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A quiet life is something that Loid Forger still isn’t quite used to.
Having lived his life as Twilight, one of—if not the best spy in Westalis, for almost two decades, there are things he can’t just stop doing, habits he can’t just break. He still does a thorough sweeping in the apartment that he shares with his family for bugs or any devices related to espionage, or even explosives, and sometimes he won’t stop until he is sure that the place is all clear and safe. Sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night and reaches for the gun under his pillow only to find his daughter’s sleeping body squeezed between her parents in their bed. When his wife reaches to hold his hand in public, he still flinches, but he quickly relaxes and lifts her hand to press a loving kiss on her knuckles, making her blush.
Adjusting to his new identity as Loid Forger is proven to be difficult at first. It requires him to unlearn many things from his old line of job, but on every step of the way, he knows he will always have the full support from his family. Shortly after Operation STRIX ended, he didn’t renew his ‘contract’ with Berlint General Hospital. Instead, he decided to study Art Therapy for not more than personal reasons. Whatever he wants to do next, he still hasn’t figured it out yet, and it makes him feel like a teenager fresh from highschool, not knowing which field of career to pursue. Then again he has never experienced that phase before, being robbed of his youth so early in life and never having the privilege to live in a normalcy, but there’s always a first time in everything.
“You’re tense,” he hears Yor’s murmur against his pulse, as she presses small kisses on his neck. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Loid lets out a sigh, before wrapping his arm around her wife’s waist, pulling her closer in his lap and kissing her temple. It’s moments like this that often reminds him that he is not the only one who goes through major life changes.
The Forgers moved to Leipzich, a four hour train ride away from Berlint, for safety reasons. Security was tight following the signing of the peace treaty between Westalis and Ostania. After Donovan Desmond’s arrest, many people who were linked to the former prime minister were brought in for questioning, including Twilight disguised as Dr. Loid Forger who managed to infiltrate Desmond’s inner circle, from which he gathered enough information to tip the authorities about the plan to spread pro-war propaganda. Loid Forger was proven innocent and the questioning was a part of the protocol to avoid suspicions, but WISE didn’t want to take risks, in case people who were still loyal to Desmond wanted to seek revenge. Moving away from Berlint would give the impression that the Forgers wanted to start anew (maybe because they were trying to hide some secrets, or maybe they wanted to break some old ties, who knew). And so it was decided.
When Anya learned about the plans, she was devastated. It was clear how much Eden and the friends she had made meant to her, and she locked herself in her room for a day, making her parents worry. Loid was almost losing his patience, and if it wasn’t for Yor, who tried to comfort him and tried to reason with their daughter, he wouldn’t know what to do. After days of persuasion, Anya eventually agreed.
“It’s okay if you don’t, Loid. I’m here for you.”
Her voice is gentle and melodic in his ear and he finds himself relaxing against her. Eyes fluttering close, he inhales the faint scent of her soap— is it the one with rose and gardenia petals , finding comfort in her presence. He hears her giggle when he nuzzles the exposed skin of her shoulder, prompting him to hum against her skin, making her squirm in his embrace.
How his wife still puts up with him, he doesn’t know.
The way everything came to light—the secrets they managed to hide from each other—it was rather accidental. Twilight was on a side mission to infiltrate a smuggling ring in a warehouse in south Berlint. On the night he was supposed to gather some information about when the next smuggled weapons would arrive, disguised as one of the warehouse employees, an uninvited guest came knocking. That was when he heard that familiar voice saying, “May I have the honour of taking your life?” before he witnessed the bloodbath. He knew he had to hide, but Thorn Princess, the name he heard the head of the smuggling ring address the assassin with before a golden stiletto pierced his skull, moved faster.
He narrowly dodged a stiletto and faced a dead end, which left him with no other choice but try to fight his way out of there. Twilight moved swiftly in dodging her weapons, but Thorn Princess was agile. Suddenly the idea of his wife being an assassin made a lot of sense—how she managed to sneak up on him undetected, her knowledge about pressure points and human anatomy, and how she managed to have the upper hand when she fought him in that castle even in her drunken state. He was frustrated for not noticing it sooner that he managed to slip for a second, and Thorn Princess took it as an opportunity to straddle him and grab her knife that was hidden in her boot. She pressed it against his neck, and Twilight grabbed her hand, trying to push her off his body.
Her eyes were losing their familiar glints and warmth. They were narrow, dark crimson almost looking like the colour of her enemy’s blood that stained her hands and that black dress he bought her on Valentine’s Day. They were filled with a thirst to kill, to do what she was told, and under the dim lighting he could barely recognise his wife— pretend wife. Deep down, seeing her determination to get the job done strangely made Twilight feel excited.
