to order people around or cater to their needs in a mechanical way. So, he felt a little lame looking at the back of Yor’s head as she (very poorly) pretended that she wasn’t crying.
He approached her similar to how one would approach a wounded animal, creeping toward the back of the couch with slow movements so he wouldn’t scare her away. He leaned on the edge of the headrest and Yor’s head turned toward him as though she’d admitted defeat. Red irises glistened under the lowlight and Loid hoped silently that she was unable to see his reddened ears.
Nightmares seemed to be a common occurrence within the Forger residence. If it weren’t his own nightmares jolting him from his sleep, he could sometimes hear a muffled cry coming from Yor or Anya’s room. Anya would normally wake one of them up if it was too scary for her, but he never helped Yor through hers— It always felt like a step too far, something he would be unable to take back, something that could change them forever.
Despite everything that prevented him from helping Yor, from providing her his support, he asked her if she was okay anyway. She lied, of course. He knew she thought she was a burden for minor things, but he never expected her to do or know everything. She was meant to fulfill a role and she did it phenomenally.
It must be the late night atmosphere, or the dim lighting, or the vulnerability on display from Yor because he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“I could stay up with you… Or you could just sleep with me,” He sputtered afterward, “S-Sleep in the bed with me, I mean. We could make a pillow barrier, or if you don’t want to, that’s okay too.”
He could feel his ears reddening as the silence lingered around them. Immediately, he thought he messed up and made her uncomfortable no matter how pure his intentions may have been.
And they were— Loid would never invite her to his bedroom with ulterior motives. At least, unless it was something they both wanted to do. He shook his head, chiding himself for even thinking that way. The suggestion came from wanting to help her out, and maybe a selfish part of him thought her presence might just help with his inability to sleep as well.
He heard Yor shift on the couch, his eyes meeting hers.
She nodded timidly, “I’ll come s-sleep with you… If you don’t mind, of course,”
He willed his expression to still as soon as she spoke. He wasn’t entirely expecting her to agree to or want to, but if he reacted, she would be spooked.
Loid nodded with a finality, tipping his head in the direction of his bedroom as he sauntered down the hall. With false nonchalance, he sat in the bed and made himself comfortable. He feared that if he drew attention to her during this moment, she would close herself off and swallow the key. He laid on his side, turning slightly to see if Yor came inside his room.
Yor froze when she saw Loid’s eyes find her in the dim lighting. She felt as though she were intruding, like this room was never meant for her. But Loid was welcoming her with open arms, and she figured it’d be a waste not to grasp the hand that was held out for her. The longer she went without a good night’s sleep meant more risk during her assassinations. She was just doing this to save herself, to protect herself.
She approached quietly, as though Loid wasn’t already aware she was making her way there. She thought back to their conversation about his late wife and a rising guilt made its way into her gut.
But this was Loid’s idea, he asked her kindly and she knew it wasn’t easy for him. He couldn’t sleep either and she thought, maybe if she wasn’t having her fair share of nightmares, Loid would have been the one sitting alone in the living room during these late hours.
Eventually, she took a deep breath and got into the bed. The pillow barrier wasn’t a priority, no matter how badly her face burned as she stared at the back of Loid’s neck. The first thing she noticed as her head hit the pillow was that his bed was a bit firmer than hers, but still soft nonetheless.
And that it smelled like him. She felt a little ashamed for enjoying the scent, but it reminded her of home.
Of the home she currently resided in, with Anya, Bond, and Loid. Yor wondered when this became home for her, but as she thought back to the cold, empty apartment she was in before, she realized this was always her home.
She buried her face in the comforter and her eyes began to get heavy. Whether it was the room, the bed, or Loid himself, Yor felt more at ease as she drifted than she had in a long while. She had no idea if Loid had fallen asleep yet, but the last thing she remembered seeing was the steady rise and fall of his chest.
When she awoke the next morning, the bed was empty and the door was closed. Yor sat up abruptly, head snapping toward the nearest clock. It was after nine in the morning and it had been the longest she slept in months. She dragged her hands down her face, eyes scanning the room now that sunlight peeked through the window.
From afar on his dresser, she spotted a photo of the same pink-haired woman he introduced her to weeks ago.
