A/N:
Hello, Dear Readers!
Thanks for your patience as I got out chapter 7. After I completed chapter 6, I had all these plans to catch up on other fanfiction writing projects and reading. But then life (God) had other plans and I found myself on a "lenten journey" working on Important Life Things that needed addressing. It wasn't always fun. But it was good, and I'm better for it. We're all in process, yeah?
Meanwhile, I read some of Endo Sensei's earlier manga in the collection "4 Lives Remain: Tatsuya Endo Before Spy x Family", a collection of his first 4 one-shots from 2000-2004. I also read "Tista", his first manga series about a girl who's an assassin for a Catholic religious organization in NYC. It gets pretty dark quick and it's clear it's a first series, but it has a redemptive ending.
This chapter is the most Twiyor I'll ever get (heh) but Twiyor fans, I hope you enjoy! There is some cute Forger Family fluff toward the end. All is well. Or is it? Yor has her own secret to confess. As he falls deeper into being authentically known by his family, what will Leo/Loid/Twilight decide?
Content warning: This chapter is rated T+ (16-plus) for scenes of intimacy, and that content is best suited for readers who are 16+. Again, younger readers, please honor what your parents/guardians say...because I know they'd want you to. :)
Likewise, if you are sensitive to this type of content for any reason and/or wish to skip it, I'll block off those parts with divider lines. I'll include a summary in the end notes.
And to all a belated Happy Easter (if you celebrate it) otherwise, Happy Spring!
~Enjoy!
"love is more thicker than forget...
it is most mad and moonly
and less it shall unbe
than all the sea which only
is deeper than the sea
love is less always than to win
less never than alive
less bigger than the least begin
less littler than forgive
it is most sane and sunly
and more it cannot die
than all the sky which only
is higher than the sky
e.e. Cummings, "[love is more thicker than forget]" from Complete Poems 1904-1962, edited by George Firmage
….
Leo knelt by the tub to test the bathwater, replenishing it with hot water plopping from the tap, mist filling the bathroom. It occurred to him water has a feel and a sound, and also a scent. A scent of cleanness, and renewal.
Life. In storm clouds. Dew. Steam. Tears, and the salty ocean. Leo cut the water with his hand, leaving it under the running tap.
He shut his eyes and saw the ocean again.
She sat beside him at the shoreline, their toes squishing in the drenched sand as the waves passed over their feet, and a saltwater-scented breeze blew through their hair. Claudia, with a laugh, elbowed him and said, "Look at the sky," as the silver-clear ocean took on the gold of sunrise. She sneaked something into his hand—the quartz stone. He held it to the sky, and for the first time, they saw it sparkle together.
That picture flowed into a new picture of the sparkling sea in his mind's eye. This time, another woman stood in the gently pounding surf, smiling at him, holding the brim of her sun-hat, the wind teasing her long black hair, his blonde bangs, and their daughter's pink pigtails. For a moment, the morning sun flashed behind her. Her beauty took his breath away—Yor, with her bright smile and serene giggles, suddenly shone to him as a kindred, a new friend, as Claudia once was—then she was Yor again, inviting her family to wade in the water. Anya kicked off her shoes and pulled Loid along. He followed.
At that day's end at the resort island, when Yor collapsed in sleep upon his shoulder, Anya conking out too, it was an honor to bear them back to the ship.
Was that the first time he had a glimmer Yor could be more than his fake (now real) wife?
Leo opened his eyes and shut the tap. With an urge, he dug the quartz stone from his pocket and dipped it under the water. The bathwater quavered, but did the stone give a faint sparkle? Maybe catching the bathroom light...how did this stone survive as the ocean pounded other quartz into sand?
The warmth of the water on his arm reminded of his dream that afternoon. Held in that warmth, named by his true name, resonating about him. All he wanted was to soak, not just in the bath, but all over, dross lifting away, his true-named self shining through. Everywhere, if possible.
—To wash away all these lies and hurt, that I caused. Where do I even begin?
Some drops plipped from the spout, creating small ripples. A light knocking came at the door. Leo quickly slipped the stone into his pocket.
"Yor? It's open."
She hesitated in the doorway, fidgeting with her hair. "May I...join you?"
Leo rose. "Do you want to?"
Yor nodded, shutting the door behind her and leaning upon it. Their eyes met. Yor dropped hers.
Leo stepped toward her. "Yor. I'm sorry I lied—"
"Not now, Leo."
"Oh..." He stopped.
"Sorry. I didn't mean it that way, to cut you off, I—" She played with her fingers. "I don't like that you lied, but I figured you had some kind of reason."
"Yor, at least let me say I hate that I lied about us. I was afraid, but it doesn't make it okay."
Yor came closer and gingerly brushed his hand. "I lied too, remember?"
"Thank you." Leo took hers. "I-I won't press you, Yor."
"What?"
"To tell your secrets."
Leo and Yor stood there, eyes locked, hands held, puffs of steam floating around them, full of the clean scent of water.
Yor motioned toward the tub with her free hand. "You can, uh..."
"Oh, right." Leo grabbed his t-shirt hem and turned from her to undress.
Yor giggled. "It's not like I don't know what you look like."
"Take a peek then." Leo chuckled.
They laughed together, and for a moment, everything felt all right again, Yor sneaking a flirty glance at him, her gaze lingering as he finished undressing and stepped into the tub.
Leo playfully splashed her. "The water's great."
"I'm coming." Yor pulled off her capris, then stopped. "Don't look, okay?"
