Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“ Loid , do you have a minute?”

Loid looked up from his newspaper. “Yes, Yor?”

It was a quiet Friday evening. After a long, draining week, the Forger family were enjoying a rare moment of peace in the living room. Loid appeared calm and collected, immersed in the headlines , but Twilight , the spy within, was processing updates for his latest mission.

Across the room, Anya and Bond were curled up in front of the TV, completely absorbed in the newest episode of Spy Wars .

“I’ve been called in for work,” Yor said, clasping her hands in front of her. “The city hall is planning a wildlife conservation act, so a few of us are going to the forest for a two-day survey. I’ll be back by Sunday evening.”

I can’t tell Loid I’m actually hunting poachers… That would be… problematic , Yor thought anxiously.

“I see,” Loid replied, setting the paper down. “Make sure to take a first-aid kit, just in case. But I know you’ll be fine—you’re strong and capable. Just stay safe.”

"I need her to stay unharmed. For Anya’s stability and my mission, of course," thought Loid .

Yor flushed slightly but forced a smile. “Thank you, Loid . I’ll be leaving early tomorrow morning.”

“Whoa! Mama is going on an assassin mission! Waku waku!”

Anya’s eyes twinkled with excitement, having picked up her mother’s real thoughts.

Yor knelt beside Anya and hugged her tightly. “Anya, please be a good girl, alright? I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Oui!”

Sunday – 8:45 PM

The front door creaked open.

“Mama!!” Anya zoomed to the entrance with a cheerful shriek.

Yor had barely set down her bag and coat before Anya wrapped herself around her leg. Smiling through her fatigue, Yor crouched down and scooped her daughter into a warm embrace, peppering her with gentle kisses.

“Welcome home, Yor,” Loid said, stepping forward to take her coat. “How was the trip? Did you eat? I can warm something up for you if you’re hungry.”

Yor smiled, tired, but grateful. “I’d appreciate that, Loid . Let me just freshen up quickly.”

“Oh, and—”

Before he could finish, Yor stepped closer. With trembling hands, she gently cupped his face, stood on her tiptoes, and pressed the lightest kiss to his cheek.

It lasted no more than a second and a half.

And then—she bolted to her room, face ablaze, and slammed the door shut behind her.

Loid stood completely frozen.

“…Huh?”

His mind kicked into overdrive, processing the moment like a mission gone wrong. What was the intent? Could this signal romantic interest? Or did something happen on her trip?

He touched the spot on his cheek where her lips had landed. It tingled faintly. The warmth lingered long after she’d gone.

From across the room, Anya peeked over the couch, lips curled into a smug little grin.

Loid cleared his throat, snapping out of his trance. “Anya, it’s bedtime. You have school tomorrow.”

“Can I watch for just a few more minutes? Pweaaaase ?”

“No. You’ve already stayed up later than usual. Those big eyes won’t work this time, young lady.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Let’s go.”

After tucking Anya into bed, Loid approached Yor’s room and knocked gently.

“Yor? Are you alright? I warmed up dinner for you.”

“I-I’ll be out in a m-minute , L-Loid,” came the muffled reply.

Why is my chest fluttering? Exhaustion… definitely exhaustion. That’s all it is.

The door finally creaked open.

She stood there, eyes wide, face-to-chest with him. Her cheeks were practically glowing crimson, a perfect match for her sweater. Loid coughed and stepped aside, gesturing toward the dining table.

Dinner was quiet. Painfully quiet.

Yor fidgeted with her spoon, eyes darting anywhere but toward him. The blush on her face refused to fade. Loid kept clearing his throat, unsure what to say or how to say it.

Finally, they both spoke at once.

“ Loid , I—”

“Yor, I—”

“You first,” he said gently.

Yor hesitated. Her knuckles whitened around her spoon.

“I… I’m sorry for earlier. It was completely inappropriate,” she said, voice trembling.

She looked down, shoulders tense.

“My coworkers were gossiping about how wives greet their husbands with a kiss when they come home. They said it’s normal. S-So I thought… maybe I could be a more normal wife to you .”

Tears pricked her eyes.

