tminor4 - Tumblr blog

tminor4 · 2 years

Text

absence makes the heart grow fonder

a/n: twiyor brainrot inspired solely by that one scene in b99 where jake says he knew he wanted to marry amy when she was blasphemed at the crossword puzzle’s mistake. yes, this whole thing is because of that one scene. no, i don’t know how many words this is because i typed it straight into the textbox like an animal instead of in a doc. sometimes there are things that are too long for me to draw so i write them and everyone has to deal with the consequences <3

…

“Say goodbye, Anya,” Yor said. She loosely held her daughter’s hand, gripping her purse with the other. The three of them were sequestered in their own little bubble amid the bustle of the train station as various conductors shouted and tracks rumbled. Anya gazed up at her Papa, suit pristine with the lapels pressed down, briefcase in hand. Business trip attire. “We’ll be seeing Loid again after two weeks, now.”

Despite what they (or, really, just Yor—Anya knew better) believed, a business trip wasn’t exactly what was calling Loid away for two long weeks. No, the whole trip was Loid’s own machination, and it was all due to one tiny moment from a few days ago.

The moment was so mundane, so uneventful, that it shouldn’t have been pivotal in any capacity. It shouldn’t have had any significant impact; shouldn’t have been anything besides filler for more important happenings. But it was. In fact, that moment precisely was what spurred Loid into his current situation.

The moment in question? On a common school night, Anya had been watching a pre-bedtime run of a Spy Wars episode—a rare allowance from Loid, as Anya had actually managed to complete a whole set of homework problems that evening. Loid was sat in his usual loveseat, idly flipping through the day’s paper, with Bond at his feet. Yor was in the kitchen, brewing him a cup of chamomile tea. To help with his tiredness, she’d insisted, because lately it seemed like he wasn’t sleeping well.

He’d glanced up from his paper. It was just for a few seconds. In those few seconds, he’d pet Bond’s head, shook his head at the dramatics playing on the screen, and then looked over to the kitchen.

It looked like Yor had accidentally poured too much tea into his mug. So she blew off some steam, gingerly sipped, and then wiped the pad of her thumb across the rim before heading over to him with a smile.

That was it. The moment was Yor bringing him some tea.

There was no reason for that action to be significant in any way whatsoever. For it to feel like the steam she blew off went straight to his chest, warming him up from the inside. Or for the slight smudge of color on the rim of his mug, there despite Yor’s efforts, to be such a point of interest that he deigned to sip from the other side like some sort of schoolboy. It hit him later that night after an hour of tossing and turning in bed (the chamomile, sadly, hadn’t worked).

He was…preoccupied. With Yor.

It would be foolish, not to mention downright hasty, to say he was in love with her. Or that he harbored any extra feelings for her whatsoever. No, that wasn’t what this was. He was still a spy, first and foremost. She was just on his mind more than usual. Upon further thinking, it made total sense for this to happen. Yor was the only adult he was spending so much time with in close quarters. He’d been in plenty of fake relationships before, but none where he was married and in such proximity to the other party. Therefore, with prolonged exposure, he had just been conditioned to see Yor more, which lead to thinking about her more. It was the same way children took time getting used to a new teacher, but once they grew accustomed, they came to expect that teacher’s presence.

Right. So he knew now—it was just a case of a little mind preoccupancy. Nothing to truly worry about.

But.

The image of the tea, clear and honey golden and warm, flitted through his mind like an annoying gnat.

Something still had to be done before his work started getting seriously affected. If it was close proximity over prolonged periods that was causing him to lose his head, he would get away for a week or two, take that time to clear his mind. It would be a reset, a spiritual cleanse. It would be a business trip. It would be perfect. As the saying went, out of sight, out of mind.

Handler had approved his request with her eyebrows disappearing into the brim of her hat. He had never volunteered to do more work before. But, he figured that a couple weeks focusing on some gritty missions without having to juggle Strix (and, consequentially, see Yor) at the same time would be doubly useful in the mental cleanup process. Thus, within a few short days, an appropriate cover story was forged within his psychiatry job and he’d been able to go home and report the news to his fake family.

“A business trip?” Yor’s eyes had widened. “Where to?”

“Municht. They’re paying for our train tickets there and back. I’ll be gone for two weeks.”

“Two weeks is quite some time,” Yor remarked.

Precisely, he thought. An appropriate amount of time for me to get back on track with the mission, instead of spending time thinking about you.

Anya had been uncharacteristically silent during the whole ordeal. Right as Loid was going to ask if she was alright, she piped up, “Papa’s running away?”

He froze, shocked. Her innocent question struck closer to home than he thought possible. But he wasn’t running away from anything—this was for the sake of the mission. “Not running away, Anya. It’s a trip for work. I’m going to come back.”