Leo obliged and shut his eyes.
There came the faint swishes of Yor undressing, the quiet plash as she entered the bath. Leo opened an eye. Yor stepped in, an arm crossed over her chest. Hiding her scar?
He scooted back, making room for her in the large white claw-foot tub. With a soft sigh, Yor leaned upon Leo, her dark hair swirling around her in the water, yet keeping part of it over her. Leo wrapped his arms around Yor. She rested in his hold. There was something novel, yet comfortable in this new kind of nakedness, vulnerable together, sharing a warm bath.
Yor took his hand. He wanted to ask her more about her scar. But it wasn't his secret to reveal—he'd promised not to press her. Instead Leo shut his eyes, laying his head on the tub's edge, so lulled by the warmth, the water's wavering, and their friendly stillness, he almost dozed off. In the tub.
The soft sound of weeping jolted him. Leo opened his eyes to find Yor crying upon his chest. Her grenade pin ring, on its chain, lightly dug into his skin.
"Love? What's wrong?" Leo laid a hand on her head.
Yor clutched his shoulder and let out a sob that almost would've sounded comical if her tears weren't so serious. She spoke upon him, her words muffled.
"I—I need to tell you. I've been thinking about it all day."
"I'm listening." Something tightened in Leo's gut, mixed with the alertness of his senses and a curious giddiness, his heartbeat quickening. Now. Whatever Yor said would confirm it.
—Is she like me?
Leo kept quiet, smoothing her head.
"The Lorelai..." Yor whispered. Her warm breath puffed upon him. "I...defended someone."
...
A few heartbeats passed. "The Lorelai? You did what?"
"I defended a woman and her baby...from some men." Yor lifted her head. "You know how I'm strong? S-Sometimes I end up protecting people. It just happens. For years now."
"Take a deep breath, no need to rush." Leo took some tendrils of her wet hair, combing his fingers through.
Yor breathed in and let out a sigh. She rested her head on his shoulder, the water softly sloshing with her movement. He finger-combed her hair. Yor smiled at that yet her smile faded.
"Like I said, during the City Hall trip, on the boat I ran into a woman with a little baby. Some men were after her. I subdued them with my strength."
"Subdued?" Leo's brows rose. "What happened?"
Yor swallowed. "She asked me to be her protector. Like a bodyguard, but for a day, until she could board another boat that would take them somewhere safe."
Leo said nothing. Were his suspicions about Yor being a secret bodyguard true?
"You're so quiet. You must be angry at me. Putting myself in danger like that."
"No...considering the circumstances, I might've done the same thing myself." Leo set his face into a calm expression, but found it hard to keep his mouth from crooking into a curious smile.
"I hope you were careful."
"Of course." Yor grew serious. "Actually, I guarded them for a day and a half—the woman, her baby and the man with her, he seemed like a friend, not the baby's father—I didn't ask questions, about him or why the men were after her."
"Why not?"
"I figured it wasn't my business," Yor whispered. "She needed my help. I trusted her."
Leo's eyes widened and narrowed in concentration a moment—Yor didn't catch the subtle change in his expression. He shut his eyes, to think. Trust is what matters in the underworld.
Did Yor know the woman had underworld ties, or did Yor know enough to know its ways? Who was that woman she protected—a gangster's wife or daughter? From a mafia family?
"Leo?"
"Just thinking again. But than man with her, did he help protect her?"
"He did. He was brave," Yor murmured. "There were too many people after them."
"I see, but—" Leo paused.
There were listening bugs and bombs on the boat, and suspicious characters who strangely disappeared. Did some of it have a connection to the mysterious woman Yor protected? Yor's carefully chosen words rang of truth.
He rammed a fist into the water. "Dammit, Yor. If I'd only known, I could've helped you."
Yor gave a startled cry, yet quickly calmed. She touched his face.
"Don't worry, Leo. I got through. And you helped, by watching Anya."
"I know..." He trailed off. Sure, he helped diffuse the bombs on the ship, but he couldn't tell Yor that. "...Anya was worried about you. She kept trying to find you."
"She did?" Something flickered in Yor's eyes.
He glanced down, his cheeks warming. "I was worried, too."
Why did he feel shy admitting aloud what he knew in his heart to be true? Because it meant he cared that much for Yor and Anya even at that early (fake) stage of their family?
Yor dropped her eyes. "I kept thinking about you both."
He held her tighter. "It must've been hard. How'd you feel about it?"
"Responsible," Yor said softly. "I had a job to do. Sometimes, confused." She broke into fresh tears. "And I was scared...I almost lost my life."
"Yor, no—" Leo gripped her.
"I survived." Yor smiled through her tears. "Because of you guys."
"What do you mean?"
"Look here." Yor moved away her hair and laid his fingers upon her chest scar. "I realized it just before I got this."
Leo trembled, touching the white line. "Yor. Tell me what happened, please. If you can."
"Hold on." Yor shut her eyes.
He waited, still touching her scar.
Yor opened her eyes and continued. "I-In my last fight (there was more than one) a man knocked me down. Hard. I didn't pass out, but I was weak and dizzy. He stood over me, about to kill me. For a moment I thought it was okay to go...I'd done my duty by Yuri. Then I remembered I still had to get your shirts from the cleaners. And return Anya's library books..."
"Yor—"
"I remembered you. You both reminded me why I was protecting that woman." Yor's voice grew low. "Not so we could have a quiet life...but a peaceful, joyful life." She gave a faint laugh. Her voice rose to a sudden pitch. "And if I had to get all bloody to protect that, so be it."
