Archive of Our Own ^beta

Yor’s experience with romance was lackluster. She had a vague memory from before the war where she had a small crush on a boy in her class— she could hardly remember what he looked like anymore. Amongst the blur, all she could remember was his smile and his kindness. That memory was from a time that no longer existed. It was one of the first and only times she could recall having feelings for another person. 

Being the sole caretaker of a young child when she was just a young child herself didn’t often breed situations where she could want someone or they could want her. Her only priority was Yuri— He was more important than anything and anyone, including herself. She would sacrifice everything over and over again if it meant Yuri could grow up into the man he was today. 

It was only when Yuri moved out that she realized that her whole life revolved around him. Yor felt like she didn’t exist as a person outside of him. Her hyperfocus on ensuring his wellbeing meant she neglected anything that could contribute to her own happiness. She feigned smiles and overall contentment every time he visited, she would make up stories to tell about her coworkers who would hardly look at her or make up anecdotes about people who didn’t exist. 

The loneliness ate her alive. Her apartment would creak in the dead of night, either startling her from her dozing or filling her with disappointment when she realized Yuri wasn’t coming home. The silence pierced her ears and the rooms stayed startlingly cold without another body to fill them.

She threw herself headfirst into her Garden missions, despite the Shopkeeper advising against it. He could see right through her, though she supposed that would happen with anyone who knew everything about her. He didn’t forbid her from going on assignments, only expressing his concerns with her state of being and letting her go. 

The missions were reckless to say the least. She suffered larger injuries than usual; All easily healed, but when her mind wasn’t impaired, she rarely left with even a thread loose from her gown. 

The Shopkeeper pulled her aside one day, watering the plants in his garden as she observed from afar. She felt nervous, thinking he might terminate her, and she knew what that really entailed. A shiver went down her spine and goosebumps erupted up her arms. 

“Thorn Princess,” He suddenly said, “Is it companionship you seek?”

She startled, hands flailing, “I-I’m sorry sir..?”

He looked at her with no real emotion, at least one that Yor couldn’t decipher. She watched as he snipped flowers from the different flora and fauna surrounding them, slowly collecting and arranging them.

“You see, a bouquet is hardly perfect with just one flower. You need multiple flowers to create something worthwhile, something worth looking at. They can make each other stand out or blend together in a way that makes them become one.”

She was used to his random musings, though she never followed them very well. Yor nodded reluctantly, a drip of sweat running down the side of her face. 

The Shopkeeper eyed her strangely as he pulled a throwing knife out of the bouquet. She barely dodged in time, the blade slicing through the front pieces of her hair that she usually left down. Guess she would have to cut the other side to match. 

He said nothing after that. Yor assumed he was only testing her reflexes, especially since her performance had been subpar. As long as she was unscathed, she considered it a successful meeting with the Shopkeeper.

She spent most days avoiding her own apartment, spending any time there would only send her further into her own despair. Noticing other people was something she hardly did, Yor was always concerned about herself most of all. She never thought anyone would notice her either. Until she stumbled into a tailor shop one day.

The arrangement was odd, though her own self-preservation was more important than her own comfort. Yor heard whispers about herself— whether from her neighbors or from strangers passing by on the street. Bachelorettes weren’t common in Ostania, most women in her age group would have been married for a few years. She often received glares from people, either out of pity or from disbelief. And the SSS officers that lingered nearby seemed ever so suspicious every time she walked by without a man on her arm. 

It was bold to ask this man, Loid, to marry her just for their combined convenience. He accepted graciously to Yor’s surprise. She never expected him to say yes— no one would normally agree to something of that nature. He knew nothing about her besides what came from her own lips, but he trusted her anyway. It was only fair that she trusted him too.

Yor was happy to leave her cold, empty apartment. She felt the warmth engulf her as she stepped over the threshold into Loid and Anya’s apartment. Anya excitedly showed her around as Loid lingered in the background. It was easy to be alone with a man she didn’t really know when his daughter provided an ample buffer. She felt… nervous with him around sometimes, although she believed it was due to her inability to connect socially with most people. 