“But I didn’t ask. I just did it. And I know our relationship isn’t like that. I crossed a boundary. If you want to end this arrangement or… d-divorce me , I understand . I’ll pack my things. I ruined it, didn’t I?”

Tears spilled over, and she covered her face in shame.

Stupid, stupid! What if he hates me now? What if I reminded him of his first wife? What if—

Loid moved before he could stop himself.

He gently took her wrists and lowered her hands, revealing her tear-streaked face.

“Hey. Look at me.”

His voice was calm and soft, gentler than she had ever heard it . His cerulean eyes met hers, full of something she couldn’t name.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Yor. Not one thing.”

He reached up and brushed away a tear with his thumb.

“You were trying to do something kind. And normal. And sweet. You’re already perfect as you are. Please… don’t feel like you need to be anything else.”

Yor blinked rapidly, lips quivering. She shyly leaned into his touch, heart hammering in her chest. His hand was warm and steady, but he was blushing, too. His ears were a light pink.

Loid dropped his hand abruptly, suddenly aware of the closeness. The warmth faded instantly, and he found himself missing it.

“A-And… about the kiss,” he added quietly. “I didn’t mind it. Not at all.”

Yor stared, stunned.

“It caught me off guard, yes— but it wasn’t… unwelcome.”

It’s good for the cover and strengthens our image. He told himself.

Yor could only stare at him, lips slightly parted, mind blank from the overload of emotion and embarrassment.

Loid coughed again and looked at the clock. “It’s getting late. We should both get some rest.”

Yor nodded slowly, eyes still locked on him. “R-right. Of course.”

Oh god! This woman never failed to surprise him.

Chapter Text

The following week passed without incident, well, not one involving spy missions or assassin work, at least. But something still lingered in the air. Something soft and fragile. A little too noticeable.
It was the kiss on the cheek.
Yor and Loid hadn’t brought it up again, at least not directly. But something had shifted.
Loid found himself glancing at Yor more often when she was in the kitchen. Not in suspicion, but just out of curiosity. Admiration, maybe. An emotion he didn’t dare label. Yor, meanwhile, was still plagued by the memory of that impulsive kiss, half-embarrassed, half-longing.

That Saturday, the weather was surprisingly warm and gentle, unlike the usual harsh chill of Berlint. Flowers had started to bud early in the city parks, and Anya had all but begged for a family outing.
“Pwease, let’s go out!! A picnic! Like in the cartoons!”
Loid had hesitated; he had paperwork to finish and missions to prepare. But Yor had smiled, just a little too brightly, and said, “It might be good to spend some time as a family.”
He had agreed before he could think of a reason not to.
They found a quiet spot beneath a broad cherry tree in full bloom, away from the bustling trails. Bond rolled happily in the grass while Anya darted through wildflower patches, arms spread like aeroplane wings.
Loid had packed a modest basket of simple sandwiches, fruits, and bottled juice. Yor had added a small thermos of herbal tea.
As they settled on the blanket, the sunlight filtered gently through the tree’s pink canopy. A gentle breeze rustled Yor's hair, and Loid found himself staring again. She seemed like an illusion of a forgotten dream. The atmosphere between them was peaceful and delicate. They talked casually about Anya’s schoolwork, the new gardening initiative at city hall, the renovations at the hospital, and a strange cartoon Anya had seen that made no sense. The conversation was light, but every shared laugh echoed with something tender.
Something dangerous in its sweetness.
As the sun dipped lower, they began to pack up slowly. Yor leaned down to collect the empty boxes, reaching for the small cloth that had covered the food.
Loid reached for it at the same time.
Their hands brushed.
Yor’s breath caught. “S-sorry!” she squeaked, snatching her hand back like she’d touched something burning.
But Loid didn’t move.
Instead, he reached forward and gently took her hand in his.
Yor froze.
Her heart stilled. Her mind emptied. Her fingers trembled slightly inside his gloved grasp.
Without a word, Loid turned her palm slightly upward. His movements were slow and delicate, as if he were handling something precious. Then, in one smooth motion, he brought his lips to the back of her hand.
A kiss. Soft, light, and sincere.
Time stilled with it.