"But..."
"Then he slashed at me...and I got him."
"You 'got' him?"
"Like, you know..." Yor made an awkward poking motion. "I-I left him for dead."
Leo didn't answer, and shook his head as if to shake away his worries. With a sigh, he brushed his wet hair out of his face. Some water trickled into his eyes, and his sight was was blurry a moment. He blinked it away, and things were clear again.
"I had no idea, Yor."
"Leo. Look at me." Yor gently took his chin in her hand. "You're a good fighter. 'Concussive therapy' or wherever you learned it. But you're not the only protector in this family."
Leo met Yor's gaze."I'm sorry. For doubting you."
"There's nothing to be sorry for."
"Guess I felt a little shaken...did they get to safety?"
"I'm glad to say they did."
"Oh, Yor—" He hugged Yor with a laugh almost like crying. Glad she survived, and they survived tonight—somehow yet alive and sharing this intimacy together. So glad for the grace she showed a man like him. So glad they found each other.
—And you might really be like me?
Yor squirmed. "Ouch, that hurts."
"Sorry." Leo loosened his hold.
"You okay?" The water bobbed as Yor moved to sit across him, face to face in the tub.
"Just relieved." Leo took her hand. "And glad you're okay."
Yor squeezed their held hands under the water. "I knew you'd understand."
He gave a half-laugh. "Who said I wouldn't? In fact—"
"—Wait." Yor made a sheepish side-glance. "Anya saw me."
His jaw dropped. "Anya?"
"Saw me. In the plaza, fighting."
Leo stared, dumbfounded.
Yor waved a hand before her. "But it was okay, Anya covered for me."
"Anya did what?"
"Covered for me, right in the middle of things, if you can believe it. She clapped her hands, saying 'Yay, Circus Lady.' Then I threw in a few twists and flips, and the people believed it. I safely bound the man and no one suspected a thing. Isn't that good?" Yor laughed. "Why are you making such a weird face?"
"Anya saw you? But—" Leo slapped his forehead, flicking drops. "That explains it, that infuriating, confounding rascal." He grit his teeth.
"Explains what?"
"Anya's bizarre behavior. In the souvenir shop."
"Oh, no. We were right by there. No wonder."
"Indeed. She was doing all she could to keep me in the shop. She kept freaking out. And I kept freaking out because I thought she didn't think I was being a fun dad."
"Oh my." Yor stifled another laugh under her hand.
Leo stared. "It's not funny...maybe in retrospect."
"I'm still glad you didn't see me."
"That kid."
Yor cocked her head. "What happened?"
Leo explained his story, from Anya's fit over the skeleton key-chain down the to the absurd get-up Anya convinced him to try on, complete with sailor shirt, swim trunks, inner tube, squid slippers and a lobster-claw hat, and him holding a wooden sword in one hand and a squirt gun in the other.
"The perfect fun dad." He rolled his eyes.
"Wish I could've seen you." Yor laughed harder.
"It was atrocious. Not cool at all."
"You could've been part of our 'act'. Joined the fight with your sword and squirt gun, hmm?"
"Stop, please." Despite his protests, Leo smiled.
Yor motioned to him. "I like you better this way, anyway."
Leo patted his chest. "You mean like this?"
Yor blushed. "I-I meant your regular clothes..." She winked. "But I like you this way too...and the kind of dad you already are. You don't need to try so hard to be someone you're not."
"I suppose." Leo glanced down, self-conscious, suddenly too aware of their nakedness.
Yor gently thumbed the bullet hole scar on his right arm. "I'll be a little sorry to see this go. You're serious about getting that skin graft surgery done so soon?"
"Bad look for a psychiatrist," he half-joked. "You know why I need to."
"Yuri would panic, like tonight. He should never know."
"But you'll know. That's what matters." Leo met her eyes.
Yor's shone with her thanks. She patted her left hip. "I don't know if should get that surgery too. But I'm glad I told you about my scar...and this one." She absently touched the white line.
"What if you did see me fighting? Would you have been angry?"
Leo hesitated. How to answer? As Loid, or himself?
"I don't know. Maybe at first, but I probably would've found a discreet way to step in."
Yor smiled at that.
He studied their bodies, all the faint scars they were marked by. He remembered the thing he said to Anya after he mended her mangled Pengiuinman toy. He repeated it to Yor now.
"Scars...they're badges of honor, to a warrior. You were brave there, on the Lorelai."
Yor's lip trembled. For a moment she looked about to cry. Then she screwed her face into a grin.
"Oh, I'm so relieved you know." Yor dove upon him, crushing Leo into a hug, water splashing everywhere in its wake. Tiles. Floor. On them.
"Likewise—" Leo murmured, gripped in her earnest embrace. Arms slick and pinned, he returned her hug the best he could.
Yor cried and laughed, holding him. Maybe those were her tears on his shoulder, or just the water, or just the water dripping his bangs into his eyes, or tears again...they hugged in the bath, and it didn't seem ridiculous at all—the most natural thing in the world.
Surrounded by warmth. Water. Full of the scent of renewal, and life.
A bit of sorrow pinched in Leo's heart about his secrets, a slight anxiety at what further effect the undoing of his lies might have, yet it couldn't take from the glory that they knew each other all the more.
She knew his true name. He knew about her scar.