As they settled into a routine, within a few weeks, Yor was far more comfortable with her false family. Anya was kind and beautiful, as well as silly and smart. Her green eyes beamed at her as though she hung the moon in the sky. She was also one of the most perceptive children she had ever met. It was helpful for Yor who hardly knew how to read a room. Learning more about herself at her age due to a small child was incredibly rewarding for her. 

She learned too, that although Loid was quiet and aloof, he was also caring and gentle. He checked on her daily, even if he was the one with a few hairs out of place. Even when she felt wasn’t entirely helpful at the house, he would reassure her that everything she was doing was all right. Though, it still didn’t feel like enough. 

Yor leaned into what she could do best. The floors remained spotless with Yor’s excessive scrubbing, the dishes gleamed in the drying rack and the surfaces in the house had not a speck on them. She made sure Anya was well taken care of; Yor would help with bath time, combing her pink locks and styling it exactly how she liked. 

Loid was incredibly appreciative. She wondered how much he struggled before with his wife’s passing. Sometimes if she really paid attention, she could see an emotion on his face that she couldn’t quite place.

Yor sat idly in the living room one night. The ticking clock echoed throughout the room and the sounds of horns honked faintly from outside the window. The tea she made wafted deliciously and she watched as the steam raised from the two cups sitting on the coffee table. It had been a few months since she joined the Forger family. She finally felt as though she truly fit in. As a result of her improved home life, her social life also received some positive engagement. 

Her coworkers spoke to her now and she could relate to them better. She spoke to people on the street when they would compliment how cute Anya was. It seemed her appeal overall had heightened; Sometimes, she would even be approached by men who wished to pursue a relationship with her. It was strange, but also a relief, that her life had become this way. 

The click of the door pulled Yor from her thoughts. She jumped up, scooting closer to the foyer to greet Loid. His face warped from exhaustion to confusion as he realized she was waiting for him. 

She took his briefcase as he removed his hat, then prompted him to let her take his coat off. He was rightfully confused, she thought, she rarely stayed up this late. 

“Yor, is everything okay?” Loid asked. 

She nodded, placing his coat on the rack. “Of course, I just couldn’t sleep. I made you some tea if you’re up for it.”

He looked hesitant for a moment before letting out a small sigh accompanied by a slight smile. 

“Sure,”

Yor followed Loid to the couch, each of them sitting on opposite sides. The TV was at a hushed volume— They were playing reruns of her favorite soap opera, she only kept it on for background noise. She pulled her legs under her, sipping from her mug quietly as Loid did the same. 

He said nothing and while Yor usually felt the need to fill the space, the silence was a welcome comfort now. With the lights low and company beside her, the quiet was warmer than any she had ever experienced alone in her apartment after Yuri moved out. 

Her nails tapped the mug repeatedly to the rhythm of an old song her mother used to sing to her. 

“Loid,” She watched his eyes meet hers, his bangs threatening to cover them soon, “I know it’s silly, but I’m so grateful that you agreed to marry me. I used to spend many nights just like this in my own apartment except it wasn’t nearly as pleasant as this.”

He looked stunned for a short moment before a smile spread across his face, reaching his blue eyes, “Please, Yor. I think Anya and I are the lucky ones, you’ve been a wonderful addition to our home.”

Yor returned a smile, her attention turning back to the TV. Though, she could still feel Loid’s eyes on her. In her peripheral, she could see him set his mug down.

“The loneliness can be really bothersome, can’t it?” He muttered. 

Her head snapped to look at him. Their eyes met once again; His expression was unreadable and Yor could feel the heat creeping up her neck. That was the first time she felt it, the pitter-patter of her heart— something she hadn’t felt since before the war. 

She hummed in agreement and turned her attention back to the show playing in the background. She hoped the blush rising on her cheeks wouldn’t be too visible in the dim light of the living room. 

Yor hardly thought of that day since then. Spending time with Loid was normal for her, especially as his wife, no matter how false the arrangement may be. When she had time, she found herself waiting for him to come home on late nights. She always felt that the night was a comfort for her— She was born in the night. She felt comfortable and grounded as the sun began to meet the horizon. Although, now more than ever, the cold darkness felt more inviting than ever.

