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Yor hummed softly to herself as she half carried Loid's weight. Poor thing, she thought, and scolded herself for coming to the party so late. Yuri had told her about the get together but she hadn’t expected to be kept so long at work.
She didn’t even get a real chance to raise her tolerance! She'd gravitated toward alcohol like a clutch once again and probably made Loid feel embarrassed to call her his wife. Why was it so hard for her to be normal?
Yor sighed heavily into the dark night. Thankfully Loid was too out of it to notice her despondent expression.
She resolved to make it up to him tomorrow. Yor would get up early and make breakfast and start on the house chores before taking Anya out for the day to run some errands. Loid deserved a break, some time to himself to relax, especially after dealing with Yuri and his coworkers on his own.
Loid had been dealing with a lot lately. Between long hours at work and helping Anya with her studies it was a wonder he was able to keep up with his side of the household duties. They were both off tomorrow so Yor could give him this.
Maybe… maybe she could explain to him what she'd been trying to do—raising her tolerance with physical affection. Would Loid think she was weird? Would he look at her differently?
No, no, Loid wasn’t like that. He'd never talked down to her, never belittled her if she was slow on the uptake, and always made sure she was comfortable with anything they were doing.
Perhaps he'd be open to practicing together.
The thought made her blush down to her toes and lower her face toward the inside of Loid's arm to hide.
They had some experience holding hands. His fingers leaving a tingle wherever they trailed along her. She remembered the feel of his warm body against her and the evergreen citrus smell hugging her, privately wishing she could bottle up the scent and keep it with her forever. Although straight from the source would be her preference if it was an option.
Yor would tiptoe around what she wanted. She didn’t want to put Loid on the spot and make him uncomfortable. They could go at his pace, even if what she coveted more than anything was a kiss—
Stop.
She held back a squeak. She definitely could not be thinking like that right now! It was one thing to practice some hand holding or cuddling on the couch while watching a movie—but to suggest that. It nearly made her fling Loid off from the obscenity.
Yor shook her head hastily, vanishing the thought from her head into the dark vastness and hopefully the temptation stayed far, far away.
The force of her action jostled Loid's arm, unbalancing them both, and before she knew it he was tripping over his feet and falling below.
“Loid!” Her assassin reflexes kicked in, hands swooping in to slide under his back and behind his knees. “I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to make you lose your balance and fall! Oh dear, I nearly got you badly hurt and your legs could've been broken in fifteen different places. Please forgive my—”
She stopped abruptly. Blinking, she peered down at his peaceful expression, his eyes closed with nothing but small puffs of his breathing to be heard.
Oh, she realized quietly, he fell asleep.
Yor felt herself relax and a small smile made its way across her face.
Selfishly, she took a moment to stand still and study his sleeping profile, committing how he looked to memory. She couldn't help but appreciate how handsome he was, although that was no different than any other day, but it was a noticeable contrast how the lines on his face smoothed out. It made him look younger, more carefree. How he should look.
Guilt ate at her. More proof Loid was under too much stress and she needed to step up.
Normally she'd worry holding him like this would look too vulgar and give the wrong impression but Loid was out like a light. He wouldn't notice being held in a bridal carry the rest of the way home. It was late enough as well that no one else would see.
Yor continued walking. Her humming changed to the tune of an old children's lullaby. She vaguely remembered doing it once for Loid when, for some reason, he'd been sleeping in her lap. The details were fuzzy.
Loid must like the song because his head tilted against her shoulder, seeking the source, until he fit snugly into the crook of her neck.
Eep!
She should be grateful the high collar of her coat prevented his warm breath from caressing her throat, leaving distracting goosebumps and making her a stuttery mess. Instead, she mentally went through her wardrobe to figure out if she had another coat that wasn't so constricting. This pink coat was old, she reasoned to herself, she needed a new one. Because staying warm was important! Certainly not for any other reasons.