He felt the growing forgiveness in her deep squeeze, soothing him to depths. Maybe they could have a life together like Yor desired, one with joy and peace. For them.
"You did good. Today." he whispered.
"You too...Leo."
And her whisper of his name soaked right into him, deep into his heart.
...
They cleaned up the spilled water in the bathroom and dressed with renewed cheer, yet the sorrow floated in Leo's heart. Two deep secrets shared wasn't enough to restore Yor's trust or undo the smear of months of lies.
Now standing together before Yor's door, he could fall asleep standing up, and if he were honest, he hankered to do more than just sleep. Leo didn't blame Yor if all she preferred do was to just sleep.
"'Scuse me." Yor zipped into the bedroom, quickly shutting the door.
Leo stood there dumbfounded, clutching his jeans, the quartz stone safe in its pocket. He hadn't bothered putting them on since his pajama sweatpants were in her room.
Yor emerged. Her cheeks were painted with the faint rose-blush he found so pretty, yet he observed a black silky strap on her shoulder.
Yor stood before him in her long black nightie.
The same slinky gown she wore last Saturday night, the night of their wedding day. Which might have led to further delight, before their mutual ignorance of each others' scars interrupted things—leading to sleep, only sleep.
Yor stared at Leo, something smoldering in her eyes.
"Yor? You want to? With me?"
"I want to. If you do."
"I...do." Leo tossed his jeans into Yor's room. They locked eyes. He touched her left hip, slowly caressing, smoothing the silky fabric clinging to her bath-damp skin.
Yor took his other hand. She stepped back into her (their) room. Leo stepped forward, following. Just like picking up from last Saturday...Now they knew about each others' scars. She knew his true name.
He moved in to kiss her.
Yor pinned Leo to the wall. He was arrested by the ruby-amethyst fire flaming in her eyes.
Yor pressed a brutal, gentle kiss upon his lips. You stupid jerk, I love you, it said.
Leo froze. He was captured, captivated by the heat of her bold, angry kiss, seeking to pierce him...and love him.
—Who is this? Yor?
She him kissed deeper. Leo grew aware of Yor unfolding her petals to show him a new secret, just for him, a yet unseen inner layer.. The part of her able and brave enough to defend another?
Yor pulled her fingers through Leo's slightly damp hair, sending pulses down his spine. He stifled his cry. He started to answer her kiss, silently mouthing a name. "Rose."
—Is this Rose? That other part of Yor?
Once Yor told Loid of a persona she created so she dance alone at discotheques. She was too shy to as "plain old Yor." "You don't think that's silly?" Yor asked him then.
"Not silly at all," Loid answered, with a glint in his eye. "In fact, I understand completely."
Who gazed into him now? Yor and Rose? So be it.
Leo kissed her, falling deeper by degrees, her face, her eyes, her kiss, calling him, calling to that he kept out of sight. And those sides wanted to come out now he found he was not alone.
Twilight wanted to emerge.
Like a fly, a line from a pop song buzzed in Leo's head. Falling, oh, I'm falling...
Falling. He lay his fingers on the nape of Yor's neck, wanting to draw his fingers hard through her damp dark hair, to make her moan, like she did with him, yet he hesitated.
—I want this...not the using. Not as I did, as Twilight. Not with her...
A lurch of disgust in his gut cut into his growing passion.
Then Claudia, in his mind eye, smirked at him. You hypocrite, she seemed to say.
Who, me?
I knew you, as Twilight. And you knew me like this, as Claudia and Sunflower. Why can't she?
Leo protested. She's my wife.
Claudia answered with a knowing smirk. Your wife? As you once considered me. Or did you forget?
He could never forget. Didn't he know the difference between lust and love?
Love, which undid his lies, truing him, drawing him into an exclusive, honest keeping with his wife, falling further as secrets and truth were revealed, both of them descending into this deeper seduction...of authentic knowing.
Leo delicately grazed his lips upon Yor's, and passion became their guide.
Falling, falling...
How did their raw passion feel so clean? Purified by the water? Not quite. Because this was something only to be opened between the two of them, a secret garden for them two, a precious place where lover and beloved could enter into the deepest knowing of one another.
Something worth guarding and protecting.
Like the hidden glints in a quartz crystal, which uniquely shone when held only one way. Leo wanted to shine that way alone for Yor.
Twilight knocked from within him. Can I come out now?
Why the hell not. It's not like Yor was the only one with a secret side.
He drew his fingers deliciously through her hair, his lips playing upon her lips, tasting, pulling Yor deeper into his kiss and she let out a pleasured moan. Rose reciprocated with her own piercing kisses.
Twilight changed the intensity of the kiss, his lips fluttering, dancing upon hers. Rose melted into it, curling in her spine and Twilight stroked the small of her back, feeling her silky gown and her firm back.
Rose answered his kiss and held Twilight's face, her fingers brushing the roughness of his cheeks and jaw since he hadn't bothered shaving that day. They paused for breath, foreheads touching.
Leo caught her eyes. Yes, Love. I'm a bastard. But I can be a tender bastard.
Yor's ruby eyes sparkled with her reply. I know.
And she kissed him again.
...
Upon her bed, Yor sat a-straddle him, her nightie hiked round her legs, playing her pink-polished fingers upon Leo's bare chest, tracing down his body to the waistband of his underwear.
Leo gazed at Yor, held by her eyes. He smoothed her creamy shoulder, sliding the black strap down, pulling her near. Yor hooked her thumb into his waistband, gently tugging—she paused.