Despite how well-rested she initially felt, that familiar pain dug into her chest again. It was ridiculous, she knew, to feel as though she was desecrating a grave. To feel as though she was disturbing the dead and trying to be the understudy of a play she should’ve never been in. With gallons of blood on her hands, she felt she was never truly meant to fill this role.
The door opened slowly, ultimately halting Yor’s ruminations. She startled a little, grabbing the comforter tightly. Loid looked puzzled; She knew her odd behavior was becoming increasingly obvious.
“I was just coming to check on you… Did you sleep alright?” He asked.
Yor froze briefly, a part of her dying to explain the feelings that plagued her lately. But how was she to explain that her own insecurities were exasperating her already intense feelings of inadequacy? She bit her lip hard enough to cause a little pain before answering Loid’s question with a nod.
Before Loid could further ask about Yor, she was already up and making his bed. She zipped past him as he listened to her mutter something about getting Anya ready for school; He didn’t quite have the heart then to inform her that she had already left for the day. He could tell she was avoiding something, though he was unsure if it had something to do with him.
He stood at the doorway and his eyes landed on the photo of the fake wife he created atop his dresser. He thought back to the photo album he’d shown her a few weeks ago, sighing when he realized he probably caused the disturbance that Yor was feeling. He ran a hand over his stubbled face briefly and followed Yor to the living room.
“Where’s Anya?” She squeaked out.
“I didn’t quite get a chance to tell you, but I already sent her off,”
As he completed the sentence, Loid was absolutely sure something was going on with Yor. Her face reddened in a split second and she huffed loudly. He felt a deep fear settle in his gut— Though he was unsure if it was because he’d upset her or because he was slightly afraid of her.
“You could’ve woken me up at least so I could say bye to her,” Yor said, venom making its way into her words.
“I-I figured you’d want to sleep in… I know you hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a few days, I just wanted to make sure you slept as long as possible.”
Yor could already feel the panic crawling up her chest, to her throat, and out her mouth. She knew she was being irrational and it was only a matter of time before Loid figured out something was wrong (if he didn’t think so before). Immediately after she asked where Anya was, her mind supplied the helpful information that school started at nine— Of course she wouldn’t be here.
Her emotions were jumbled up— A messy, tangled pile of anger, jealousy, and sadness. She was angry because Loid was so clueless. Jealous because she could never fill the shoes of a woman who practically walked on water. Sad because she didn’t want Anya to think she didn’t care enough to see her off.
And as she stared ahead at Loid with fire in her eyes and blood heating her entire body, she realized that all these emotions most likely stemmed from the fact that she loved Loid. Really loved him. She was scared to say it out loud or to herself— saying so would make it real.
She calmed down almost as soon as she exploded, slowing to a simmer within seconds. She sputtered a little, becoming incredibly aware of her response as well as her true feelings. Red spread across her cheeks like an ink wash and she took a few calmer steps toward him.
“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me… I think the nightmares are having a bigger effect than I thought,” Yor said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Loid looked at her with an unknown emotion— perhaps pity or disappointment, she couldn’t tell and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.
But he came a little closer, slowly but surely. Grabbing her hand, he squeezed it for a moment. She felt his eyes scanning her face, as though he was thinking carefully about what he should say. She felt guilty that Loid had to cater to her. She was as fragile as everyone around her thought she was— a small scratch and she would shatter.
He started pulling her toward the couch, and she couldn’t find it in her to fight her way out of his grip. They each sat down and Loid looked at her with inviting eyes filled with concern.
“Yor, what’s going on?”
The rush of anxiety filling her body made her blood rush and her heart race. She really didn’t want to cry, but sometimes the release of emotion was more relieving than anything she could have said.
“It’s silly really…” She muttered, “But I can’t stop thinking about your late wife… And I can’t tell exactly how I feel. I think most of all I feel guilty because I’m in her house, taking care of her daughter and her husband. She’s missing out on all this and I’m reaping the benefits because I happened to be at the tailor shop at the same time as you.”
Yor’s eyes made their way to Loid’s face and his expression was unreadable. She wouldn’t blame him if he laughed at her, if he reprimanded her for even thinking that way, if he got upset because showing her the album was a moment of vulnerability she should have respected.
But he lifted his head, hand still resting over hers. “I understand. And I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to live up to her legacy in any way. You both are very different people, but still important in my and Anya’s life for the time each of you are here.”