Loid was surprised the first few times, but as she assumed, if she kept greeting him at the door, he’d quickly become accustomed to it. And he did. His eyebrows no longer rose to his hairline when he would see her on the couch, in the kitchen, in the foyer. They fell into a routine, Yor would grab anything from his hands and put them away as he removed his shoes at the door and placed his hat and coat on the rack. 

When she felt like a teetering boat on the cusp of capsizing, Loid was there to whisk her to a better, sturdier boat. Even if it was an arrangement of convenience, he helped her in ways she never expected. She could tell he didn’t have the same feelings as her; He was grateful to her, definitely. Yor swooped in when his wife’s dying wish was to ensure her daughter had a good education. It wasn’t realistic to want more, she knew. 

Hiding a crush on her husband was easier said than done. Before their interactions were simple, like that of friends living under one roof. They moved like a well-oiled machine, especially when it came to Anya. The mornings were easy; While Loid readied breakfast and made Anya lunch, Yor would wake up and get herself ready for work. In Anya’s groggy stupor, Yor would do her best to help her get ready for the school day (as long as she cooperated). Loid was usually up before her and Anya, already dressed with an apron over his work clothes. Yor’s eyes lingered on him a little longer these days. 

When he wasn’t working late or completely exhausted to the point that Yor had to send him to rest, Loid helped her with cleaning the house. Even after cooking, he would happily move to her side to grab wet plates to dry. She had told him plenty of times that she should be the one in charge of the dishes and cleaning since she couldn’t offer much in the way of cooking, but he waved her off every time. 

When their fingers brushed as she handed her wet dishes to him, Yor had to fight the urge to snatch her hand away. Her eyes would immediately lock onto the dish she was washing as she felt her face heat up. Part of her wished to just let her hand rest there, to intertwine her fingers with his. Though, she couldn’t fathom doing something so embarrassing. She could hardly look his way afterwards, too afraid he’d notice her reddening face.

After Anya was put to bed one night, Yor sat idly in the living room, reading a book. She felt more at ease than she had lately. Loid hadn’t done too much to make her swoon lately, so she felt more clear-minded than usual. Her eyes scanned the pages as she heard the bathroom door creak open, footsteps pattering slowly down the hall. 

She glanced up only for a moment to greet Loid, but was met with a sight she rarely saw. A towel rested on his neck as he used one of the edges to dry his hair roughly. He was usually fully dressed and ready by the time Yor rose from her slumber in the mornings, but occasionally, she would get to see him just like this. He wore gray sweatpants along with a white tee that stuck to his back from the water dripping from his hair. 

Yor was so embarrassed to be looking at him like this. She felt lecherous for finding her husband, who regarded her so respectfully, incredibly attractive. It was disrespectful what her thoughts wandered to for a split second. She shook her head a little, playing it off as though a piece of hair was stuck to her face. If Loid noticed, he said nothing. 

“Yor, do you think you could help me with something?” He asked.

She didn’t trust herself to speak, merely nodding and standing at attention.

He tousled his hair in front of his face, the strands falling in front of his eyes. It was clearly longer than he kept it, but she assumed he would make an appointment at the salon sometime soon, so she didn’t mention it. 

“I remember you said you used to cut Yuri’s hair, so I was wondering if you’d be okay with trimming my hair a bit,”

It was more surprising to her that he remembered something she said in passing more than the fact that he asked her. She couldn’t afford to take Yuri to a salon back when they were kids and it hadn’t been safe during the war to find someone to cut his hair. So instead, she found a magazine that detailed do-it-yourself cuts step by step. She found herself becoming pretty good at it, especially when she gained an affinity for sharp objects. 

“O-Of course, only if you don’t mind an amateur cut. I’m not a professional,” Yor muttered.