"Is this okay?" Yor's eyes shone with that sweet timidity he knew so well, along with an alluring amethyst glint showing the confident "Rose" was still there, yet demure.
"It's good." Leo brushed her cheek with his fingers, his ring catching a mellow shine in the dim light, and Yor's pin ring, swaying from its chain over him, too caught a glint.
He guided her hand back to his underwear. Was that Twilight? Maybe Leo too.
Yor gave that shy, bright giggle he loved so much and pulled at his underwear. He slid her nightie straps fully off and they were free, wildly free.
They laughed. In that shared warmth, scented by clean skin and roses, a hint of narcissus too, wafting in the air from the flowers on Yor's dresser, they were somehow themselves again.
As if Rose and Twilight had retreated to make room for Yor and Leo.
Yor leaned in close, smiling, and Leo reached to kiss her. Twilight urged him, he needed the thing, that thing, he put in Yor's nightstand earlier this week in anticipation of such intimate occasions (no tacky lovey-dovey sheets required). He shot his free hand to fumble open the nightstand drawer.
"Wait," Yor whispered. "I...want to feel all of you."
Twilight stopped fumbling with the drawer. "But? A baby—"
Again, passion rendered him inarticulate.
Yor understood. "A baby? I...wouldn't mind."
"But—" He paused, hand upon the drawer.
"I know...Couldn't we though, just a little?"
Leo held the thing in his hand. Yor's eyes still asked, Just a little?
Just a little?Hadn't he and Claudia dared so, careful to stop before they risked a pregnancy? She'd never gotten pregnant, he was sure, though they'd desired to have a child...one day in the future.
Leo dropped the thing. "Okay. Just a little."
"Thank you," Yor whispered. "Tell me if it's too much, okay?"
"I will." He shut his eyes.
Then Yor moved closer and he came into her. Unmasked.
Leo gave a small cry. In the quiet, in the nearness, it happened. Light, shining? Though his eyes were closed, he could see light, like starlight or moonlight surrounding them. All that shine, Yor around him, all of him, unmasked, falling deeper, drawing his wife closer, that light around them, shining, and the sensation, exquisite—
Leo squeezed his eyes. Too much. It's far too much...
"Yor." Leo gasped, his hands stilling.
"Something wrong?"
"No. Need to stop."
And they stilled.
"I'm sorry..." Leo blinked.
"It's okay." With her finger, Yor brushed his long lashes, wiping the tears from them.
He was crying? "I am sorry."
"It's okay if it's a lot. I'm not upset."
"But, Yor—" He lay his hand upon her waist, not sure what to do next.
—What am I sorry for?
Not because he wasn't ready to have another child. Because he couldn't be fully true with Yor?
Yor tenderly dabbed his eyes with the tips of her hair. "Everything's okay."
Leo nodded. And they withdrew, though a sort of closeness remained.
Yor lay beside Leo. He found some words to tell her.
"I'm sorry I'm not ready to be a dad again. To risk it...You know what a handful Anya is."
Yor touched his cheek with an understanding if she had an inkling that's not all it was, as her eyes seemed to hint.
"Having two kids is a lot. Especially Anya and a baby." Yor shrugged. "Even if she'd adore being a big sister, we don't need to rush it."
"Thanks."
Leo reached for the thing he'd dropped in the drawer, and this time, Yor didn't stop him. A closeness remained, and they did delight, yet he sensed a slight distance from within him. Who were they? Sometimes, Leo and Yor. Sometimes, Twilight and Rose. Sometimes he couldn't tell, their true selves and personas blurring. Compromised. Was he? But who?
In the soft moment after, holding each other, Leo had a strange sense of Twilight watching him from the shadows. He stared at the patch of moonlight casting onto the wooden floor, the shadows at its edges. Of course no one else was there. Only him.
Yor and him.
...
Waiting for Yor to return to bed, Leo lay on his side, thinking. He stared at the stray moonbeam shining on the floor again. He rubbed his eyes and it blurred into a puddle of white.
Yor slipped in bed behind him and gave his shoulder a kiss. "Goodnight, Love."
Leo remained silent.
"What's wrong?"
"I..." Leo pulled his eyes from the square of moonlight. "Sometimes...I wonder who I really am."
Yor was quiet a moment. "Everybody does, sometimes."
Leo furrowed his brow and gave a half-hearted laugh. "Yeah. Who doesn't?"
"But I know you're Leo." Yor spooned him, holding him closer. "And you're all Leo is."
"Thanks." He softly brushed her hand. "Goodnight."
"You too." Yor nodded, yawning. She shut off the bedside lamp and was soon fast asleep.
Leo took a deep breath and shut his eyes, yet found it hard to sleep. Maybe he should slip on his underwear (somewhere under his pillow) but he didn't feel like breaking Yor's embrace—all the more snug perhaps since Yor knew he was her real husband now.
Leo smiled at that, soothed by Yor's warmth and the silkiness of her nightie brushing upon his back. The dewy, sweet scent of narcissus mixed with the cool night breeze coming from the window. In the light of moon, the white flowers seemed to glow.
There was rain hidden in that scent. It filled him with a stab of longing.
—Can I ever tell her I'm "Twilight?" I almost wish I could.
Leo swallowed the angry lump forming in his throat.
Twilight scoffed in him. That's preposterous. Are you crazy?
Leo sighed. A spy who loses sight of who he is as good as dead. But why should the rest of me die?
Twilight gave no answer to this.