Bile rose in Loid’s throat as the words left his mouth. He didn’t think it would be this difficult to lie to Yor, but as she looked at him with a slight blush covering her cheeks, he thought she might hold all the stars in the galaxy.
There weren’t a lot of things Loid himself could experience. With the war overshadowing his childhood and inevitably becoming a spy, his life was confined to being dutiful and obedient. However, here with Yor, it never felt like a mission. It felt as though she was truly saying what was on her mind and it made him want to spill his guts as well.
He wouldn’t— This mission was too dire.
But he was beginning to admit to himself that the loneliness he endured all those years ago never left him. He wasn’t a person, but a weapon. Never did he create any meaningful relationships besides Frankie, and despite how many times he told himself this arrangement with Yor was temporary, deep down he wished it weren’t. Every interaction with Yor felt genuine, but the familiar feeling of guilt lurked deep inside each time she confided in him.
He was selfish, though.
Loid’s words settled in her bones and spread throughout her body like a coolant. She felt relieved to know that most of the guilt and anxiety was merely in her head.
“Besides,” Loid continued, “My previous wife didn’t live here with us, Anya and I moved here only a few months before we met you. You aren’t desecrating any graves, this is your home as much as it is ours, Yor.”
She could only prevent the tears from falling from her eyes for so long. Tears slipped down her face as he said the final sentence because she believed it; This was her home and her family. And she would hold it near and dear to herself for as long as she was able.
“Thank you, Loid. Really. I feel so grateful to have married you of all the people in Ostania,”
Yor giggled as blush crept on Loid’s face and ears. To say she felt closer to Loid was an understatement, his openness to communicate (despite how difficult she may make it) was admirable and she wished to do the same for him. She wanted to listen to all his worries and his excitement, she wanted to share everything with him.
But she never planned on telling him that she loved him. That was a secret to keep for herself.
Yor went back to her bed the next night. Despite being more at ease and significantly less stressed, she found herself staring at the ceiling. The realization of her feelings for Loid were hard to swallow, but she wondered what she was expecting after playing house with him for a year. Most people in her situation would probably develop these sorts of feelings, but it didn’t help that Loid was the epitome of kindness and understanding.
She knew she was rather odd. Having grown up without interacting with people her age, she missed out on vital social skills that others had. She wasn’t always entirely sure what was appropriate to discuss or how friends (or more) were supposed to behave. But Loid was always so patient with her, guiding her every step of the way.
The familiar creak of Loid’s door sounded faintly from the hallway. She wasn’t exactly sure what time it was, but she knew it was the middle of the night. Loid had come home later that night and they each awkwardly went to their respective rooms after she waited up for him.
She didn’t expect him to invite her to his bed again— She always waited up for him when he worked late, unless he told her not to.
He so kindly lent a helping hand to her when she was struggling to sleep, it was only fair that she did the same.
Yor creeped slowly from her room, down the hallway and as soon as she stepped foot in the living room, Loid’s head whipped in her direction.
“I heard your door open… I was awake too and thought I’d check on you. You can’t sleep either?” She whispered.
Loid smirked, laughing a little and she could only assume it was due to the irony of the situation.
He shook his head to answer, “I’ve been trying to sleep since I got home… I almost resorted to warm milk, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
The room was hardly lit, only the moonlight through the windows shining through the room. She made her way to him, standing across from him as he sat on the couch. They both knew how to combat this and Yor didn’t know how to bring it up without seeming overly eager. She fidgeted with her hands and a loose thread on her nightgown.
Her face began to heat up, as she worked up the nerve to ask him. She could tell he was looking at her, but she couldn't make eye contact back. His disheveled hair and white t-shirt, as well as his gray sweatpants, were something she only saw occasionally. Loid was usually the type to get dressed as soon as he woke up, but she wished she could see this side of him more.
So, she finally spoke, “I hope it isn’t presumptuous to think that you also benefited from me sleeping in the bed with you… W-we could do that again if you think it would help,”
She can hardly see his expression, but she can feel her entire body burning with embarrassment.
He doesn’t say anything at first. It seemed as though he was weighing the pros and cons in his head and she prayed he wouldn’t mull it over for long. She had a long day ahead of her tomorrow and without a good night’s rest, it would be doable but difficult.
