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It was just past five PM, the hour when Loid the psychiatrist had finished seeing his last patient and was preparing to go home. Barring any last minute errands or missions, it was usually a straight trip back to his apartment, where Yor and Anya and Bond would be waiting. He would take off his coat and hat, set down his briefcase, and go to the kitchen to begin making supper.
Today, however, Loid’s plans included a stop at the florist a few blocks down from his office. It was one of the most popular flower shops in town, always full of customers, and always advertising their bouquets in the papers. He’d never purchased anything from them before, but the proximity was convenient, and so Loid entered the shop, the door knocking against a little bell that chimed as it opened. The store wasn’t quite so crowded as he’d seen before, though there were a few quiet patrons milling about, studying the flowers for sale. Loid had a general idea of what he was looking for, and made his way over to a display of premade bouquets, ones bursting with colors, tied neatly with perfect ribbons, assembled with flowers of all shapes and sizes and scents.
One in particular caught his eye; he flipped the brown paper tag over to check the price and nearly staggered to the ground. How much Dalc? He couldn’t remember spending nearly as much on the flowers he’d bought for his previous… relationships , though to be fair, he’d never bought any of those women a bouquet quite as stunning as this one. A perfectly round pomp of bright lilies, pink roses, lush daisies, delicate baby’s breath, and greenery arranged tastefully into something that might have looked more at home in a wedding ceremony. It was stunning.
And it was sure to make Yor happy when he gave it to her.
Loid was nothing if not dedicated to making certain the image of his perfect “family” never faltered. It was customary, almost expected, for men to come home every so often with gifts for their partners—jewelry, wine, flowers, things like that. Whether or not there was a reason for the gift made no difference at all, though in the past week Loid had noticed Yor returning from work looking exceptionally exhausted and run down. She’d dismissed him with a tired smile whenever he asked, explaining that things were just very busy. Loid would respond with an understanding nod and brew an extra strong cup of chamomile tea for her on those nights, while a small, odd feeling of helplessness settled in his stomach.
Though she had no real obligation to do so, Yor worked hard to care for their little family. They'd only lived together a few months so far, but Loid had never before seen her in such a state because of work, and so he decided that she deserved a little pick-me-up. In addition to the flowers, he’d also made dinner reservations for them at the classy little bistro in town. Their night out together would also do well to keep up appearances, he reasoned.
He paid the cashier for the flowers, almost immediately swearing he could hear Sylvia’s voice ringing in his ears about the cost, before making his way home. The sun had begun to dip down in the sky; the late-spring breeze was gentle, cool, and comforting. It would be the perfect evening for the two of them.
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Yor’s eyes grew wide and shimmered with emotion when Loid and the bouquet greeted her at the front door later.
“Wh—Loid, what are these for? They’re beautiful!” she gasped.
“Just a small token of my appreciation,” he said.
Yor took the flowers, and Loid busied himself with taking off his shoes and coat. “I know this whole arrangement between us is only out of convenience, but…well, you still do so much for me and Anya.” He turned to her and smiled. “Even if you’re not obligated to. It truly is appreciated.”
Yor’s cheeks reddened, and she hid her face behind the bouquet. “I-it’s genuinely a pleasure!” she said. “Anya is a darling little girl, and you’re a wonderful father to her.” She lowered the flowers. "I'm very happy to be here." Loid’s heart took the opportunity then to skip a beat as he gazed at her, face framed by delicate petals and deep greenery. Yor's dark eyes caught him like a deer in headlights, and after a few silent moments that felt frozen in time, the two of them laughed awkwardly and moved to go to the kitchen simultaneously.
"I-I'll go find a vase for these!" Yor said with a fluster in her voice.
Loid made a noise of agreement, finding it suddenly very important to check inside the refrigerator. He could feel the tips of his ears getting warmer, an unexpected flush on his cheeks. His heart, apparently deciding to make up for earlier, was now beating twice as fast with Yor’s words echoing in his head. She looked so happy . He wanted to make her happy, for no reason other than that she deserved it. It was important, of course, for Yor to feel appreciated while their little charade carried on. The weakness he suddenly felt in his knees, however, was certainly a failure on his part to keep up with his usual physical fitness. He’d need to start making a point to go to the gym more often.
“I also made dinner reservations,” Loid said, collecting himself and closing the refrigerator door. “The bistro on Fifth street.”
Yor’s eyes widened again, big and bright. “You did? Oh, I’ve always wanted to go there! The terrace is so beautiful at night. I love how it overlooks the city—is that why you let Anya spend tonight at Becky’s?”
Loid nodded, conveniently leaving out the fact that Franky had left him high and dry by calling him last minute to tell him he’d made plans with some woman he’d just met, and couldn’t Loid just let the dog watch Anya for the night? Thankfully, the Blackbells had graciously accepted when Loid asked if they wouldn’t mind hosting his daughter for the night. He’d deal with Franklin tomorrow.
Once they had changed into more date-appropriate clothing, Loid led Yor out of the apartment and down the hall, making sure they passed by the neighbors at the exact moment he knew they’d be returning home from work. The more people saw them out doing husband-and-wife things, the better. There was also that small flicker of pride that bloomed in Loid’s chest whenever he caught passersby looking at them together - he wouldn’t say it was exhilarating, or addicting, but…it certainly was pleasant.
He offered Yor his arm, and with a smile, she took it, holding onto him the entire way to the restaurant.