How foolhardy. To dare risking such a thing?
The rainy flower scent stirred his deep memories. Leo recalled a line from a T.S. Eliot poem: "April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain..."
By the the doorway of their home in Luwen, Mom had planted a white lilac bush, the prize and pride of her small garden. Leo loved the scent of lilacs mixed with springtime rain, and every May when they bloomed, Mom would bring a few branches inside, and the whole cottage would smell of lilacs.
One misty May day last year, Yor and Anya brought home boughs of lilac, and a small bouquet of lily of the valley in Anya's hand, too. The windows were open, bringing in the smell of rain, and the apartment was filled with the fragrance of lilac. Loid couldn't tell them what was happening in his heart. He excused himself, retreating to his room, holding a sprig of lilac and lily. He smelled them until they were limp, and his heart heavy. His family—so close in his grasp, yet elusive, like the fragrance of a flower.
Yor then knocked on Loid's door, asking if he wanted to help with dinner. He agreed. It wasn't until he entered the kitchen, Loid realized he still held a limp lilac sprig. Yor gave him a look. "My mother's favorite," he quickly explained. Yor patted his shoulder. "My mom loved lily of the valley," she told him. "I told Anya, and she insisted we picked some." Then Anya gave Papa friendly side pat to tell him "You're okay" (that perceptive kid) as he cooked something to go with Yor's canned soup. At dinner, Loid's heart felt lighter. How fortunate he was to have these two girls in his life, their care toward him like a flower's fragrance, not something to grab, but something to be experienced.
Now that he'd tasted the sunlight and rain of his family, could he bloom again? Inching toward truth and light...should his roots stay dead? Who was compromised one—Twilight or Leo?
Falling...
As he stared at the night sky in the window, trying to find the moon, the stab of longing in his heart grew into a yearning ache. Claudia—the only one he was this close to before Yor, and yet Claudia knew him as Twilight and Leo. But he did not get the joy to be in a family with her. To have a family as a child and lose it. To be engaged and lose his first beloved. To be in a family again with another beloved, wonderfully, unexpectedly so, yet not fully known—would his life always be full of compromises?
In the silence, smelling the narcissus, staring at the moonlight, Leo knew it.
—I will tell her. Because I want to tell her.
How and when and the circumstances why, he did not know. That could be planned for. The precarious balance of his life remained as long as STRIX was in play. He wouldn't dare compromise his mission, nor risk Yuri finding out his identity. If Yor ever found out about her brother's secret job, could he trust Yor on some level not to betray him to the SSS? Could Yor be an ally?
She'd helped his mission in unexpected ways. She seemed to understand the weight of carrying secrets. His wife was no average civilian. If Yor were underworld like him, she might understand. Maybe he could find a careful, covert, coded way to hint to Yor, "I am Twilight"—a way she might catch on (if she knew) and in a way that might not harm him (if she didn't) nor arouse Yuri's jealous suspicions.
But if it backfired?
It all depended on if Yor could be trusted.
Enough of this foolish thinking. To tell Yor he was the infamous "Twilight"? Wasn't Yuri's stunt with Anya's adoption records enough proof of their tenuous reality?
Don't think about it now. Figure it out in the morning. Later, when his head was clear.
Falling, and she keeps on calling...
Leo yawned and took a last glance at the moonlight. Though he couldn't see the crescent moon it was comforting to think the same moonlight danced its way into her room too. Would he pick lilacs with Yor and Anya this May? Maybe he might even suggest it. The watery-sweet scent of narcissus subtly perfumed the room, and Leo shut his eyes, drifting asleep to its fragrance.
Maybe his roots were not so dulled.
...
Gentle early morning light awoke them on Sunday. Leo sighed in pleased relief to see he was in familiar, real-world Berlint and not the world of his silly, vivid dream.
In it, Yor and he were rising up, up in a white hot air balloon, off to their honeymoon at Peanut Bay. The wide skirt of Yor's ballgown wedding dress almost filled the basket and he shone in his elegant white tux as they waved to the guests below. Anya ran after, grabbing at the rope trailing from the balloon basket. She held on. "Wait for me," Anya shouted.
"Anya," Leo chuckled to himself. Then he stared wide. "Anya—"
Yor yawned. "Morning..." She met his stare. "Anya? Oh, right!"
Anya could walk in at any minute. Anya, who struggled to get up for school, but without fail woke up early on weekends, never wanting to miss her morning family snuggles—
In a flash Yor was out of bed, slipping on underpants and yanking on her modest nightie over her black one. It took Leo a moment longer to snap awake but he managed to get on his underwear and long-sleeved t-shirt, and zipped in bed just before Anya came in.
A knock and a soft bark sounded from the door.
"Come in," mumbled, two parents feigning sleepiness.
"Good morningff..." Anya stumbled in, still her long white t-shirt, dragging Loid's afghan, followed by Bond."Lemme in the bed."
"Say please." Papa Leo tugged his groggy daughter's askew nightcap straight.
"Please."
He pulled back the blanket, and Anya wedged herself in her favorite snuggle spot, right between her parents. Bond politely curled up at their feet.
Anya poked him. "Ha ha. I see London, I see France, I see Papa's underpants."
Leo turned and grunted, pretending to be annoyed.
"Did you guys sleep good? I slept good," Anya said.
"Mmm hmm," they said.
"Did you guys have sweet dreams?"
"Mmm hmm."
"Did you guys make a baby?"
They both shot up. "No! We did not!"