He rose silently, walking toward her with a neutral expression on his face. His fingers slid down her arm and grasped her wrist as he guided her to his room.
Yor hoped he wasn’t embarrassed or ashamed about needing someone in the bed with him to sleep well. She understood how much someone’s presence could help. Her mind thought back to the barren apartment she lived in over a year ago.
He shut the door behind them and Yor timidly got into the bed like before.
As Loid got into bed beside her, the silence continued to stretch. This wasn’t the normal silence she came to love in the Forger household— It felt heavy and incomplete, as though it were solid and she could touch it if she wanted.
She stared at the ceiling once more and in her peripheral vision, she could see he was doing the same. She supposed they didn’t need to talk to sleep in the same bed together, but it would be a lie to say she didn’t feel a little disappointed. She readjusted her position, turning to face away from Loid.
Loid was aware that he was being... different than usual. Not by sleeping in the same bed with her, but by refusing to speak any words to her as she laid inches away from him.
He was afraid to speak because he couldn’t be sure that what he was going to say wasn’t going to jeopardize everything he worked towards. He stared at the ceiling alongside Yor and when she began to reposition herself, he felt himself panic.
“I suppose everyone in the East and the West have problems sleeping… It comes with the territory…”
Yor said nothing and he knew he blew it, ready to admit defeat and just close his eyes. But then he heard a hum come from her as she agreed.
“At my previous place, I had issues with sleeping. I gave up eventually and went a few days without sleeping… I wouldn’t recommend it, it wasn’t fun.”
He laughed a little, “I’ve also gone a few days without sleep before. It always seems like the right choice at the time until it all comes crashing down when you can’t tell your coworker from your boss and make a rather embarrassing mistake.”
He heard Yor giggle into the blanket, turning to lay on her back once again. He dared to take a glance at her in the dark room. Her hair splayed against the pillow, his pillow and the moonlight from the window illuminating her face a bit. Loid watched as the smile dropped from her face, as turned her head to look at him.
“You didn’t have to put her picture away because of me, Loid,” She whispered.
And he cursed himself for even moving the picture, or assuming Yor wouldn’t come to sleep with him again. Whichever made sense or whichever put him in this egregious position. He could sense the disappointment coming off of her in waves, and all he wanted to do was make it better, but he didn’t know how.
Yor felt Loid stiffen up as soon as she said it, but she thought it was her own fault anyway. If she hadn’t acted so irrationally about a woman she never met, a woman Anya barely remembered, he would feel less guilty. He wouldn’t have to cater to her fragile ego and treat her like a vase that has one too many cracks.
“I didn’t— Hide it, I mean. I think it fell while I was rummaging through my drawer,” He said. She knew he was lying, but it was late and she didn’t want to keep them up any later than they already were. Her intention was to help each other sleep, not start an argument. So, she hummed and turned away from him.
Loid was befuddled to say the least, maybe even a little distraught. He’s dealt with a fair amount of women and none had his stomach churning the way Yor did. He wanted her to feel better, more confident in her abilities and especially to stop comparing herself to a woman that never existed. He ran a hand down his face before inevitably drifting off to sleep.
The next morning, Loid woke Yor up in time to see Anya off. She seemed well rested and cheerful as she placed Anya’s hat on and grabbed her hand as they went out the door. Loid trailed behind them as Anya skipped and swung Yor’s hand. He found himself smiling, despite the fact that Yor hadn’t said more than a few words to him.
He would address it after Anya got on the bus, but he could tell Anya already suspected something was up. She told them sternly before the bus doors closed to get along and they both adamantly stated they weren’t fighting. Which was true, for the most part.
It was an off day for both of them, which gave them time to talk if Yor was up for it. Loid was feeling incredibly guilty and at this point, he would apologize for almost anything. He cautiously took off his coat and hat at the door, eyes gazing at Yor from behind.
“Y-Yor,” His voice cracked. Not his finest moment, “Are you angry with me?”
She whipped around almost immediately, her eyes open and inviting. The question hit her like a knife in the chest—- something she has personal experience with. The cold sting and the burning sensation that radiates throughout the surrounding area.