The spy managed to regain his strength and pushed the knife away from his neck, only to have Thorn Princess lunged at him for the second time. He rolled to his side just in time to deflect her attack, and much to his luck, her knife only scraped his mask. Seeing the bloodless gauze, the assassin tilted her head in confusion, and Twilight pushed her to lay on her back, pinning her arms on either side of her head. She was squirming underneath him, and only when he called her name did she stop.
Twilight decided to explain why and how he got there, coming clean against the protocols and everything else that his mentor had taught him about secrecy. There was no use in lying to her, he thought, Yor wouldn’t be easily fooled. Time and time again she had proven to him how great of a person she was, either as her own person or in taking up her roles as a mother and wife. He, at least, owed her an explanation, a chance to learn about the truth. So he told her, and although he kept convincing himself that he did that for the sake of his current ongoing mission that seemed to be going well, to make sure that Yor or Thorn Princess wouldn’t be in the way, his reason ran deeper than what he allowed himself to feel about her and the family that he had found.
The look of hurt and betrayal on her face stayed with him until the next few weeks, leaving him unsettled and burdened with guilt. He hated that she no longer smiled at him before she left for work. He hated that she gave him cold shoulders. He decided to give her the space and time she needed. He was compromised, and there was no turning back.
He used to not believe in destiny until he met his family, and now he wanted to believe that Yor came into his life for a reason, that perhaps it was meant to be. Weeks after the reveal, she proposed a date in a coffee shop just two blocks away from their apartment. Twilight hated how hopeful he was, thinking that she would give him another chance, while he should be bracing himself for a rejection. The date started out well, with Yor telling him that she understood why he did what he did. She then explained her story, and they both realised that they weren’t different after all. What he didn’t expect was hearing her say those three words—words he wanted to return so badly. She told him he didn’t have to say them back, not yet. She was that understanding. She was simply that kind.
Yor and her big heart, the biggest he’d ever known, was still willing to embrace him even after she learned the truth was a blessing, then he swore to whatever higher power is out there that he would always protect her and the family they had grown to love, that he would do anything to ensure their safety and happiness. He ended up pulling her into an embrace as they stood by the river on the way home. The close proximity allowed their hearts to beat in sync, and soon he found himself kissing her, desperately and passionately, as if wanting to show his wife how much she meant to him, that he wanted her to stay and be patient as he learned how to love. Little did he know that she had never planned to leave him, nor would she want to.
“I love you.” It’s his turn to murmur in that soothing timbre that she likes. “I love you so much.”
The first time he allowed himself to return those words, it felt so right. Now he’s made a habit of saying them out loud to let his wife know just how much he loves her on every chance he gets.
“I’m sorry, my love, I didn’t mean to ruin the mood,” he tells her, resting his forehead against her cheek.
Instead of replying, Yor lets out a hum. She pulls away just enough to cradle his head so he can turn to face her, her thumbs rubbing gently on his cheeks. Loid leans into her touch, and when he opens his eyes, he is greeted by her lovely face. Her lips curve into a smile and she traces her fingers down his jaw, feeling the slightly rough texture of his growing facial hair.
“Oh, don’t apologise,” she says, dark crimson eyes following where her fingers move, “I know it’s hard for you to adjust to this new life. I admit, at first it was hard for me, too. But,” she pauses, her gaze darting back to his blue eyes as she leans in to press her forehead against his, “we can go through this together. You’ll always have me.”
Loid nods slowly, his lips curving into a smile and his heart swelling inside his ribcage. It is something he is starting to get used to—his wife’s affection. Truly, there’s nobody else he would rather spend the rest of his life with. There’s nobody else who can understand him like she does.
“I love you,” he murmurs, his mind hazy with his love for her.
The lavender haze still lingers, clouding their mind. After all, it has only been a week since their official ‘wedding’—well, ‘vow renewal,’ for those who don’t know their full story. It’s never felt so right to open a brand new chapter and close the previous one, leaving their old jobs and lives behind to continue living as their true selves together, and they’ve never been happier.
“I love you too,” Yor says, smiling, still cupping his cheeks. “Just like our wedding vows, remember?”
Taking a deep breath, he begins to recite, “For better or worse,” he pauses to press a soft kiss on her inner wrist without breaking eye contact, “for richer or poorer.”
“In good times and in bad,” Yor continues, cheeks flushing at the gesture, “in sickness and in health.”
Loid cups her cheek, bringing their faces even closer, before murmuring against her lips, “No matter what hardships await us,”
“Let us be there for one another.”