"Good." Anya opened an eye to consider them, shut it and grinned. "'Cause I'm not ready to share you guys with a brother or a sister. Yet. And don't go finding one yet at the orfphanage, either."
He parents stared at each other until their redness subsided.
"Thanks for telling us, sweetie...but please, watch your words," Yor said.
"Oh, sorry. Are you mad?"
"No, sweetie."
They all flopped back into bed. Anya nudged him again. "Papa?"
"What?" He resisted the temptation to bonk Anya on the head for her impertinence. He was more of a time-out sort of dad, anyway.
"I know it's still your honeymoon...but can we have fun together today?"
"Sure, Peanut." Then he laughed. "We can all go to Peanut Bay."
"Peanut Bay? Is that a for-real amusement park? Can we go, can we?"
"No, we can't—I mean, sure, we can all fun together today. At home. Now settle down, please?"
"Okay Papa." Anya hugged him.
Then Yor, already almost asleep, wrapped them both in a tight squeeze.
Gripped tight again, but Leo smiled. Spending Sunday together as Anya tagged along on their "honeymoon"? Why not? He wouldn't have it any other way.
...
Sunday for the Forgers unfurled peacefully, just what they needed after a full Saturday. After breakfast, Loid (Leo) opted to take a long walk with Bond while Yor and Anya went to Mass. When they returned, Anya was full of ideas for family activities. Reading storybooks. Playing Spies. Puzzles and charades. Brushing Bond. Acting like animals at the aquarium.
They did many of those things, with laughter and fun, pausing for lunch. When Anya agreed to go study (and accidentally took a nap) her parents may or may not have taken advantage of that to have an intimate moment to themselves. Otherwise, Anya kept near her parents, sticking a bit closer to Papa.
Sometimes in the midst of their play, Loid and Yor would silently exchange a look, wondering if they should ask Anya if she still felt shaken by Yuri's actions, only to quietly agree maybe the best way to reassure her was to stick to their usual Sunday routine, only with more fun and play thrown in.
Later that evening, while Yor prepared a dinner of sausages and fried potatoes, Leo pulled out a good quality beginner's watercolor set he'd picked up some time ago on a whim. He asked Anya if she'd like to paint together with Papa, and Anya beamed at the idea.
Already Anya was taking out the watercolors, squirting some of the tubes onto the plastic palette, smearing her brush on the dry watercolor paper, and frowning in frustration at it.
"It's not working, Papa."
"Watercolor is a little different, Peanut. Let me show you. For example, you only need a little bit of paint and you change the color by how much water you add. And you can get a different effect by painting water on your paper with a clean brush, and then adding the paint."
He showed her how, and Anya followed with eager interest. While Anya's art skills were average, she loved to create and Leo found it easy to teach her. Maybe because he was having fun?
It had been so long. Usually he drew. It was fun to paint again. Was this the first time in years?
"What are you going to paint, Papa?
"Those roses in the vase there? Or should I do Bond?"
"Do Bond! Look at how big and fluffy-floofy he looks on the floor. Bet you can't paint him good."
"I bet I can, and I think I'll try." Papa Leo readied his paper and brush.
"You're on, Papa. What should I paint?"
"I don't know. Bondman fighting the bad guys? Or, surprise me."
"I'll surprise you." Anya grabbed a piece of watercolor paper. "But don't look, okay?"
He agreed and they began to paint. Soon he got into the flow of the work, and a simple, free portrait of Bond emerged from his brush.
Anya kept her picture a secret, yet allowed Yor to see when she checked in on them.
"Very colorful, Anya. Bond looks so soft, like I could pet him, Loid."
He winked at Anya. "Guess I won the bet, eh?"
"Hmmph." Anya tossed her head.
They feel into a quiet rhythm of painting, and somehow it was easier to talk. Papa Leo asked Anya about last night. Was she still feeling scared or worried?
Anya screwed up her face, thinking. "No, I'm okay now"
Leo paused, lifting his brush. "How come?"
"Because..." Anya set down her brush and looked at him. "I know you and Mama are with me. You're going to stay. And...maybe because we're real."
"Because we're real? That does make a difference."
Anya dotted something on her painting. "Do you ever think Uncle Yuri feels scared?"
"Why do you say that?"
"Only because Uncle Yuri still isn't used to sharing Mama. If he was, he might not feel so scared and jealous. He's got a real family with us, and when you know that, you can relax."
Leo knew. The strange wisdom of babes... "That's rather wise, Anya."
"You know, you could remind him he's in our family, too. Then Uncle Yuri might feel less jealous about sharing Mama, especially if he knows how sorry you are for lying."
A splot of blue dripped onto Leo's painting. "W-why me?"
"Because he needs to know you're not some alien invader. You're Papa. And Mama's husband."
"Hmmm. Right." Leo tried to smile. What more could he say?
Anya was ready to reveal her work. "Ta-da! We're superheros!" Anya cried.
Yor, came from the kitchen, spatula in hand, to see. Anya showed them a vivid picture of her friends as superheroes, in colorful costumes, each kid showing off their superpowers. Anya was in the center, in pink, ringed with bright stars, and from her upturned hand shot a ray of light.
"My ultimate attack my beam of 'Rising Hope'. " Anya explained. "I've also got a Peanut Bomb shooter to attack bad guys. We're good guys, who fight for World Peace."
