Disclaimer: Spy x Family belongs to Tatsuya Endo.

Author's note: I kid you not... I have been obsessively writing for a good portion of the week, save for one day to rest my wrist. Will probably need to rest my wrist some more now that the story's done! Thank you for reading up till the end! Until next time :)

Chapter 5

Yor hasn't come back.

It's three days after New Year's and Twilight feels exhausted. Every day, he comes by and knocks on her door. Every day, he calls her phone. He's always sent to voicemail, and even Franky's starting to worry about Twilight's condition. He hasn't seen him look like this in all the times he's known the spy, and Franky offers his skills to try and locate the missing dark-haired woman.

But nothing.

He runs. He doesn't eat. He can't sleep.

And he waits.

When the holidays finished up, the first thing Twilight did was visit Yor's workplace and asked Luna about her whereabouts. Yet Luna doesn't know either ("That must be her other job," Luna tells him with a concerned expression, "but I thought she quit that already.") and promises to reach out if she hears anything from her.

It's like she's disappeared.

I think I love you.

Her voice and her words echo in his mind when he's alone, when he feels like giving up. Why does it feel like his heart was ripped from his chest?

This is why he shouldn't have gotten close in the first place; there's always a risk of losing someone important… someone precious. Like his father, and his mother, and his friends. At least, when he didn't have anyone else but himself, there was nothing else he could lose.

But Yor is different.

She understands what it meant to live in the war, to survive the war, and to feel lost after the war. Yor taught him that there is more to surviving; that having someone to share the simple pleasures of life—like having coffee together in the morning or enjoying (sometimes inedible) food after a long day of work—is something enjoyable; that having someone is better than being alone.

I don't want to be alone, Twilight grasps, eyes filling up. He presses the heels of his hands while he leans back on his couch.

Yor made him realize that being alone is rather lonesome, and Twilight soon became accustomed to her presence in his day-to-day routine.

Twilight likes the way her smile always reached her eyes whenever she talked about Yuri; he likes the way she's always looking to help others (whether it be chasing a man who took an elderly woman's purse, or offering to help her coworkers when they're in a pinch); he likes the way she looks so pleased when it's his turn to host their regular dinners; he likes how tender, and gentle, and kind-hearted she is.

He thinks… maybe he likes her more than just a friend. Sometimes, he thinks he even loves her, but it's been so long since he's loved anyone that he shoves the thought away. He doesn't know what that means, what that feels… nor what it entails.

There's a loud knock outside his door and it disrupts his thoughts. He isn't expecting anyone.

His footsteps are silent and he peers through the door viewer. He's not in any mood to entertain anyone, even if it's Franky. If it isn't Yor… he'd rather be alone.

But his heart drops in his stomach when he sees the person outside his apartment. Within a few seconds, Twilight has opened his door and engulfed the smaller woman in his arms. He feels her flinch and his heart is so relieved, and he feels like he can breathe again, and his eyes are dripping with tears, and he's shaking with so much emotion that it takes him a while to process that Yor is running her fingers through his blond hair, murmuring it's okay over and over again in his ear.

"It's okay," Yor murmurs. She can't say she isn't startled. She has been gone for a little over a week since the assignment. But the dark-haired woman is alarmed at Loid's reaction, though she feels quite thrilled to be hugged at the first moment she saw her… comrade.

"I looked everywhere for you," he breathes in the scent of her hair. He's never been this close to her, but he's always smelled the faint scent of her conditioner when he passes her a little too intimately. He doesn't let her go and simply enjoys the feeling of her familiar presence in his arms—so close to him finally.

"I-I can explain," she starts. He lets her go after a few more moments, dried tears at the corners of his eyes but Yor doesn't comment. She has her bag with her and simply hands him the clean, crumpled tissues she always carries. He's still in disbelief that she's standing in front of him, that Yor had to guide him to his couch. His table is a mess with papers haphazardly resting at the edge, and some are even resting on the floor, when Yor asks:

"Do you want some tea?"

Loid nods silently and looks around, speechlessly cleaning up after himself. He isn't even trying to hide his reports or the intel he's been keeping to look for her location. His heart is thudding too loudly in his chest, like it's going to burst, and he doesn't know what to say—what is this feeling? Is it really love? He's only known her for a few months—is that enough time to get to know someone? To fall in love?

Yor removes her red coat and cream-colored scarf. She moves around his kitchen like she always does, and she comes back just in time for Loid to put the last of his paperwork away.

"I quit my other job," Yor announces. "That's why I've been gone for a while." Her smile is guilty, and Loid wonders if she remembers what she told him when she called that night. "I'm sorry I didn't let you know until now."

He accepts the tea in her hands, notes the bandages wrapping her fingers. "It wasn't a normal job, was it?"

Yor presses her lips together and looks down on her hands. She shakes her head. If he finds out, Yor wonders, would we stop all of this? Who wants to be with someone who's murdered hundreds, if not thousands, of people?