“No… I’m not angry with you, really. Mostly myself and my behavior… It’s ridiculous and uncalled for, I feel a little silly for showing this side of myself to you,”
He said nothing for a moment, walking a little closer to her.
“Well, it’s inevitable that we would see each other not at our best, especially because we live together. But is there anything I can do to make you feel better or more comfortable?”
She really had nothing to tell him. Nothing could truly help her or save her from her feelings for him, and she knew that’s why she was acting so strange. So unlike the nice and kind Yor he’d come to know. The Yor on the surface now wasn’t as refined as the one he knew a year ago.
Yet her mind unhelpfully supplied that she would feel better if he loved her. If he told her he loved her, all her worries and doubts would cease to exist. She couldn’t say that to him— It would destroy everything they built, a marriage of convenience. But were they doomed to be in this partnership forever? Yor wanted to be loved, to have someone and be with that someone until the end of time.
She shook her head, “You’re already doing a great job. Thank you, though,”
The details to how Yor ended up in his bed later that night become a little fuzzy if he thought too hard about it. It started out the same way it always did, one of them couldn’t sleep, the other offered for them to sleep together no matter how awkward things were between them.
Yor turned away from him almost instantly though, and he felt a little disappointed. Even if the point was just to sleep, he wanted to hear her voice, hear her speak about her day. He loved watching her hair splay across the pillows like ink and he wanted to look at her face. He wanted her ruby red eyes to look at him, to blink at him. It gave him a sense of calm to see her face before they slept.
He felt himself itching to trace a finger down the back of neck, following her spine until the end. His thoughts were just Yor, Yor, Yor and he felt almost pathetic for only just realizing he’s been in love with his wife for a while. Each lingering glance he gave her and every electrifying touch they shared was because he loved her deeply.
His face burned as he sighed and threw the blanket over his face.
The next few days operate as normal, but Loid felt uneasy. Being in love with his wife and being aware of it was making his life a little more difficult. He was the world’s greatest spy and he could hardly hand a spoon to Yor without blushing. He was thirty-one and acting like a schoolgirl. He tried his best to empty his mind and pretend it wasn’t a big deal, but it was.
His best option would be to admit to WISE that he was compromised. To remove him from the mission and find another way of ensuring contact with Donovan Desmond, but every time he even thought about doing it Anya would ask for help with her homework and he would forget he was even thinking about it in the first place.
His eyes made their way to Yor several times a minute, scanning her face as she handed Anya a sharp pencil with a smile on her face. The only form of love he had ever experienced were the fleeting moments he remembered from his mother as a child. It wasn't much and the memories faded with each passing day. His relationships during missions were never really him, just a facade where he operated more like a robot and less like a human with emotions and feelings. He had no idea how to go about this.
Loid woke up suddenly in the middle of the night. His mouth was dry and his usual glass of water was empty, so he reluctantly got up and shuffled to the kitchen.
He heard Yor sniffling as soon as he opened his door. He walked quietly into the kitchen, placing the glass down and approaching Yor with purpose. He was much more cautious the first time, but now he felt experienced and more confident. Like he could make her feel better and redeem himself at the same time.
The wood flooring creaked beneath his feet and he watched Yor freeze. He watched as her hands patted her face and she haphazardly wiped her tears. Deja vu washed over him in waves— it was very reminiscent of the first time he asked her to come to bed with him.
He sat next to her, bringing her hands away from her face. His fingers traced her wrist and went down her arms, before reaching her back.
“What’s going on?” He asked, even though he wasn’t expecting a truthful answer.
She hadn’t cried much, only a few tears falling and light sniffles accompanying them.
“Nightmare again. I haven’t been sleeping as easily as before,” She stated.
His eyes met hers, searching her face for more information. Her expression was unreadable, but he didn’t ask this time. He simply grabbed a hold of her wrist with one hand and put a hand on her back with the other, leading her to his room. She didn't question what he was doing, getting up as soon as he did. It was foolish for either of them to play dumb.
She got in his bed more comfortably this time, hopping in before he even had a chance to turn off the light. She faced his side of the bed this time and as he laid down, his eyes met hers in the lowlight once again. Yor looked at him with a gaze that was warm and inviting, and he smiled at her as genuinely as he could, as genuinely as he felt for her.