He looked over the picture with Yor, a weirdly emotional smile forming on his face. They recognized Damian and Becky in the center with Anya, and some of Anya's newer friends from Eden around them. Behind the kids, Anya had painted several adults, some Loid recognized, like Master Henderson, Martha Marriott, and their neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Authen.
"This is our tack-tickle support team...the grownups."
"Anya, that's wonderful," Yor said. "Franky will love that you drew him in a flying suit."
"And who are those masked grown-ups in the center, right next to Franky?" Loid knew very well who, but pretended not to notice. Somehow the way Anya had drawn them gave him pause.
Yor played along. "Yes, who?"
"Silly Mama and Papa! That's you guys. The leaders of the support team."
Yor made a curious smile. "I've got flaming swords."
Loid cocked his head. "Why am I holding a gun with a silencer...and a cooking spoon?"
Anya smirked. "They're your super-powers. Somebody needs to cook for everybody, and Papa's—" Anya shot an embarrassed glance at Yor. "But Mama's getting better, and she shoots heart-rays the best."
Yor, about to wilt, instantly brightened. "Thanks, sweetie. Dinner's going to be—" From the kitchen, a burning smell attacked their noses. "Oh no, the fried potatoes!" Yor cried.
They went to the kitchen to assess the damage.
Loid scraped the burned potatoes into the trash. "No worries, Yor. How about some eggs?"
"With pancakes." Anya got the box of pancake mix. "Mama can make pancakes now."
Yor brightened. "I've mastered that. Sausage, pancakes, and eggs. I'm on it. Thanks."
"Our pleasure." Loid and Anya exchanged a good-natured shrug.
Anya stuck her watercolor onto the fridge. "Thanks for painting with me, Papa. Can I have the picture of Bond? Okay, I'm going to study now, bye."
Anya zipped out before he could say anything. Leo glanced at Anya's picture and found Yor staring at it too. Their eyes met. Instead of voicing his (their) discomfort, he smiled.
"Anya's really something, isn't she?"
Yor grabbed the box of pancake mix. "And thankfully back to her old happy self again."
"Need any help?" Leo passed Yor a fresh pan from the cabinet.
"No, no. I've got it. You relax for once." Yor took it and waved him off.
And Leo found himself again in the living room, alone with the paints.
The sun was lower, the sky filled with cool and gold evening shadows framed in the balcony window. Leo studied the growing shades of blue and purple, mixed with the setting sun's blaze.
Near the time of twilight. He gave a light shrug. Why not paint more? He had time.
Leo took a new piece of paper. He cleaned his brush and dabbed it in a bit of the blue. Then gold. Deep red, mixed with purple. A tiny picture flowed from his brush, of airy, cool blues and warm reds.
He didn't stop to think. He painted, lost in the pleasure of it, like the freedom he felt when he sketched, but now he used color, painting what he saw in his heart.
Falling...
A whiff of sizzling pancakes and eggs. The hint of perfume from the roses in the round blue vase on the coffee table. The living room full of a comfortable glow, the evening outside shrouded in dusk. A snoring dog. A ticking clock. A wife preparing dinner, and a daughter (hopefully) studying.
"Dinner's almost ready," Yor called.
Leo picked up the paper. Mouth parted, stared at his painting:
A jewel-like watercolor of red, red roses in a vase, before a deep blue twilight sky.
A/N:
(PEOPLE WHO READ END NOTES FIRST, DON'T READ THIS OR YOU'LL SPOIL IT FOR YOURSELF! ;P)
Skipped Part Summary:
***As they kiss, Leo becomes aware Yor is showing a new, unexpected side of herself, which he dubs "Rose." He wonders if he should show his Twilight side, and decides show let Twilight as they kiss. When they pause, Twilight communicates with eyes he knows he can be a jerk, and has been a jerk to her, yet he loves her and wants to be tender and good to her. Yor answers with her eyes, to say, "I know. But I still love you."
They find themselves in Yor's bedroom, about to make love. Yor/Rose pauses, wondering if Leo/Twilight is okay with progressing. He gives her the okay and Twilight fumbles in Yor's nightstand drawer for some protection. Then Yor asks him if they can try without it, just a little. He hesitates. He's not ready to be a dad again...but he's taken such risks with his first love, Claudia, so Leo agrees to try with Yor, "Just a little." It is wonderful, yet he finds it's too much for him, so they agree to stop.
(SPOILER ENDS HERE)
Leo, don't do it, don't do it! Don't tell her you're Twilight! Or will you? I get how bad you want Yor to know all about you even if it may bring great risk to yourself. Be careful! Kind of fun too this chapter was completed late April (2025), which the month when this chapter takes place.
Chapter 7 Fun Facts:
*The water imagery is inspired by the book "The Scent of Water" by Elizabeth Goudge. Great book! I'd love to read more of her work.
*I worked in another Audrey Hepburn movie reference, this time, from "Two For the Road" (during the Twiyor kiss scene). In it, Audrey Hepburn and Albert Finney play a husband and wife who love each other, but have had some painful moments partly due to his actions/choices. In one of the final scenes, they call each other names and kiss, in a way expressing their anger and forgiving each other at the same time. (Great movie.)
*The T.S. Eliot poem line Leo mulls over are the opening lines of "The Wasteland" (from 1922). Those lines have always resonated with me and I imagine they would for Leo/Loid/Twilight too.
Up next, chapter 8, the concluding chapter...the honeymoon is over and back to work. Leo risks sharing another secret with Yor. Was he hasty? He has no choice but to trust Yor. And he loses track of the quartz stone.
~Peace!