"You don't have to tell me," Loid says softly, sensing her hesitation. He puts the tea down and slowly reaches out to cover her hands with his. "Only if you want to, okay?"

Suddenly, Yor's eyes well up and, this time, she's the one who's crying. Loid moves closer and lets her cry on his shoulder—just like the first time—and he doesn't say anything again.

"Why are you always so kind to me?" Yor weeps, sniffling and trying to stop her cries. He presses her closer against his chest. "This is why I fell in love with you in the first place," her sobs are muffled against his sweater, hiccups now mixing in with her wails.

It hurts to cry, but she can't help it. She thought she was going to die and never see Loid again; and then she thought he would forget about her when she came back but he looked everywhere for her; and then she thought he would be angry that she disappeared without saying anything but he's telling her that she doesn't have to explain anything unless she wants to.

She's so deeply in love with him that it hurt.

Loid presses his cheek on the top of her head, rubbing her arm up and down to help calm her down. She does, after a while, and he breathes slowly, deeply. He wonders if he should say it, too. His gut knows, but his mind is too afraid to say anything.

Instead, Loid pulls away a bit and cups her face, pressing his forehead against hers. His clear blue eyes are staring at hers, and he can feel her warm breath on his lips. "May I kiss you?"

Yor doesn't answer. Instead, she moves fast to capture his lips with hers, pushing her warm soft lips against his, arms wrapping around his shoulders. His stomach does a flip, and the pleasant warm feeling is spreading in his chest as he loosely wraps his arms around her once again, bringing her just a tad bit closer than before.

"You don't have to say it back," Yor whispers after they broke apart. Her red eyes watch him intently, earnest, honest. Her cheeks are red. She sniffles, her expression determined. "I can wait."

"That should be my line," Loid murmurs, leaning in to press another kiss on her mouth. "I missed you."

"Me too," Yor hums, shifting her position so that she can avoid disturbing the healing wound on her chest. She's still sniffling, overwhelmed with the happiness and peace and relief, and all the positive feelings she didn't feel like she deserved to have. Loid brings her hand to his lips, lightly brushing his lips on each wounded finger tenderly.

"Will you stay the night?" he asks. Even though she only lives about five minutes away on foot, he doesn't want to let her go. Not yet. Not now.

Not ever.

Yor doesn't hesitate. She only tries to get closer to him, pressing her face on the sweater he always wore. "I'd love to…"

"Perfect," he lets out a relieved sigh, leaning back on the couch and bringing Yor with him. He closes his eyes and feels Yor move in a more comfortable position, her arms loosely draping around his waist. "I'll make food for us in a minute."

The dark-haired woman hums in agreement, reveling in Loid's warmth. She hasn't felt this kind of peace before. It's different from the peace she felt before the war—before she became who she was today. This peace seems to accept her as she is, her past and her present, without judgement, without dread… it just is.

"Thank you," Yor says when Loid thought she had fallen asleep. Her eyes closed and there's a small, content smile on her lips. "Thank you for not giving up on me," Yor pauses, "for accepting me…" She takes another pause, another breath, "Thank you for everything, Loid."

Loid places a gentle kiss on the top of her head. "I'm incredibly grateful to you," he admits, watching her peaceful appearance with fondness, "because you taught me how to live again." He makes little circles with his thumb on her arm. "And I want to keep… living with you."

Yor feels her skin tingle, and her heart feels like it's going to erupt with so much love and happiness and joy and everything else between. She's overwhelmed with all the strange emotions she's feeling and all she can say is, "Me too."

But Loid knows how she feels; he can see the way her entire face brightens up; he can feel the tenderness in her delicate kisses. He knows that she's clumsy with how she expresses herself, but he's beginning to learn her intentions little by little.

Yor's stomach growls inelegantly, and she blushes, chagrined. "S-sorry," she apologizes.

Loid shakes his head with a chuckle. He doesn't want to let her go, but duty calls. He must make food for his hungry, blushing, pretty lady. "I'll get the food ready. You go rest." He places a last kiss on her forehead; all the stress and worry and anxiety from the past week suddenly left his body when he realizes that Yor is finally back, that Yor is here.

His Yor is home.

He doesn't shake the thought off this time; he figures he needs to start getting used to thoughts like that if he ever plans on saying I love you out loud to the woman resting on his couch.

Twilight knows he can't say it right now, but that doesn't mean he can't show it.

He means to say I love you when he makes their dinner, when he cleans up after, when he tucks her in his arms, when he kisses her forehead. He means to say I love you when he makes coffee in the morning, when he runs his fingers through her thick, long hair, when he traces the shape of her body with his fingertips.

He knows he can't say it right now… but he will.

One day.

.

.

Handler doesn't give him a hard time when he handed her his resignation letter a week and a half later.

"And I'll keep Loid Forger," Twilight says, placing the hat back on the top of his head. "I quite like this life."