He felt her hand run up his arm and stop, resting on his face. She ran her fingers through his hair and it took everything in him not to act on his feelings. Not to kiss her right then and there. She whispered a good night to him, before turning over and going to sleep.
Loid had to will himself to calm down before drifting off to sleep himself.
Yor tried her best to ignore her feelings for Loid. It was a practical arrangement, nothing more and nothing less. But the longer she denied herself those feelings, the more irritated she became. Nightmares, lack of sleep, suppressing her very real and intense feelings— It was weighing on her more than before. She wouldn’t tell Loid, she couldn’t. She couldn’t live with herself if she replaced the woman before her, erasing her presence and gluing a cutout of herself over top.
So, she operated as normal. And even when her nightmares were too hard to bear alone, she refused to leave her room in fear that Loid would ask her to come to bed and she knew she wouldn’t refuse.
The longer Loid waited to hear that familiar sound of Yor walking down the hallway, the more worried he got. He had become sensitive to hearing Yor’s footsteps in the dead of night now, even hearing the creak of her door was enough to wake him. But the pitter-patter of her feet hadn’t been heard and he wondered if she started sleeping better, if she didn’t need him anymore.
Until he saw her.
She looked like she hadn’t been sleeping at all. The pink that usually colored her cheeks had faded and her eyes were darker than usual. She’d forgotten to feed Bond a few times that week and while it was an easy mistake to make, it wasn’t one that Yor normally made. When they’d wash dishes together, he noticed that she was spacey and not as sharp as usual. Handing the dishes to her became more of a hazard than it should have been, even if she was clumsy, it was never this bad.
Later that night, Loid decided to take matters into his own hands. Against his better judgment, he ended up in front of Yor’s door. While he respected her privacy, he felt like he had to try.
He placed a few soft knocks on her door, careful not to disturb Anya in the room next door. He heard her tell him to come in, so he shyly took a few steps in before cracking the door behind him.
As he lifted his head to speak to Yor, he felt his throat dry up. Yor sat in her bed, mostly covered by the blanket as she placed her book onto the bed after marking her place. Her eyes shined in the dim desk light that lit up her room. Strangely, he felt more taken aback from her beauty than usual. He cleared his head of this thought almost as soon as it appeared— This visit to Yor’s room was to check on her wellbeing, not to indulge.
He watched as she extended her hand and folded her legs, giving him space to sit on her bed. She eyed him carefully and he could tell she was a little startled. Loid had never really been in her room for more than a few minutes and without the added context of Yor’s late night tears, this visit seemed entirely unprompted.
He doesn’t say anything for a little longer than normal, trying to form exactly what it is he wished to say,
“You’re not sleeping,” Loid finally spoke.
He could feel her entire body tense almost immediately, as though she had been caught red-handed.
“I’ve tried to let it pass and let you deal with it on your own, but I don’t think it’s working. Please let me help you, Yor. Are you worried about burdening me?”
His voice was incredibly gentle as he spoke to her, her heart betrayed her by beating a little faster. He practically cornered her and she wasn’t sure exactly what to say. She paused for what felt like an eternity. Her nerves of steel in the field supplied no help as her husband confronted her.
“No, I-I just think this is something I should solve on my own without you,”
Her eyes flickered up to his face and if she looked closely, Yor could see the small twinge of hurt that tinted his features. She knew she was pushing him away for reasons he would never know or understand, but she felt that it was necessary for them both.
Though, she never predicted that he would reach his hand out and touch hers. That his touch would travel from the back of her hand to her arm before settling on her shoulder, daring to caress her neck. A small sigh escaped her lips and she turned her head away from him, eyes scrunched shut as he caressed her like a wounded bird. His other hand grasped her wrist, holding it as though he was going to pull her out of bed.
“I don’t understand,” He said quietly, “Help me understand. Just come to bed with me,”
His last statement pulled her out of her reverie, as though she had just become aware of a siren’s song. She yanked her hand away from Loid, much to his surprise, and stood up from her bed.
“No, Loid. Stop, we can’t– We can’t keep doing this,”
Yor didn’t look at Loid as she spoke, praying that the words would come out easier if she didn’t. He stood immediately after her, putting enough distance between them. It stung a little, but she knew it was her own doing.