His weight was comforting, solid and firm, like a reminder that he was real and with her. Sometimes her life felt surreal. Not the assassin part, being Thorn Princess was over half her life, and she couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
No, being Yor Forger was what felt surreal. A wife and a mother. An experience more rewarding than any of her past jobs. Who else could say they had a loving family to come home to everyday and mean it?
She loved her daughter dearly. Anya was a gift she never thought she'd ever be given. Challenging on some days but Yor wasn't one to turn tail when things got messy. And infinitely worth it with Anya's perfect hugs and kisses.
Loving her husband on the other hand was a quandary she hadn’t prepared for in her wildest dreams. Her fake husband who didn’t love her back. But that was okay, she didn’t need him to reciprocate, because being in his presence far exceeded her happiness levels compared to when she wasn't.
Although she'd be lying to herself if she said it wasn't a little bit lonely.
Her grip on Loid tightened, fingers digging almost painfully, but she reigned herself in at the last second. An exhausted Loid let out an unbothered snore, unaware.
Yor hurried her pace. As much as she enjoyed savoring Loid in her arms she was sure he'd prefer to sleep in his bed.
Becky let out a loud, horrified gasp when they walked through the front door. “What happened to my perfect Mister Loid!!!”
“Mr. Forger,” Martha reminded the little girl through a sigh. She watched Yor easily carry in her husband with raised eyebrows. “Do you need any assistance, Mrs. Forger?”
An embarrassed chuckle escaped Yor's lips. “No, but thank you.” She nudged the door shut with her foot. “Pardon my rudeness but I should get Loid here to his—our bed!”
“Is Papa okay?” Anya asked curiously, eyeing them. Yor spied the small scrunch of her nose betraying her worry.
“He's alright,” Yor promised, lowering her voice to not wake him up. “You father's just been overworking himself lately and the party tonight made him use whatever strength he had left.”
Anya stared at her for a split second, as if assessing the truth of her mother's words, before nodding. “Papa has been working too hard.”
“He has.”
“We should get him to the hospital! Martha! You have to call in our chefs and have them make everything! I can’t let my Loid whither away into nothingness!” Becky cried out dramatically.
“That's overkill, my lady.”
“Martha!”
Martha remained the picture of calm. “Mrs. Forger, please allow the girls to finish up their playing from before you arrived. I can get Ms. Anya ready for bed so you don't have to worry.”
Yor paused, caught off guard by the offer. “I don't want to trouble you, it's alright, really. I'll get Loid to bed and come see you two out.”
Martha looked dubious. “Forgive my presumption, but I believe Mr. Forger isn’t alone in needing some rest. I’ve already fed the girls dinner and I’m no stranger to a bed routine. I can shepard Ms. Anya to bed and see Ms Becky and I out the door.”
Martha’s kindness was thoughtful and deeply appreciated but that would leave Yor in a conundrum—staying in Loid’s room! Yor had to keep up appearances, the facade that she and Loid were in a happy marriage, and that meant sleeping in the same bed.
She gulped. She had to come up with something, to insist she was alright, despite how accurate Martha’s assessment was. Yor could take a break another time, when Loid didn’t feel like collapsing into her arms.
“I—”
“Please, Mama,” Anya pleaded, green eyes big and imploring, chipping away at Yor’s defenses and flimsy excuses. “Anya and Becky were about to use super cool fashion against the baddest guys.”
Yor was acutely aware Loid was still hanging on in her arms, sleeping soundly but surely with a crick in his neck beginning to form from being in this position for an extended amount of time. She glanced from her daughter’s begging look to Martha’s knowing one—which filled her with a hot flood of embarrassment.
“Alright,” Yor conceded. She shot Martha a grateful look. “Thank you so much. We owe you one.”
The other woman waved off her thanks. “Think nothing of it. I know how much stress can damage a relationship.” Her eyes softened in the corners. “It doesn’t cost anything for me to help ease some of your burden tonight.”
She owed Martha a fruit basket. Maybe two.
“Behave for Martha and remember to keep your voice low for your father,” Yor told Anya before turning into the hall.
She hesitated as she reached Loid’s door. She’d never been inside besides a quick peek or two by chance. And now she was potentially spending the night. In bed. With him.
