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1.
“I just thought you were very pretty.”
From their very first meeting, it immediately struck her: both his words, and the way he delivered them. So effortless, so smooth, as if he weren’t saying something that a whole bottle of wine couldn’t get past her lips half as easily.
Later, it became apparent that he could just do that. Weave words together into something to use, instead of struggling to find the right ones like her. When they went for the interview with Eden, he instructed herself and Anya on what to say like they were putting down pieces to a jigsaw puzzle. It was one of his many astonishing skills that she could only watch him utilize in awe. It definitely made sense in terms of his job; he could navigate his way through almost any conversation with anyone.
(Almost. Yor found it cute how Anya was always able to leave him sputtering and at a loss for words.)
2.
“These pants would look great on you,” Loid said casually. In stark contrast, Yor stared at his hand that casually gestured towards the mannequin with wide eyes, as if he were making an improper gesture.
“Uh—um,” she sputtered, already feeling the warmth in her face. She hated how easily she reddened. It made her feel juvenile next to all the grace and maturity that Loid presented. How easily he could give a compliment that she still had difficulty accepting all these months later! “Thank you,” she finally managed, meek. Her eyes nervously flitted over his form, looking for something to reciprocate with. That was the right thing to do, wasn’t it? But wouldn’t it seem halfhearted? And besides, it was difficult—not because she couldn’t find anything to compliment, but for the exact opposite reason. He was just too… perfect. Clothes impeccable, hair combed, smile gilded. What did she compliment?
His sweater, she decided with finality and a determined nod. A safe option. You look nice in that sweater, Loid. No. That sweater looks nice today. Your sweater’s color really suits you. Your sweater…
Yor opened her mouth just as he moved on to another section of the store. She slumped and groaned.
How did he make it look so easy?
3.
“You have a lovely voice.”
The only thing that kept Yor from shooting straight to her feet with a dagger in hand was the fact that Anya lay sleeping, her downy hair still threaded through Yor’s fingers. Then the voice—and words—registered. She turned, heart hammering, and saw Loid in the doorway with the light of the hallway backlighting a halo around him. His whisper hung in the air between them, silent and still as a lake.
She scrambled to collect her thoughts. “H-how long have you been standing there?”
“Just a few minutes.”
Yor would be startled that she hadn’t noticed him, but then she looked back down at Anya, who had a little trail of drool already down her chin. It was no wonder. “Oh. Um, thank you, but it’s nothing really special,” she murmured, getting to her feet. “The most I can do is hum a lullaby.”
She turned to him. His eyes were dark, features shadowed and inscrutable from the dim of the room. Enough seconds ticked by that she began to think he didn’t know what to say.
That was a silly notion, though. He always knew what to say.
After a few long moments, he spoke. “Your lullaby voice is lovely.”
She warmed from the inside out. Loid was liberal with his compliments, but for some reason, this one seized her with a sudden urge to start humming. Instead, she settled for a gracious “thank you”, to which he simply nodded once before quickly turning around. She followed him out of Anya’s room with a brimming smile.
She was getting better at taking his compliments.
4.
It wasn’t the first time their front as a couple had been pressed. The first time had been with Yuri, and they had come very far since then. Still, Yor flushed, trying not to give away the fact that their entire marriage was a lie at a company dinner party. There was hardly a worse place to blow their cover.
“So?” One of Loid’s well-meaning coworkers urged eagerly. “What did you like about him when you first met?”
Up until now, Yor had been using a secret formula for complimenting Loid, whether it was to his face or to anyone else: center it around Anya. If she focused on Anya and how that made Loid a patient man, a great communicator, a wonderful father, she wouldn’t have to think much about the other things which she was hardly doing a good job of stifling in her mind. Like how his eyes shone, or how his hair looked so soft, or how big his palms were and how would they feel around her own—?
Point being, that wouldn’t fly right now. The crowd of doctors, nurses, and other staff seemed to grow thicker around her as she gaped.
Loid, standing at her side, tried to sweep in with a good-natured laugh. “Come now, she already answered—”
“We all know what a great father you are,” a nurse impatiently cut off. “But surely he must have caught your eye somehow, right? I mean…” She waggled her brows. “Everyone knows Doctor Forger has numerous other great qualities!” A chorus of laughter sprung up, causing the Forger couple to cringe.