Loid was panicking inside. He thought maybe he’d misread her intentions in the bed that one night, that she wasn’t trying to tell him that she felt the same way as he did. She wouldn’t turn her face toward him and all he really wanted to do then was look her in the eyes. He suddenly felt as though she was out of reach and that if he didn't say something, anything soon, he might lose her for good. No matter the outcome, she needed to know how he really felt.
Her heart pounded against her chest when she finally decided to speak.
“Every time you ask me to your bed, I can’t say no. But I should, I should say no. I-It’s confusing for Anya—It’s confusing for me! I don’t understand what it really means and I don’t think you do either.” She willed herself not to raise her voice, but her entire body felt like a powder keg.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Not even he believed that.
“Yes, you do. Every time I sleep next to you, I want to get a little closer than the time before. This is my first real home in a long, long time. I don’t want to ruin it,”
“And how would you ruin it, Yor?”
Her face burned red as she whipped around to finally face him. She should have stood her ground, told him to get out and packed her bags by the morning. But it was getting increasingly difficult to do so when all of her desires were in front of her and practically begging her to indulge.
He stepped closer first, followed by Yor next. She grabbed Loid’s wrist, pulling him closer and she placed his hand on her cheek. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation that was making her act so boldly, or perhaps she was sick of denying herself things she knew she deserved.
Somehow, they ended up less than an inch from each other. Their bodies almost pressed against each other and their breaths mixed as their eyes flickered back and forth, waiting for the other to make the first move. Her hands crept up his chest, then on his neck and settled under his jaw.
“Maybe… Like this,”
Her lips crashed into his and she felt both mortified and electrified. The first kiss was reserved and clumsy, like she wished to pull back as soon as she rushed forward. Though, whatever confidence she lacked was met with Loid’s fervor as she felt his arm wrap around her waist and grip her tight like a vice. His other hand slid up her neck and nestled into her hair.
Loid was never good with words, Yor knew, but the longer he touched her, the more she could feel the physical manifestation of everything he wouldn’t say. She wasn’t sure if she was keeping up with him at all, his kisses deepened considerably and she felt her breath being taken away with each press of their lips.
She pulled away for a moment to catch her breath, and Loid wasn’t deterred in the slightest. His lips moved from hers, trailing down the column of her neck and barely giving her any time to recover. His hands grasped her hips tight and pressed her closer against him. If she didn’t know any better, it seemed like he wanted to crawl inside her. She inevitably placed a hand on his chest, willing him to stop for a moment. His eyes were hooded and his pupils blown wide like he’d gotten a taste of a drug he couldn’t get enough of. Her eyes scanned his face with a blank expression, like she was unsure what to do next.
“I don’t understand…” Yor whispered.
Yor’s voice seemed to quell the demon that possessed his body for the moment. Her initiation of their kiss awoke something unknown in Loid, something he’d never truly felt before. If he was truly an agent of WISE, he would have rejected her outright and never let her lips touch his. But he realized now that he’s only human. He loosened his grip on her a bit, hugging her like a blanket now instead of tight and wanting like before.
He realized the longer he continued to act on his feelings without explaining, he could potentially hurt Yor and he really didn’t want to.
“There are a lot of things I can’t explain to you right now,” His voice shook, “It’s not fair of me to ask you to trust me, but I would never do anything to hurt you intentionally. I want you, Yor. I’m in love with you,”
All she can really hear is the sound of blood rushing throughout her body. She froze, unsure of what to say. Her feelings for Loid caused her so much turmoil and to find out he felt the same way was something she never truly predicted. He wanted her and she could really feel it. The pressure in her chest lightened and she felt her body release all the tension that was wound up in her.
The only thing she can bring herself to do now is to kiss him again. And she does. She reached an arm around his neck, straining on her tippy toes as she tried to match his height. Her other hand went around his waist, reaching under his shirt and lightly scraping her nails down his back.
She wasn’t entirely sure how they ended up in her bed, but she remembered the back of her knees hitting the edge and them both unceremoniously falling over. Somewhere along the way, Loid’s shirt ended up hanging from her bookcase. Kisses were stolen over and over again, accompanied by giggling and wandering hands.
They stopped themselves before they got too carried away— what with Anya in the next room and all. The rate at which nightmares awoke everyone in the house didn’t make it very safe to go any farther, but Yor was fine with that. They ended up tangled in her bed; Yor's head pressed into the crook of Loid's neck and their legs intertwined underneath the comforter. She wasn't sure who fell asleep first, but she remembered hearing a slight snore coming from Loid when her eyes became heavy.