He pinched the lengthened hair between his fingers, looking up at it, “I don’t mind at all. Mostly, I’d like to get the hair out of my face. Maybe we should take a family trip to the hairdresser when Anya’s hair gets passed the length she likes,”

She followed him to the bathroom, nails pressing into her palm as she clenched her fists. Realistically, she shouldn’t have agreed to this. She’d kept her physical interactions with Loid to a minimum since discovering her minute crush on him, mostly for his safety, due to her outrageous outbursts from previous dates. As long as she kept calm, she was sure it wouldn’t end with Loid in a bloody mess in the bathroom. 

Yor brought a stool along with them, having Loid sit with his back facing her. As soon as the shears made contact with her fingers, she felt a sense of familiarity. Hesitantly, she made the first cut. Loid didn’t seem at all worried or bothered. She could feel his trust in her, even if she was liable to make a mistake, he relaxed under her grasp nonetheless. 

They sat quietly, once again surrounded by the content silence they knew so well. Yor focused on her snipping, only speaking when she had something to share or replying back to Loid. They spoke about simple things like work, Anya, their coworkers, Bond, hobbies they had been meaning to ask about, anything. 

She wasn’t entirely sure what led to the conversation at hand. They spoke without any real intention, mostly just spouting what came to mind. Although, the words that spilled from Loid’s lips made her falter slightly.

“---I was surprised you wanted to marry me, anyway. After all, you’re a beautiful woman. I’m sure you had many suitors waiting in line, so why would you choose me anyway?”

The snip of the scissors echoed against the bathroom walls and Yor’s heart raced. She knew he didn’t mean anything by it— He hardly knew about her circumstances before she agreed to marry him, only that she wanted to put her brother’s mind at ease. Her ruby eyes scanned his face, stepping back slightly. 

“Loid, I didn’t have anyone waiting in line for me,” She smiled, though her eyes looked sad, “I’m sure you remember what I said that night I waited up for you the first time,”

For a moment, Yor could swear he appeared panicked. It was quickly replaced with his usual nonchalance, although an apologetic smile adorned his face. 

“I apologize for my ignorance, Yor. It definitely wasn’t right of me to assume, b-but really no one had shown interest in you before?” Loid questioned.

She placed the shears down on the bathroom counter, tousling his hair slightly to examine any further pieces she may need to cut. A small smile spread across her lips as she did so. 

“Mmm, no, not really. Although, I do have a fond memory from before the war of a boy from my class going out of his way to be kind to me. I developed a crush, but I never found out if he liked me back. He was killed in one of the first air strikes,” She chuckled bitterly. 

Her eyes settled on Loid’s and she almost recoiled, though the tear slipping down her cheek and his rough hand grasping hers quickly grounded her. She didn’t know she would be so emotional about this boy that she hardly remembered, that she knew for barely a fraction of her life. Life had a funny way of suppressing things when in survival mode. She wondered if she mourned the boy or if she mourned the life she wished she had before the war changed everything. 

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice when Loid stood. His finger from the hand not holding onto her wrist slid across her cheek, collecting her tears. And as much as she wished to pull away from him, to laugh it off as a childish feeling, she felt herself being pulled close to him. Against her better judgement, her arms wrapped around his torso and her fingers grabbed his shirt tightly. His arms wrapped around her shoulders and in the comforting silence they created, Yor sobbed into his chest. 

Time escaped her. It could have been ten seconds or ten minutes, she wasn’t sure. All her emotions rose to the surface and for the first time in years, Yor finally cried. Loid said nothing, merely caressing her head and rubbing soft, slow circles into her back. 

He reminded her a lot of that boy from her class. 

After that night, they become more comfortable with each other. Yor apologized to him the next day, citing her behavior as odd, but Loid in all his kindness expressed that he was happy he could be there for her in her time of need. She felt her heart swell and her chest tighten— She almost wished he wasn’t so kind and so beautiful. 

She wished to be there for him, to help him with his own struggles. Yor could tell when Loid was battling things by himself. If he reached out to her for help even once, she would gladly share his burdens with him. Knowing all of his faults and strengths was something she wished for so badly. It seemed ridiculous, to be so involved with a person that used to be a stranger to her. 

She wanted to know everything about him.