Handler smiles, bittersweet. She stands up and walks around her desk, reaching out to offer her hand. Twilight takes it and firmly shakes the hand of his mentor, the one who trained him to be one of the best spies of their time. "It's time to enjoy what you worked hard for, Twilight. We are greatly indebted to your services, and this is the least we can do for you. Consider yourself under the protection program."

They share a final look, a final smile, and Twilight is letting go of her hand, grasping for his suitcase.

"If you ever need me," Handler says as he walks towards the door, "you know where to find me."

"And if you ever need me," Twilight says, glancing over his shoulder, "you know where to find me." Then he adds as a second thought, "But I will be unable to risk my life like before. Just so you know."

Handler nods and Twilight leaves the room, shutting the door behind him.

He doesn't look back.

.

.

"And that's how Mama and Papa fell in love!" exclaims Anya, smile wide as she spreads her arm in a grandiose manner. Bond barks loudly and wags his tail excitedly behind him.

"Did they ever find out about each other's past, you ask?" Anya whispers ominously, face moving closer to Bond. She looks around them, making sure that the coast is clear. Bond stops moving his tail and presses his ears down, as if trying to keep quiet. "Of course, they did!"

"When they decided to move in together, they brought all of their stuff with them and they accidentally found out about it!" she explains excitedly. Though it was more like Loid almost stepping on a rogue stiletto weapon when Yor accidentally dropped her box, and Yor having to explain why she had that in the first place—which prompted Loid to explain why he also had weapons in one of the boxes he brought.

At that time, Yor had been labeled an ex-assassin for nearly half a year already, but she just wanted to keep her attire and weapons since it was hers anyway. Plus, she was originally planning to store them away (from Loid and the public eye)! She was nervous to discuss her past, but she had been thinking of explaining it… eventually. She just didn't think it would be so soon.

On the other hand, Loid wasn't expecting any of that. Though now that she explained her past, he figured it would only be fair to explain his. However, he was nervous, too… Since, technically, Loid Forger wasn't his identity, nor was Twilight. Though he was more Loid Forger than he was Twilight nowadays because he resigned from his spy position. And he explained the whole fiasco being under the protection program (that he was legally Loid Forger now).

"Do you hate me?" Loid had asked quietly when she let the information sink in. They were sitting on the couch that Loid brought from his old apartment.

The question made Yor smile a little, and she shook her head. She was more relieved that he didn't want to leave even after he found out what she used to do. "You aren't afraid of an assassin like me?"

"Ex-assassin," he corrected Yor, quite reassured by her attempt to humor him. "You're not angry that this isn't my real identity?"

Yor was silent, and it made Loid fidget, but he realized later that Yor was just trying to articulate her thoughts carefully. "Twilight," his heart skipped a beat when she said his old name, "Loid Forger," she paused again, and then stared at him with an unwavering emotion on her expression, "No, whoever you decide to be, I'll always love you. Because you're you."

Loid pulled her into a deep embrace, burying his face on the top of her head. His heart was warm and filled to the brim with so much love for the dark-haired woman in his arms.

He finally said it.

"I love you," he whispered. He could feel her smile on his shoulder, and she tightened her arms around him.

"I love you more," she whispered back.

.

.

"Anya!" Loid calls, surprising Anya and Bond. He watches the two curiously. Since they adopted Bond, Anya has been whispering a lot to the new addition to their family. And, weirdly enough, it's like Bond understands. "It's time for dinner."

"I have the coolest parents ever," Anya concludes to Bond with a proud look. Then she turns to her dad.

"But where's Mama?" Anya asks, jumping to her feet and heading to the dining room. She likes it better when Papa makes the food… but she always appreciates Mama's efforts. (But Mama is cooler when she's teaching Anya about self-defense techniques!)

"She's just finishing her bath," Loid says, placing the dinner on the table. It's steak and vegetables tonight, and Mama's leftover stew as the side dish. Loid pours some water into her glass.

"But I want juice," Anya pouts as she slides in her seat.

"You know juice is only in the morning."

"But—"

"Anya," Yor warns gently from the entrance of the dining room. She has her red sweater on and her long, dark-hair is down. "Listen to Papa. The juice has too much sugar and you need to sleep early tonight."

Anya continues to pout, but when Yor reaches over to stroke her cheek briefly, the young girl lets her expression relax. "Okay, Mama."

"I'm sorry," Yor suddenly realizes as they settle in their seats, "you weren't waiting long, were you?"

Loid shakes his head, watching his wife furrow her eyebrows. "I just finished setting up when you walked in." He smiles at his family, gesturing to their meal. "Shall we?"

"Thank you for the meal!" they chorused together.

So this is peace, Loid thinks that night, when his wife snuggles up to his side and kisses him on the cheek.

This is what it feels like, Yor thinks with a soft sigh, reflecting on today and how her life has been up to this point.

"I love you," her husband says softly, the low timbre of his voice engulfing her senses, just for a moment.

"I love you more," Yor whispers.

They smile at each other before falling asleep in each other's arms, finally living in the peace they always longed for.

Finally unbroken.