Thoroughly embarrassed, Yor peeked out the corner of her eye at Loid. His laughter looked strained, his features tight. Maybe she wouldn’t have been able to notice before, but after a year of living with him, it was as obvious as day. Especially because his genuine laughter was one of the things she cherished most.
“He has a nice smile.” The words were leaving her before she could stop them. “I liked how happy he looked. Especially with Anya.”
The laughter in the group dissipated. Vague mumbles could be heard (“Not exactly the type of quality I had in mind,” the same nurse muttered) before they finally dispersed, assuaged. Yor was so mortified that she didn’t notice Loid intently staring down at her. After a while, he cleared his throat.
“That was a good lie,” he whispered into her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “Convincingly told, too. Well done.”
It was the first compliment from him that she didn’t appreciate. She didn’t have the guts to tell him that her words were the complete truth.
5.
“Incredible.”
Yor wasn’t used to this—having an audience for the Thorn Princess. Even though it had already been a month since they’d found each other out, and two weeks since they’d started collaborating on select jobs, she still felt caught off guard every time she turned around and saw him there. He somehow blended in perfectly yet seemed at odds with the setting every single time. Her husband, the spy.
And then there was this—the sudden frankness, the words she’d seen him use as weapons being offered to her handle-first. She found it difficult to meet his eyes, so instead she began wiping her stilettos clean. “You took out just as many of them,” she replied. “You’re a good shot.”
It wasn’t what she really wanted to tell him. She wanted to say he was incredible too, that she loved running alongside him and watching him level a shot because she found the focused divot between his brows fetching. But, as always, the words got stuck in her throat.
“That doesn’t change the fact,” he said, getting up from the floor, “that you are incredible, Yor.” He took the stiletto from her hand and gently laid it aside before cupping her hands between his palms. “Incredible in everything you do.”
She fought to keep her composure and failed miserably. How did he make it feel like he was peeling every layer of her open just with a look? “Y-you’re a real smooth talker.”
He breathed out a laugh that ghosted across her mouth. “It’s part of the job description. But you should know that I’m simply telling you the truth.”
The last thing she thought before he kissed her was that, if it was that easy, she ought to try it out, too.
+1.
She isn’t quite sure what exactly compels her. It isn’t the first time she’s seeing Loid in a well fitting suit, or the first time she finds him handsome. Far from it. Maybe it’s because she’s comfortable enough with him at this point that her embarrassment is more of a rarity than the default. Maybe it’s the quiet anticipation and excitement for their date night. In any case, the words tumble out of her unhindered.
“That suit looks great,” she says warmly. “I love how you look in blue.”
His eyes widen and his hands freeze. He’d been fastening his cufflinks.
“O-oh,” he says, quickly turning back to the mirror. “Thank you.”
She watches him with fascination, his reaction beating out any shyness she might have felt. He rarely ever stutters. And—a smile grows on her face— his ears are red. Is it bad that she ‘s immensely pleased to have this effect on him? She slides up behind him, failing to bite down a smile at the way he deliberately shifts so she can’t see his face in the mirror.
“I also like when your hair is combed back. I can see your eyes clearly,” she continues experimentally, noting how his breath hitches. His fingers keep fumbling around the cufflink. Gleefully, she tacks on, “But you look handsome with your bangs down, too.”
The cufflink clatters to the floor and he finally whirls to face her. His face is glowing bright, mouth ajar like he’s trying to speak. She beams.
Eventually he sputters out, “What are you doing, Yor?”
“What do you mean?” She smoothly retrieves the cufflink from the floor and grasps his wrist, turning it over so she can fasten it for him. The pulse under his thumb beats quickly. “I’m just telling the truth. Besides, aren’t you used to hearing things like this?”
He levels her with a look she can’t quite figure out, eyes dark and intent on her own. “It’s different coming from you.”
Her heart beats and lifts in her chest like a hummingbird. Right as she opens her mouth to speak again, Loid quickly ducks his head and presses a kiss to her lips.
“Let’s get going,” he says, a faint urgency lining his words as he picks his suit jacket up. He puts his arm into the wrong hole before realizing his mistake and quickly shucking it off to wear it again. “We don’t want to miss our reservation.” Yor tracks his movements with a mixture of amazement and delight. This newfound power of words is something she finds she greatly enjoys.
For someone that’s such a smooth talker, Loid sure is shy when it comes to taking what he dishes out.
