Author's Note: Thanks for staying with this story! It ended up much longer than I expected, but I liked how it turned out. Hope you like it, too!
Chapter 3: It wasn't a script
"Yor."
No response.
"Yor, look at me."
With no small amount of effort, Yor raised her head and met his eyes.
"Intimacy is something that you learn by doing. It's something you create together with someone. Sure, there might general categories of intimacy, but each kind and instance of intimacy is created anew each time you're with your partner." He searched for an analogy. "It's like cooking. While a recipe or a dish might fall into a certain category, it's never cooked quite the same way every time..." Loid trailed off. It wasn't the best analogy. Yor didn't know cooking very well. Then something else occurred to him. "It's like fighting," he said suddenly. Yor perked up, fully lifting her head off of her knees and gazing at him in surprise, her expression alert. Loid knew he had her full attention now.
"You know there's many different forms of fighting."
Yor nodded.
"But whenever you fight someone, it's never the same thing twice. You may have a set of moves you've learned or reflexes you've developed, but it's a new experience every time."
"It is," Yor agreed, picturing some of her previous fights. Sure, she had learned various styles of fighting, but he was right, it really was a unique experience every time.
"And sometimes you improvise," Loid continued. "Depending on the situation. Or if new factors come into play."
"That's true, too." Yor paused. "So intimacy is like fighting?" she asked, puzzled.
"Only in that there's no set way to be intimate. There are so many different kinds of intimacy precisely because there are so many different kinds of people. And even if it's the same two people every time, they won't be intimate in exactly the same way every time. That's the fun of it, actually. You get to explore. You get to learn with your partner. You get to have fun with it. It's a spontaneous, creative process, not a script."
Loid froze. Something was dawning on him. It was a spontaneous, creative process. IT WASN'T A SCRIPT. For so long, he had stuck to a script when it came to women, to targets. This was how you introduced yourself. How you charmed them. How you seduced them. How you leave them. Naturally, he had to improvise at times. Or tweak the script to fit the target. But it was still a script. A memorized play. A rehearsed act. A weary and tiresome charade.
And now it wasn't. And what was he left with? A family that was no longer fake. A wife that was no longer pretend. A life that was not just for show. An identity that was no longer just for the mission.
And feelings that were no longer stuffed into a corner, crying to be heard, to be felt, to be expressed.
And how he wanted to express them. How he wanted tell her everything, but not just with words. With his hands. With his gestures. With his whole—
How did Yor end up in his arms?
Loid blinked down at the woman who was lifting his arms and then ducking her head underneath them, burrowing into his chest.
"So...so this is okay? This is intimacy?"
Loid couldn't speak for a moment. Did she really just...? His mind flashed back to their first date, them running in an alleyway, escaping from his "delusional patients". She had asked him to marry her. He had a plan all set, ready to be executed when the timing was right. The ring. The proposal. The grand romantic gestures. Not on their first date of course. But soon. The deadline was approaching after all. But she had gone on ahead of him and asked first. And now she was taking initiative again.
"Yes..." he breathed, staring down at her face, just inches from his. He never noticed before, but her eyes were so warm. Maybe it was their scarlet hue, the cherry brandy color proving to be a heady tonic when they were this close. They were also perfectly framed by her hair, the bangs and tresses forming a soft, noirette outline of her face, like the timid touch of night dipping gently to the red warmth of the earth. He found himself leaning in. For a closer look, of course. "Yor, may I...?"
"Yes, Loid?"
He shook himself. This was not what they set out to do. He cleared his throat. "May I take my turn seeing your scars?"
"Oh. Yes, I...I suppose I took too long with my turn."
"No, no, not at all. I only wanted us to continue with this. This is a form of intimacy, too."
"It is?"
Loid nodded. "Very intimate." In more ways than one, he thought.
"All right. Where would you like to start?"
Loid trailed a thumb across her collarbone and then inched it down a few notches. "Here. This one."
Yor's face heated. She was afraid he would ask about this one. It was such a large scar, and in such an intimate area.
Loid noticed her reluctance and removed his thumb from her sternum. "Only if you're comfortable with it. You can always say 'Not there' and I won't ask. I won't touch, either."
Yor remained silent for a moment. It was too much for her. "Not there," she finally whispered.