Early into their arrangement, Yor remembered feeling anxious when Anya would stay at a friend’s house. She always felt comfortable with Anya around, being good with kids was one of her specialties. Men, however, were a different story. She always struggled socially, even before the war isolated her completely from anyone and everyone. 

But now, she sat confidently and comfortably with Loid. Anya was away at Becky’s, so they felt it was as good a time as any to have some wine. Yor would be having a very moderate amount though, what fun is a child-free night if you fall asleep before the night begins? They sat somewhat closely to each other, not touching, but close enough to feel his body heat from the arm behind her resting on the couch. 

Loid didn’t seem affected by the alcohol at all, not even a flush rising on his cheeks after two glasses. As soon as Yor felt the heat begin to fester on her face, she immediately set her glass down. There was a nice warmth and a small buzz running through her system. They spoke about the soap opera rerun on the TV; Although he wouldn’t admit it, Yor believed Loid enjoyed the show as well. 

When the show ended, Yor turned down the volume slightly and turned toward her husband. He looked suspicious, or maybe even a little intrigued as a smirk crossed his features. Her heart didn’t race as much as usual, perhaps due to the effects of the alcohol, but she bravely made eye contact with him, knees knocking with his thigh as she moved closer. 

“It’s nice to see you like this,” She said.

“Like what?”

“Relaxed and having fun, or at least I think you are. You usually look so stressed and tense, like the whole world is resting on your shoulders,”

He chuckled a little, taking a sip from his wine glass, “Sometimes I feel like it is…”

“So, let me share that burden with you,”

“W-What do you mean?”

Her hands moved before she could take it back. Living with him, seeing him do his best as both a husband and a father to his daughter, to their daughter. It was becoming increasingly difficult to hold herself back. She had no idea how he felt, if he even considered her a friend or just a means to an end. With her inhibitions slightly lowered, Yor found that she didn’t care, that if she was rejected tonight, she could handle it. She would never make another move on him and would carry out the arrangement however he wished. 

Her fingers softly grazed his cheek, catching roughly on the stubble he’d yet to shave. His eyes were wide, but darker than usual. He was frozen in place like prey and Yor was the predator waiting to pounce. 

“You don’t have to be perfect all the time, Loid. Let me take care of you, too,” Yor muttered.

Her hands dropped from his face and rested on his chest. She rose slowly onto her knees and pushed him lightly to sit back against the arm of the couch. He could stop her now, all he had to do was say the word. She was almost certain he would stop her. He’d speak about how this wasn’t what this arrangement was for or that exploring a relationship wasn’t something he wanted. Instead, he sat there unsure, but willing. 

As his back made contact with the arm and Yor watched as his blue eyes pleaded to her before closing them. She approached him with purpose now, his breath mixing with hers as she leaned down. 

When their lips make contact the first time, it’s chaste and quick. A trial before they go any further. Yor was nervous, she had never done anything like this. When she met his eyes after the first kiss, he looked insatiable. And she nearly laughed because she felt the same, it wasn’t enough. The next kiss was initiated by Loid as he rose to meet her lips, his hands grasped onto her waist like he was afraid she’d disappear.

The second kiss evolved into something she couldn’t even fathom. Somewhere along the line, she crawled into his lap, straddling him as her fingers scratched at the nape of his neck. Their lips met over and over and over again and even when she felt like she was gasping for air, she couldn’t get enough. He was clearly more experienced than her, coaxing their lips to meet in a way that made Yor feel it all the way to her toes.

He let her take the lead, her hands caressed his face desperately. His tongue slid past her lips and she wasn’t even a little disgusted. It was astonishing to her that people were doing something that felt this good and she'd never experienced it. Their lips smacked together and Loid creeped lower down her neck, licking and biting as her breath quickened. 

He pulled back for a moment, grabbing her chin to have her look at him, “Is this okay?”

She nodded profusely, using her hand to wipe some of the saliva that coated her lips away.

“Use your words, Yor,”

She leaned down to kiss him once more, placing kisses down his neck as well, “Yes, it’s okay. It’s more than okay,”

He pressed her body closer to his, her breasts pressing against his chest. A moan escaped her lips as he kissed further, stopping just before meeting the hem of her sweater dress. She thought she must look ridiculous, moaning and gripping him desperately just from kissing. But Yor was overwhelmed with how she felt, both physically and emotionally. She wished to keep going, to please him too. Though, she didn’t know how.