When Yor awoke the next morning, the just-risen sun peeked through her curtains and all the memories of last night came flooding in. She whipped her head to the side, eyeing a still sleeping Loid who had her pinned by the waist. She placed a hand on his forehead and moved the front of his hair to the side, hoping to gently wake him. His eyes fluttered open and his arm around her tightened.
She jostled him a few more times for good measure to make sure he was really awake because she had something to say. When his eyes didn’t drift shut after the third jostling, she finally spoke.
“I’m really sorry about how I’ve been acting, Loid. I was having a lot of feelings that I didn’t quite understand… or didn’t want to understand, and I took it out on you a few times. Hopefully I can get back to my old self now that we’ve kind of talked about it,” Yor said, sleep coating her voice.
Loid hummed, still somewhat fogged by sleep but ensuring Yor that he acknowledged what she said. There was still so much she didn’t know about him, and his brain helpfully supplied that his false, dead wife essentially kickstarted all of this. It would take too much energy and destroy their peaceful morning bubble if he told her. So, he doesn’t— for now.
“It’s okay, seriously. I don’t expect you to be perfect all the time. I’m definitely not,” He chuckled, “There are things I’d love to share with you when the time is right. I’m not really who you think I am…”
He didn’t look at her, but he expected some sort of apprehensive response. Something to talk him out of spilling his years and years secrets to Yor to ensure he remained the logical, uncompromised spy he’d always been. Though his eyes met hers and a warm smile was painted on her lips.
“Neither am I,”
Yor nearly leaned in for a kiss when they both heard the creak of Anya’s door. Loid jumped out of bed, grabbing his shirt and Yor quickly made the bed up as best as she could. Most days if Loid wasn’t up yet, Anya would knock on his door to see if he was in there. He clearly wasn’t, so they just had to hope that she wasn’t entirely awake yet.
They heard her turn the doorknob and the slight pitter-patter of Bond behind her as she walked into Loid’s room. She called for him in a faint, whiny tone, much like she did when she was really sleepy. Normally, he wouldn’t want her in his room for her safety, but this was the perfect distraction for him to sneak out of Yor’s room.
Loid hovered over the doorknob, before turning back to Yor.
“We’ll tell her soon, just—”
“Not right now,” Yor finished.
Loid successfully slipped out of Yor’s room, tiptoeing into the kitchen before finally calling for Anya. Yor listened from inside her room as Anya (followed by Bond) ran down the hallway and asked about breakfast.
She stopped at her vanity, eyes gazing at her reflection as she brushed her hair a few times. She had already looked better; her skin was gaining color again and the prominent bags under her eyes were starting to disappear. Whether it was the confession or the actual act of sleeping that gave her life again, she wasn’t sure.
The weight of her woes had lightened considerably and knowing that Loid felt the same way as she did made her feel light on her feet. It’d been hard for her to act as she always did with Loid, Anya would surely find out sooner rather than later even if they didn’t tell her.
She wondered what he would think about her life as an assassin. But he told her that he wasn’t perfect either. The jealousy she once felt for the woman in the photo album was replaced with a sense of understanding and sorrow. She realized that everything she did was because she wanted Loid to love her the way she loved him.
As she stepped into the living room, Loid’s eyes met hers across the room and she felt love bloom throughout her chest and stream through her body. To experience a family like this, no matter how nontraditional, was her greatest joy.
Yor greeted Anya by placing a hand in her hair, smoothing down her head gently. She gave Bond a few scratches behind his ear and stood next to Loid in the kitchen.
“Good morning, Loid,” She tried her best to hide the silly grin threatening to break their facade.
“Good morning, Yor. Did you sleep well?”
She nodded, “I think it was the best I’ve slept in months,”
When Yor thought of her life in the future, it was always fuzzy or incomplete. All she would ever see was herself inside that stagnant apartment that she lived in for so long, coated in silence and lacking in love. As Loid distributed his makeshift breakfast on their plates, she felt that now she could imagine a future with love and understanding. The silence that suffocated her for so long had been replaced by soft giggles, excitable chatter and love before she even realized.