At that moment, Bond skittered through the living room, tail between his legs. A moth fluttered a ways behind. The dog had clearly been spooked by the little bug. Anya cast Bond a glance, and then looked back up at Loid, with an expression that seemed to say, That’s you. Loid, deciding he didn’t like that one bit, turned back to Yor.

“Anyways, I’m leaving the morning after tomorrow, so I’ll try prepping some meals for you two tomorrow—”

“Don’t worry about that!” Yor said hurriedly. “Just focus on your upcoming trip. And let me know if you need any help packing. I’m quite good with that. Anya and I will be fine on food.” She beamed, a determined sort of glint in her eyes. “Who knows? Maybe by the time you come back I’ll be able to make more dishes!”

Anya’s expression said otherwise, but Loid smiled at Yor regardless. She was always determined, never one to give up. It was one of the qualities he admired about her most—

He coughed and turned into his room to start packing, ignoring Anya’s unsettling snickers.

And so here they were, one day later, at the train station early in the morning to see Loid off. Everything was set and ready. For two weeks, he’d go back to the spy he was before Strix; before he had started getting soft, doing things spies wouldn’t do, thinking about things spies wouldn’t otherwise care about. Of course, he’d still call home every night—or at least try his best to do so—but he wasn’t worried about that. The physical distance between him and his fake family would be more than enough to set him straight.

“Goodbye, Papa,” Anya said solemnly. She was dressed in her school attire, and Yor was dressed in her work clothes. They’d be going straight to their respective workplaces after seeing Loid off. Anya had been snickering the other night, but it seemed like Loid’s departure was finally dawning on her at the train station. Still, she bravely sniffled. “You have to call every night, okay?”

Loid knelt down and opened his arms; a second later Anya barreled into him, arms wrapped around his neck.

He couldn’t believe he was thinking this, but… he was going to miss her. As much of a handful as she was, Anya always made the days lively, even if he was exhausted afterwards. He could already feel a hollowness in his chest, something he hadn’t felt since his early days as a spy. It had been a long time since he’d felt this attached to anyone at all.

All the more reason for this trip.

“Berlint to Municht! Departing in 5 minutes!” A conductor shouted. Loid patted Anya’s back a few more times before straightening up. Yor had been watching them, and now faced him with a wistful smile on her face.

“I’ll see if I can bring back some souvenirs,” Loid said. “Any requests?”

“Surprise me,” she replied, smile widening. “Although I have heard about Municht’s specialty jam doughnuts.”

“Jam doughnuts?” Anya perked up in a flash. Her parents laughed.

“Don’t cause any trouble at home. If you’re a good girl, I’ll bring some back,” Loid promised. “I should get going, though. The train is about to leave.”

“Right.” Anya hugged her father’s legs again as he gathered his things and stepped up onto the train. He turned back around, hand up to wave, when Yor did something unexpected. Or maybe he should have expected it from the start—but Yor had a penchant for catching him off guard. She placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled him down, rising up on her tiptoes, to peck his cheek. It was over before he could even blink.

Her face was lobster red. “I-it would look weird for a married couple to not… well, if you just left and I didn’t…” She was fidgeting with her purse strap. “Um. Anyways. Enjoy your trip!” With that, she snatched up one wide-eyed Anya and booked it across the station, leaving a gust of wind in her wake that startled several passerby.

“Sir? Please get seated, the train is about to leave soon,” a crew member said. Loid jolted, realizing he’d been standing at the doorway, and cleared his throat.

“Right, of course. Thank you.” He made his way over to his cabin and sat down, pulling out a newspaper to blankly stare at.

Yor was right, of course. Normal married couples showed affection. Normal married couples saw each other off when one of them had to leave. Normal married couples kissed each other, on the cheek and otherwise. What she did was good for their cover and perfectly normal.

He was so normal about this.

…

A week into his ‘business trip’, he was unable to call home at his usual time. He’d been calling around dinnertime for the past days, but today he was hit with a late night mission that didn’t wrap up until midnight. By the time he made it back to the room he was staying in, it was almost 1. He didn’t expect Yor to pick up when he dialed the phone.

But, ever the one to surprise him, she did.

“Hello?”

Loid blinked. “You’re awake,” was all he managed to say after a few seconds. He immediately facepalmed. Of course she’s awake, idiot. How else would she have picked up?

He heard a breathy exhale over the receiver, something that might have been a hushed laugh. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Sorry, I’m calling so late. The conference today ran way overtime and then the cab got stuck in traffic on the way back…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Yor assured him. “Anya might want to say hi to you tomorrow morning, though.”

“How is she?”

“She’s doing well.” She paused and shuffling sounds came over to his end. He imagined her readjusting the phone, maybe bringing a chair over to sit down in. “I thought she would be more upset about missing tonight’s call, but she was actually very understanding about it. Said something about how ‘bad guys don’t wait’. She certainly has an active imagination.”