When he pulled back, there was a flicker of pink blooming across his ears, and he cleared his throat faintly.
“I just wanted to thank you,” he said, his voice lower, quieter beneath the rustling trees. “For today. For everything. It was… nice.”Yor’s eyes were wide. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Y-you’re welcome…”
She felt the warmth of his lips still lingering against her skin, like a phantom imprint. Her hand remained lifted even as he let go, fingertips curling slightly, uncertain whether to hide it or hold onto the moment.
Neither of them noticed Anya peeking from behind the tree trunk nearby, wide-eyed. She didn’t say anything. Not yet. She grinned.
As they walked home, Anya skipped ahead with Bond bounding behind her, and Loid and Yor stayed side by side.
Yor occasionally stole glances at her hand and smiled softly to herself, her cheeks still warm.
Loid kept his hands in his coat pockets, his mind racing far faster than he liked. He told himself it was for the mission. A gesture to maintain appearances. A convincing display and nothing more.
But he couldn’t shake the feel of her skin beneath his lips.
Neither of them spoke of it again.
But both of them thought about it. A lot.

Chapter Text

Yor adjusted the grocery bag on her arm and turned a corner of the bustling market, hoping to make it home before Anya noticed the delay.

That’s when she saw him.

Near a vendor selling fresh vegetables was Hemlock, standing lean, sharp-eyed, arms crossed, his silver hair down, and wearing a smirk that never meant anything good.

Yor froze.

He stepped forward casually, hands in his long black coat pockets, voice low. “Running errands now, are we? Never thought I’d find you among cabbage and carrots.”

“Hemlock…” she said cautiously, her voice barely above a whisper. “This isn’t a good place. What are you doing here?”

He looked around theatrically. “What? Can’t two acquaintances catch up? I was in the area. Thought I’d see how domestic bliss was treating you.”

Yor’s smile twitched. “I’m just here for groceries. That’s all.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And is that what life is now? Vegetables and small talk? Seems you’ve gone soft.”

Yor clenched the grocery bag tighter. “That’s not true. I’m just living differently. It doesn’t mean I’ve changed who I am.”

He let out a quiet laugh, but it had no humor. “You always were stubborn. But you know how fragile façades can be. One wrong step and snap everything shatters.”

Tell me, how many enemies have you sliced this week? Or are you too busy folding laundry and crying into your husband’s arms?”

Yor’s cheeks turned pink. “T-That’s not—! I don’t cry in his arms!"

Hemlock raised an eyebrow.

“I’m doing this of my own will,” she said, standing straighter. “Protecting this family is my duty too.”

“Hm.” He leaned in slightly. “Looks like the family's made you soft.”

She kept her voice low, her smile practiced. “You lost, remember?”

His eyes flickered. “Did I?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two weeks ago-

During their hunt for poachers in the jungle, they’d faced off. Yor in controlled fury, Hemlock in overconfidence.

“You’re hesitating Thorn Princess,” he’d said, circling her. “That fake family has made you sentimental. You’re slower.”

But she hadn’t hesitated. She’d parried his blade with graceful precision, attacked him with her stilettos, and sent a rock flying towards his forehead before he could recover.

“I’m faster,” she’d replied. “Because I have something worth protecting now.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Then, with the worst timing imaginable, another voice joined the scene.

“Yor?”

Her heart nearly stopped.

Loid Forger was approaching from across the street, briefcase in hand, a hint of concern on his face. His golden hair was tousled slightly from the wind, and he looked, as always, frustratingly composed.

“Loid!” Yor said a bit too loudly.

Loid paused beside her, his gaze quickly scanning Hemlock from head to toe. “Friend of yours?”

Yor nodded quickly. “Yes uh, a childhood friend. We lived on the same street when we were young and just bumped into each other now.”

Loid extended a hand, polite but firm. “Loid Forger. Husband.”

Hemlock returned the shake, his grip dry but too long. He tilted his head, looking between them. “It’s always interesting, seeing someone you used to know change. Some people thrive in their new roles. Others pretend.”

Loid’s eyes narrowed just slightly, his smile never fading. “Change is necessary. Adaptation keeps people alive. Or together.”