"All right," Loid said, hugging her side. "Do you want to stop for today?"
"Mm-hmm..." Yor said, nodding.
"Okay." He kissed her hair and then let her lie down. "You go on to sleep. I'll be back."
When Loid returned, he found Yor still awake.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
Yor shook her head. Then: "It was on the cruise ship."
"What?"
"The scar on my chest. The one I didn't want you to touch. It happened on the cruise ship."
Loid stood there, stunned.
"T-The one where you were working?"
"Yes."
Loid was immediately upon her. "What happened?"
"I was...fighting someone."
"The people you were trying to wine and dine?"
"No. I was protecting them from someone else."
"And that someone else...they gave you this wound?"
Yor nodded. She didn't want to go into detail about who she was fighting or how many. It might be too much for Loid to take in.
Loid sat back. Here he thought that Yor was just busy working as a representative of Berlint. While the cruise hadn't been all fun and games for him, either, now he saw the memory in a different light.
"Come here," he said, slipping in beside her. Yor wiggled into his open arms.
"It's so close to your heart," he said, almost inaudible. "To think if it had cut just a little deeper..." Loid shook his head. He didn't want to think about the consequences of that possibility. "I wish I could have been there for you," he said finally, shaking away the horrific visions dancing in his mind's eye. "To help you."
Yor gave a small laugh. "I wouldn't want to ruin your vacation."
"You're important than a vacation," he said firmly.
Yor was silent, but she gave his chest a little squeeze.
"We missed you," Loid said, pulling her in closer. "I missed you."
"I missed you and Anya, too. At least we had that fun day on the island."
"Yes, that we did," Loid admitted. He inhaled sharply. "Now I can see why you fell asleep that day."
"I...I fell asleep?"
Loid chuckled. "Yes. I didn't know your room number on the ship so..."
"So that's why I woke up in your cabin."
Loid nodded. "Precisely."
"We can take more vacations like that in the future."
"Yes, and I am going to enjoy them to their fullest effect."
They lied there for a long moment, Loid caressing Yor's back. He felt her fidgeting.
"Too much?" he asked, pausing.
"My foot's falling asleep," Yor admitted sheepishly.
"Here, let's see what we can do to get you more comfortable."
They shifted around in bed but Yor had trouble moving the leg that was asleep.
"Let me help you." With a swift motion, Loid hoisted her leg gently and placed it on its side. Then his hand froze. He had touched her bottom only briefly when he was helping her, but the feel of it was unmistakable.
"Yor."
She turned to look at him, startled by the fierce, hard tone of voice.
"This," he said, tapping on her bottom. "This is a gunshot wound."
Yor blanched. It was in such a private place that she didn't think Loid would ever find it. Yet find it he did. Now what was she going to do?
But they promised to be open with each other. They didn't have to tell each other everything right now, but it was still supposed to be a safe space. Right?
Yor stuttered a non-response.
"Yor," Loid repeated, pinning her to the bed. "Who shot you?"
Yor could not speak. She was too scared. Not so much of Loid, but of what he would think of her. Would he now think her incompetent? That she couldn't even succeed as an assassin if one of her targets had managed to shoot her?
Loid, however, misinterpreted the fear in her eyes and eased off of her. He sat up, but the cold, unflinching look was still in his eyes. Someone. Had. Shot. His. Wife. And he was out for blood.
"He..." Yor began. She swallowed hard. "He's not alive anymore. I took care of it."
She was shocked at what happened next. Something inside Loid seemed to crumble because he gathered her up in his arms and rocked her back and forth. "Someone shot you," he said, almost more to himself than to her. "And I wasn't there to stop it. I wasn't there to help you."
"You...you didn't know."
Loid paused suddenly, then: "When was this?"
"Oh. That." Yor laughed uncomfortably. "It's a funny story. You see..." After she relayed the events of their first date, the little details, the oddities, the missing link, clicked for Loid. So that's why she didn't want to sit down!
"Loid?"
"Yes, Yor?"
"I like this," she said, burrowing into his chest again. "I can hear your heart beat."
She was terribly close to his heart.
She was terribly close...to his heart.
And somehow, the mere nearness...
Began to heal scars he never knew he had.