She pulled back from him just before he was going to speak, his eyes instantly looking worried. Her fingers grabbed the top of her dress, pulling up more securely. The flush on her face spread quickly and violently as she sat back, still straddling his lap. His hands loosened their grip on her waist, sliding down before resting by her hips. He looked conflicted, maybe even a little guilty, and Yor knew she had to speak before he got too into his head. 

Placing two fingers under his chin, Yor moved his face to look at her.

“Loid, whatever you’re thinking, it isn’t your fault,” She said.

He grimaced slightly, “I got carried away,”

She laughed, “You’re not the only one,”

She leaned forward once more, kissing Loid slowly and deliberately. 

“I think… we should talk first,” She whispered. 

That night, they lay everything on the table. Yor confessed to her festering crush; There was no possibility of her hiding it now, especially with what happened on the couch. There was a distant fear that Loid didn’t feel the same way about her, that he only gave her that kind of pleasure because she initiated it. Loid quickly dispelled those feelings, citing that he may have been in love with her before she realized her own feelings. 

He told her that even if they hadn’t agreed to this arrangement, he thought they would end up like this anyway. She never pegged Loid for the romantic type; He was so calculated with his movements, so closed off. But he decided to open up for her, at least a little bit, and she couldn’t be more grateful.

She didn’t dare speak of being an assassin, it wasn’t quite the time for it yet. To find out your wife is a bloodthirsty killer would ruin everything they may build in the future. Yor would keep her identity concealed as long as she was able. As long as her family wasn't in danger, she would keep her job to herself. 

They peel themselves from each other eventually and Yor watched as Loid’s eyes widened when he glanced at her. They’d really gotten carried away because Yor’s neck was decorated with bruises from the biting and licking Loid had done earlier. Before she could panic, Loid reassured her that he could probably cover them up before Anya came home the next day.

Yor figured they had enough fun tonight, but decided they deserved one more glass of wine. Yor sat leaning into Loid, his arm around her body as they watched a movie they had seen several times. She felt content like this, to be in his arms. His chest rose and fell, her head moving in tandem with it.

Her eyes were getting increasingly heavy, but she didn’t want the night to end. It felt like a dream that she didn’t want to wake from. With his body heat warming her and his steady breaths slightly rocking her, she felt herself drift off to sleep. 

The next morning proceeded (almost) normally. When she awoke on the couch to Loid carefully rising, he leaned down for a kiss. It was strange, but welcoming. He had to pick Anya up from Becky’s, so while Yor is still groggy, he hid the marks he made on her neck with makeup she was unsure the origin of. She would have questioned it, but mostly she was just glad he had something to cover them up. Imagining a scenario where Anya saw the marks decorating her neck sent shivers down her spine; Not even she could climb her way out of that one.

When he left, he met her lips again. Her usual violent blush was more subdued pink now, seemingly accustomed to Loid's kisses after last night's interaction. It seemed he was trying to get more kisses in before Anya got home. They agreed not to tell Anya yet since they themselves still have a lot of talking and finagling to do. 

As the door shut, Yor basked in the warmth of last night. She quietly gathered the dishes and empty plates as Bond slept in the corner. The TV still hummed in the background, now playing some obscure movie she had only seen in passing. When she passed through the living room, her eyes caught the doctored photos they had taken for their home. Even if they were fake, she could see how comfortable they looked with each other even then. 

A small smile crept on her face, pink dusting her cheeks as she sat the dishes in the sink. She supposed they would need to take some new ones soon if things kept progressing as they were. The words the Shopkeeper said all that time ago echoed in her head. Something about how one flower wasn’t enough to create a bouquet; She understood what he meant now. 

It would take some getting used to, having these feelings and these thoughts. As a killer, she almost felt it wrong to believe she could have something this warm, this kind. But as the door creaked open and Anya came flying in along with Loid, she thought it was nice to have something this special, just for her.