Yor’s heart was pounding. She could practically feel the weight of Loid’s analysis happening. She had to end this.

“Well, it was nice seeing you,” she said quickly. “But we need to get going. Our daughter's waiting.”

Hemlock stepped back with a faint bow. “Of course. I’ll leave you two to your charming domestic life.”

On the way home, Loid glanced at Yor several times. She was oddly quiet, her grip on the grocery bag tense.

He finally broke the silence. “That man, are you two close?”

Yor blinked. “What?! No!” She gave a soft, embarrassed laugh. “Of course not. He’s just old history."

Loid nodded. He didn’t show it, but the strange warmth that spread through his chest told him something else. Still, he filed it under potential threat to Operation Strix. He’d have Franky run a background check tonight.

Yor could sense the quiet tension radiating from Loid beside her. His polite facade remained intact, but she noticed his jaw tightening slightly and his gaze wandering toward where Hemlock had disappeared.

He seems annoyed, she thought. Was it something Hemlock said? Or…

Her heart skipped.

Could he have been jealous?

The thought made her cheeks burn instantly. She shook her head.

No. No, no, no. That’s ridiculous. We’re only married for appearances. That’s all.

She cast a sidelong glance at Loid, who was walking beside her with perfect posture.

Still… he did seem a little stiff. And the way he stepped in, all calm but cold...

She bit her lip.

Don’t be silly, Yor! He was probably just being protective. That’s all this is.

And yet, the image of Loid narrowing his eyes at Hemlock, his voice clipped and his handshake firm, stayed with her.

Their footsteps echoed in sync on the cobbled street, neither speaking, though the silence wasn’t empty. It pulsed thick with questions, observations left unsaid, and emotions neither fully understood.

Yor clutched the grocery bag, her eyes flicking to Loid's face. He was standing a little too close. Or maybe she was. Perhaps neither of them wanted to admit it.

Then, just barely their fingers brushed.

She stiffened. He glanced sideways. Nothing was said.

It happened again. A ghost of a touch. Delicate and unintentional maybe.

Yor's heart skipped.

Oh no…

Then deliberately this time Loid’s pinky brushed against hers.

Yor’s breath caught in her throat. Her blush deepened, blooming like spilled ink across her cheeks. Yet she didn’t pull away.

Instead, she let her hand stay where it was, so close and so still. A heartbeat passed. Then another. And gently, cautiously, Loid’s hand enclosed hers.

Her entire body tensed at the contact. Not because she disliked it.

Quite the opposite.

His hand was much larger than hers; it felt cool to the touch yet firm and comforting. She was accustomed to holding weapons, not hands. Yet, this felt right. Her soft fingers instinctively curled into his.

His hand is cold… Is he nervous too? He doesn't like me that way. No, no… It’s just to keep up appearances… Yes, that’s all this is.

But the way he held her securely, without hesitation, sent her thoughts spiraling.

Loid, meanwhile, stared straight ahead, his expression unreadable. But inwardly, his mind was racing.

Why does this feel so natural? It’s just for cover. That’s all. This is necessary for the success of Operation Strix. Then why does her hand fit so perfectly in mine?

Yor turned her head slightly, stealing a glance up at him.

Her face burned. She quickly looked away, pretending to study the cobblestones beneath her feet. Her heart was hammering louder than her footsteps.

Loid noticed the motion, the quick turn of her head, and the colour blooming across her cheeks. He said nothing. Instead, he gently squeezed her hand.

The touch was subtle, but it sent a shiver down her spine. Her eyes widened slightly, and she felt a warm sensation spreading throughout her arm.

She hesitated For a brief moment, uncertain of its meaning and what she wanted it to signify. But before her thoughts could spiral again, her fingers closed around his , tentative at first , then firmer. It was a reluctant, wordless reply.

Loid didn’t look at her, but he registered the squeeze. He felt it like a pulse, soft and unsure, but very real.

He swallowed lightly.

This is for the mission, he told himself. We’re supposed to look like a loving couple. That’s all this is.

Neither let go.

They walked like that all the way home two secret lives entangled by fate, their fingers intertwined in silence, each pretending not to notice how desperately they didn’t want to let go.