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As tensions rose between the east and west, The forger family were having a home day… All of them had gotten the flu.
~
“Loid! You don’t have to do that! You’re sick as well!” Yor anxiously rambles off as Loid places a cold, wet cloth on her forehead. His own fever was unnaturally high, however he was used to working in these conditions. A mere fever doesn’t keep the spy job at bay.
There will always be something to do. Taking care of his pretend wife and child was a part of the mission, he always had to stay on his toes, even in sickness, he remembered his vows to Yor.
Anya herself wasn't running a fever, but her nose was running and her head ached. She waltzed into Yor’s bedroom, the only time the two of them had ever intruded in Yor’s space, and curled up into the bed next to her mother.
“Oh Anya,” Yor pressed a gentle hand on Anya’s back. “You’re shivering.”
“Mama…” Anya snuggled closer.
Loid’s chest warmed at the sight of affection between the two of them. Even if it is due to the illness, he was glad they were close as ever. For some reason, it made him feel at home, too.
Yor straightened in bed, fixing her and Anya’s position as Loid prepared a wet cloth for Anya as well, despite her not having a fever, he figured she would want to be a part of the ‘fun.’
He gently places the warm cloth on Anya’s head to match the shivering.
“Have to… defuse the bomb…” Anya speaks sleepily, her eyes closing.
Yor and Loid snicker at the sleeping child, her mouth open, drool slowly pouring out the sides of her lips.
“This might be… The sick talking, but, I think I feel a little better seeing her sleep soundly.” Yor smiles at Loid after speaking those words.
Loid smiles back, pressing his hand on hers. He takes her hand gently.
Yor’s cheeks instantly turn red, her eyes glittering at the gaze of the man she’s always had a crush on, but never been able to say to him, for the fear of ruining the fake marriage.
Loid didn’t seem to feel the same anyways, he didn’t seem to notice the gentle pushes Yor brought onto the table. The swaying touch of a hand. The goodnight-whispers at the doorway of their separate rooms. Yor had become more boldened lately, but despite all of that— she still did not see herself coming clean to Loid anytime soon.
“I feel a bit better as well.” Loid replies, moving his piercing gaze away from Yor and onto the sleeping Anya.
Yor finds herself staring at the skin of her fake lover, feeling the heat rise within her body. She wanted to do something, the sickness was making her hazy and yearning for something. She just didn’t know what.
“Loid, I have a question…” She finds herself speaking as she looks down now, her eyes on their intertwined hands.
“Yes, Yor?”
“When you think about… Well, our future… What do you see?”
The question stumped Loid. Or rather, Twilight. He knew this fake family would only be temporary, but the feelings he’s beginning to feel for Yor aren’t. He couldn’t answer this truthfully. That wasn’t a spy thing to do. He had to lie, despite the truth sitting neatly on the tip of his tongue.
“I…” For the first time, Twilight didn’t know how to answer a question he was asked. He was truly, in all cases, stumped.
“Sorry! That was such a dumb question I know! It’s probably just me being dizzy from the sickness and not thinking straight about my own thoughts! I’m sorry!” Yor swallows her nerves down after another anxious ramble.
“Yor, it’s alright…” Loid leans in closer, back in his body and back in control. Yor’s face burns red again as he nears her. “It was a fine question to ask. I’m not… An idiot. I know what signals you’ve been sending.”
“WHA—?!” Yor squeals, her face flushed and fever running higher for sure, now.
Twilight had actually known since that first look of love from Yor. He was exceptionally good at spotting people’s emotions, and reading expressions.
For instance, Nightfall had been the easiest to spot out of anyone. But with Yor, he didn’t want to believe it, because… He wanted it to be Yor so badly. He wanted this family to be real, and non-temporary.
But, Twilight knew that a life like that wasn’t for him.
So on his tongue now was a lie.
“Yor, I know the way you feel for me. But, for the sake of not only ourselves but for Anya too, we have to stay profe...” Loid’s throat burned as he spoke. “Yor… I… I’m sorr…” He tried again.
Yor leans in and stops Loid from finishing his sentence. Their lips come together and despite both of them attempting to hold back, they simply cannot. Loid’s hands move down to Yor’s waist, the wet cloth falling in between them and onto the ground. Their kisses start soft and gentle, but grow more hungry by the second. Through their fevers, sweat sticks to each of their faces and skin. They pull apart, breathing heavily. A wish fulfillment that cannot be spoken about. Yor and Loid sit quietly.
Anya stirs next to Yor now, realizing that she moved away from their cuddling position.
“Mama? Papa?” Anya sleepily speaks, her eyes slowly opening to face them. “Were you flirting?”
“NO!” Yor and Loid say in unison. Their laughter coming quickly after. Anya laughs too, joining in on the fun.
That’s when Loid moves the warm cloth, and places a gentle hand against Anya’s forehead.
“Uhoh, it seems like you now have a fever as well.”
Yor puts a hand to her mouth.
“Are we sure it wasn’t the cloth?” Yor asks, but Loid simply shakes his head. Twilight was able to read body temperature perfectly. He knew that Anya wasn’t just slightly warm.
“Anya, why don’t you go wet this cloth with some cold water?” Loid hands Anya the cloth, patting her on the head as she slowly scoots out of the bed and steps out of the room.
Once Anya is gone, Yor squeaks out an apology.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… I understand your point… I shouldn’t have done that!”
“Yor,” Loid laughs. “It’s quite alright.”
“It is?” She says through a sad mumble.
“Yes.” Loid snickers.
“We can still… Keep our relationship professional! Just forget about the kiss entirely!” Yor waves her hands in a gesture as she speaks.
“No, no…” Loid says, his smile softly forming into his lips.
Twilight knew this wasn’t a good idea, but the words he wanted to say were on the tip of his tongue, and for some reason…
“We can figure this out. Together.” He softly says. Almost not believing the words escaping his mouth.
Yor squeals once more, her face exploding in red as she screams.
“Yor! Calm down!” Loid nervously smiles.
“WAAAAAAAAAA!” Yor yells, her hand flying upwards and inching towards hitting Loid across the face. Loid stops the blow, and Yor gasps at the notion.
Loid leans in this time, for another kiss. This one is softer, a simple peck against Yor’s lips. She leans in, but he pulls away, leaving her lingering for more.
“Hah!” Anya stands in the doorway. “Mama and Papa are flirting!”
~
The forgers all cuddled into Yor’s bed after that, sleeping soundly through the rest of their sick day.