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After drinks (Yor helpfully ordered a virgin cocktail), dinner, and dessert, Loid suggested they walk off their meal around town. They left the bistro feeling warm and full and content, and Loid noticed that this time, Yor took his arm before he even offered, slipping her hand around the crook of his elbow, a solid, comforting weight that was beginning to feel strangely natural. As it should, Loid conceded. It only meant that they were acclimating well to the different facets of their marriage together.
Still, when he glanced to his side and saw the pink bite of the cool evening air on Yor’s cheeks, the feeling of her slim hand on his arm, her relaxed smile as they walked…something like electricity tingled up from his feet and through his veins, wild and dizzying and enchanting. He quickly returned his gaze forward. Steady, Twilight. You barely had a full glass of wine.
Soon they could hear the sounds of a jazz band, quiet at first, then growing stronger as they arrived at the town square. There was a small pavilion, decorated in strings of twinkling lights, under which a small band was playing lively music. Children ran through the crowds of people who had stopped to listen, whooping and laughing. Friends and couples danced on the makeshift dance floor in front of the pavilion.
Yor turned to Loid. “Shall we stop and listen for a bit?”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” he said, and guided them over to an empty bench nearby.
As the band played on, Loid began to realize that this was the first time in a long time that he’d actually sat and listened to music for enjoyment. It was surprisingly relaxing. For tonight at least, he found it easy to focus on the music without any intrusive thoughts about work. He could just…listen to the melody, appreciate the sounds of each instrument, the harmonies. The faded backdrop of the people around them, not listening for any conversations in particular, just letting it all melt together into a song of its own.
They sat in comfortable silence together, close but not too close. Yor’s hands were folded neatly in her lap as she listened, one finger tapping along to the beat as she watched intently. Even just listening to music, it seemed, Yor had a grace to her that always seemed to show itself in the most unexpected moments. It made him curious about her―for the mission, of course, but then there were the times Loid found himself wondering what she was like as a child, caring for her younger brother. As a student in school, what sorts of things she'd done in university, while he had been fighting on the frontlines. Had her parents also been casualties of the war?
The band slowed down for its next song, the music becoming deeper and richer, gentler. The couples dancing on the floor grew closer to one another, swaying together, embracing.
Yor’s voice suddenly cut through Loid’s thoughts. "Do you dance?"
Loid blinked, looking over at Yor, who sat close to him, hands still in her lap as she waited for his answer. He cleared his throat. "I took lessons when I was a child," he said, recalling a mission from two years ago that had him working undercover as a ballroom instructor. "Though I can't say I remember much of what I learned back then."
He'd actually been one of the best instructors in the school's history, though that didn't necessarily mean he liked dancing. It was an incredibly intimate process, to which he could easily appear at ease on the surface; underneath his cool exterior, however, he was always a bundle of nerves.
"And yourself?" he asked, smiling away the memory. “I mean, I’ve seen the way you and Anya cut a rug at home…”
Yor’s eyes widened briefly—from surprise or embarrassment, Loid couldn’t quite say—before she shrugged her shoulders and laughed sweetly, her rosy cheeks turning a shade redder.
“Oh, that! Honestly, do those look like the moves of someone who’s been professionally taught?”
“If they are, I’d suggest you get your money back,” Loid said with a small, though mischievous smile.
Yor’s laughter grew, and the sound of it warmed something in Loid’s chest, lifted him up until he felt as though he were walking on the cloud tops. Smiling had never come so easily to him as it did when he was with Yor, and it was a frightening revelation.
“Well, if you don’t mind my two left feet, would you like to…?” Yor nudged her head towards the couples and children dancing in the open town square while the band continued their set. The moon hung brightly in the night sky, the usually navy-colored velvet of it muted by the strings of lights hanging about, illuminating the crowds in a glowing, dreamy haze.
Loid couldn’t help but lose himself in the beauty of it all. Though he’d never been fond of dancing, the refreshing, sweet breeze rustling through the trees, the scent of Yor’s perfume, the twinkling lights surrounding them seemed to convince him that tonight could be different.
He rose from the bench, stood in front of Yor and bowed, extending a hand to her. “It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Forger.” He looked up just in time to see her entire face turn a very pretty shade of scarlet, though he was impressed with how well she quickly took it in stride, placing her hand in his with a trembling smile before she rose to her feet, following Loid to the middle of the square.
“Nothing too complicated,” Yor warned him teasingly, placing her other hand on his shoulder while he settled his palm against the small of her back. Without another word, they let the music guide their steps, slow and simple, a little world of their own carved into the crowded dance floor as the rest of the bodies around them faded into the background. Loid found once again that he couldn’t take his eyes off of Yor as they danced, nor did he want to. While she was busy watching her feet, Loid took the opportunity to watch the way her hair swayed gently, to feel the slight curve of her back, softened by the jacket she wore.
“Am I doing alright?” she asked, looking back up.
The lights surrounding them turned to little constellations reflected in Yor’s eyes. Loid felt another tremble in his knees, just as he had earlier. It must have been the wine from dinner, he reasoned, and also why his limbs were suddenly feeling fuzzy and warm. If there was any possibility that he was falling in love with Yor, it was surely a testament to the success of this particular mission: to give her an unforgettable night out, to express his gratitude to her, to provide a reprieve from whatever the long hours at work were taking from her. And judging by the way she inched just a bit closer to him, the way her entire demeanor felt more relaxed now than he’d seen it in weeks, he was doing just fine.
“Perfect,” Loid murmured.