But Martha was watching her so she, as casually as she could, twisted the knob and entered, pushing the door shut with a click that seemed to echo like a gunshot. Cut off from the outside world with only the two of them for company.
Yor exhaled but made her way to his bed and gently deposited Loid on it. He didn’t seem to want to leave her at first, his fingers unconsciously gripping her coat, which made her smile. He let go easily though when she prompted without further issue. She then helped him out of his coat and shoes, marveling out how deep in sleep he was that he didn’t so much as twinge. Good thing she had practice doing this with Anya when she’d fall asleep at random.
She didn’t dare try to strip him beyond that. At least he was in a sweater and not a suit.
Yor didn’t know what to do with herself after tucking him in. She could hear the low murmuring of the others down the hall telling her she couldn’t sneak out into her room without being caught.
Kicking off her heels and folding her coat next to his made her feel bare under the circumstances. Yor tried to occupy herself by pacing along the small confines of Loid’s room but didn’t want to risk waking him up.
Loid’s room didn’t offer anything exciting. It was plain and kept tidy, to Yor’s disappointment. She wasn’t looking to snoop but some insight would be welcomed. What were Loid interests? There was a small stack of Spy Wars novels on the corner of the desk which was interesting—she could see where Anya got her obsession for Bondman came from. Other than that his room was awfully bare besides a chair and lamp in the corner.
She pouted. Her room wasn’t filthy but it sure was messier than Loid’s.
Mentally noting to clean hers another day, Yor hesitantly sat at the end of the bed, as far away as she could from Loid. The smart choice would be the chair but Yor was getting tired herself and the seat looked uncomfortable to fall asleep in.
Not that she planned to sleep here—no of course not! Sometimes she had phantom pains from the bullet to her butt months ago and she’d rather avoid that when she could.
And she had a long day. A long week. A long month. The TV hijacking, both her jobs, keeping up on her duties in the Forger household, the party tonight—
Could she be blamed for wanting to sit down comfortably for a minute?
If she ended up laying down next to Loid then it would only be for a moment, until she gathered her strength. And if her eyes slid shut then that was okay, just until she heard Anya’s door shut and the front door open, letting her know it was safe to go to her room.
Except she never heard those things.
Loid’s bed is so soft, her brain cobbled together the thought, teetering on the edge of succumbing to sleep. Would he let me sleep here again if I asked nicely?
Something was tickling her nose. Her face scrunched up, eyes remaining closed, and buried her face back in the soft pillow in front of her.
However her pillow wasn’t completely soft. It was ticklish. And it stopped her from going back to sleep because she was on the verge of sneezing.
Very reluctantly, she opened her eyes slowly, her brain needing a second or two to process what she was looking at.
It became clear to her she was still dreaming or some kind of coma because there was no conceivable way she was laying in bed spooning Loid. A beat passed and her dream-slash-coma didn’t change and, oh, everything felt real. The blanket over her, their legs slotted perfectly together, her arms hugging around his chest in a shamefully possessive manner.
Her chest rose and dropped at alarming degrees. Panic shot through her and when she tried to untangle herself from him, a pair of strong arms stopped her.
“Go back to sleep,” Loid mumbled sleepily. She couldn’t see his expression but from the sound of it she bet he hadn’t even opened his eyes—she had to leave before he saw what position they were in.
“Loid,” she hissed quietly, trying to escape and failing spectacularly. “I need to go. You don’t realize—”
“We can panic ‘bout it later, mkay?” Loid released a hum, snuggling deeper into his pillow and curling their fingers around each other’s against his chest. “Sleep now. Freak out later.”
“I…”
“Shhh.”
Left with no choice but to comply, she hesitantly settled back in bed. The sun hadn’t begun waking yet either. The house was quiet. Loid was real and warm and she couldn’t help but inhale from the back of his neck, couldn’t help immediately noticing the trail of goosebumps on his skin.
Assured that they’d panic about this at a proper time later, she closed her eyes once more.