As soon as they both have recited the last part of their vows together, Yor closes the gap between them and captures his lips in a kiss. It starts out slow and sweet, as if she wants to take her time and savour this very moment, to bask in the warmth that is her husband’s presence, and Loid lets her. He lets her set up the pace, always being so patient with her, giving her time to adjust to new experiences. In return, she is more than happy to give in, indulging him in the act of passion.
Locking her arms behind his neck, Yor tilts her head to deepen the kiss, smiling when her husband returns the gesture with the same passion, his hand slipping underneath her sweater to caress her exposed back. She gasps, fingertips buried in his grown blond hair above the nape of his neck, feeling the soft texture. In response, Loid lets out a groan, shivering under her gentle caress. When they finally pull away from their kiss, he moves to nuzzle the crook of his wife’s neck, smiling when that lovely floral fragrance fills his senses once again.
“I pledge myself to you, Yor Forger,” he murmurs against her skin, pressing lazy kisses all the way down the curve of her shoulder, feeling her body shudder at his ministrations. “I will have you for as long as you want me.”
Yor giggles, leaning back slightly to allow him access to her collarbone. She tugs on his hair when he nips on her skin, silently grateful that her husband has decided to grow out his hair. Now she needs to convince him to not get an undercut any time soon.
“Mmmh, are you trying to seduce me, Doctor Forger?” She murmurs to his ear, her voice is low and sultry. Pecking his jaw lazily, she then presses her forehead on her husband’s shoulder and sighs in contentment, her fingers toying with the collar of his blue T-shirt.
“Well, I can seduce my beautiful and amazing wife any time I want to, can’t I, Missus Forger?”
She blushes and buries her face into the crook of his neck. Loid finds it adorable that one moment Yor can be so bold and a blushing mess the next when he compliments her. He lets out a chuckle, his hand gently rubbing on her clothed hip as he holds her.
“You’re such a smooth talker,” she says, lifting her head to look at him and playfully pouting. “Sometimes, I can’t help but wonder if that’s just the way you are with everyone or it’s one of those habits you picked up from spy school.”
“I’m saving all the smooth talks for you, my love,” Loid leans in to peck her pouting lips, causing the blush on her face turn a darker shade of crimson. “Only for you.”
Yor smiles and hums in return, before settling back into his embrace, resuming her previous position and making herself comfortable as she rests her head against his chest. His heart beats steadily, and she can feel the soft thumping under her cheek, prompting her to close her eyes. The warmth radiating from his body has become her safe haven, making her feel protected from any possible dangers (even though she is more than capable of defending the both of them shall the occasion take place), and those arms of his have been chasing her nightmares away. From the beginning of their eventual romance, Loid has been spoiling her rotten with overt gestures of affection, which is something she used to consider as a luxury. He showers her with gifts, sometimes kisses, and he always manages to find an excuse to hold her hand or to touch her in the comfort of their home. He has been nothing but a caring husband to her, and she couldn’t have been more grateful.
Unknown to Yor, Loid, too, is thinking the same thing. The past few days they have been spending away from home for their honeymoon, he has been reflecting back on his life. He was robbed of his childhood because of the war. Everything he held so dear were taken away from him. He knew what pain feels like, he has experienced it before. He used to have to endure it all alone; the pain, the joy, the sadness, and everything in between that’s close to resembling human emotions. Now he doesn’t have to. He has a family whom he comes back to. A family who has been nothing but kind and supportive in helping him fight his demons. And he is willing to do it all again, to endure the pain and the suffering if it means that he will end up being with his family. His heart swells at that thought, and he moves to press a kiss on his wife’s head.
“I’m glad I married you, Yor,” he says, and he feels her body stiffen for a second and eventually relax against him. He combs through her ebony hair, attempting to soothe her and give her reassurance. Having been the one giving love most of her life, she is still getting used to receiving love. They’re not that different, after all.
He wants to show her that he means every word, every gesture, and every touch. Yor deserves that much. She is his safe haven, his source of comfort, someone whose arms can provide him and their daughter Anya a sense of security. She is his world, someone he has vowed to protect and cherish, and he dares not to tempt Fate by taking everything for granted.
“Me too,” comes her soft reply. Yor reaches for his hand, fingertips drawing invisible patterns on his palm, before bringing it up and kisses his pulse, like he did hers moments ago. “I’m glad you’re the person I married, Loid.”
Blue eyes fluttering close, Loid smiles to himself, embracing the serenity. In her presence he feels at peace, loved, and safe. Finally, he allows himself to accept this quiet life.
Maybe this is what they mean by all’s well that ends well. Loid and Yor, they both have gone through a lot to get there. It’s been a long journey for them, but the ups and downs, the rain and sunshine, and everything in between—in the end, they are worth it.