Loid nervously chuckled. Anya’s active imagination felt like a wild card concerning his secret occupation. “Is that so?” He leaned his head back against the wall. He was still in the clothing he’d worn to infiltrate the warehouse. His shirt was ripped in places and his pants were dirty. The first thing he’d done upon returning hadn’t been to change, or take a hot shower, but to call home. (Because he didn’t want to worry them, or for them to get suspicious.) “It’s good that she’s faring well without me.”

“That’s not to say she doesn’t miss you,” Yor added quickly. “She’s always talking about things she wants to show you once you get back. And there are those jam doughnuts that she hasn’t forgotten about.” They shared a laugh.

A yawn slipped out of him before he could stop it. Yor gasped. “Oh no, I’m keeping you up! You must be exhausted.”

He was tired from the mission. But he hadn’t gotten to properly talk to Yor in a week, and found himself reluctant to hang up. Most of their dinnertime calls were taken up by Anya chattering about whatever, while he listened and reminded her to finish all her work and not neglect studying. He and Yor would exchange a few words before hanging up for the night.

And honestly? His business trip was working. The relentless missions made it impossible for him to think about anything other than the task at hand. He almost exclusively used the room he’d rented for sleeping and sleeping only. Other than their nightly calls, he didn’t have time to think about his fake family, to get tripped up in the thin line between Loid and Twilight. So talking to Yor for a bit longer wouldn’t do anything.

After debating all this, he said, “It’s fine. I can talk longer.”

They ended up talking for an hour and a half before saying goodbye. In a sleepy haze, Loid never noticed the smile on his face as he washed up and went to bed.

…

The first word out of Anya’s mouth when she saw Loid get off the train was a shriek of “PAPA!” coupled with her sprinting and launching herself at him with full force. Once Loid caught her and managed to situate her in his arms amongst various bags, miraculously not dropping anything, the next thing she said was “Jam doughnut?”

Loid huffed, unable to fight down a smile. Only because it had been two weeks since he’d been face-to-face with her shenanigans. “You almost made me drop those doughnuts, you know,” he said, nodding at one of the bags. Before Anya could grab at them, he asked, “Where’s Yor?”

Anya vaguely gestured to the crowded platform, more interested in trying (and failing) to wrestle the bag out of Loid’s grip. “Mama is coming. I ran ahead of her and got here fast, ‘cus I can get around people easier,” she said matter-of-factly.

“You shouldn’t run off like that,” Loid scolded. “She’s probably worried right now looking for you—”

As if on cue, Yor emerged from behind a group of people, looking frazzled. “Anya! Where did you run off to? Anya! An—” Then she spotted them. The worried creases in her face all but melted away as a huge grin overtook her face. Something twinged in his chest. “Loid!”

She approached them and pinned a halfhearted frown on Anya. “You shouldn’t run off like that,” she said, parroting Loid’s words from before. It was clear that Yor was too distracted to give her a proper scolding, though, something Anya took advantage of by quickly changing the subject.

“Papa, did you get gifts?! Becky says that her Papa gets her presents when he goes overboard!”

“Abroad,” Loid corrected. “And that depends on whether you were doing your homework like I told you to.” She doesn’t need to know about the Bondman action figure yet. Surprisingly, instead of groaning or grumbling, Anya brightened up like a sunrise.

The train station wasn’t far from home, so the three of them opted to walk back after Yor insisted on carrying Loid’s things for him (once they were in her grip, he had no choice but to let her). All the while, Anya chattered about how she’d “held down the fort” and “made good even with the bad guys”, AKA Damian. Loid indulged in her imaginative story, allowing his shoulders to loosen a little, to ease in the waning sunlight and their relaxing walk.

Only because it had been two weeks since he’d been able to relax a little. His business trip had still served its intended purpose, even if he felt like a sponge soaking in the company of his fake wife and fake child. That was just a given after seeing them for the first time in weeks.

When they got to the apartment, Bond greeted Loid by nearly tackling him and nuzzling into his legs. And even though Loid told Bond to stop, it came out halfhearted. Not that the hound listened anyways. They sat down and finally ate the famous jam doughnuts which, luckily, lived up to the hype. The sweets were light and pillowy, and Anya made no shortage of exclamations while scarfing them down and getting jam all over her face. Loid watched Yor wipe Anya’s face with a napkin, an indescribable feeling filling up in his chest.

No. Not indescribable. But he was afraid to name it. If he did, it would mean that the two whole weeks away would have been in vain.

“Presents! Presents! Presents!” Anya chanted after their snack, hopping around. The sugar high was clearly kicking in. “I know you got ‘em!”

Loid considered checking her homework first, but relented with a roll of his eyes and reached into one of his bags which Yor had set on the ground. He pulled out a box and handed it to Anya.

“Bondman!” She squealed. Loid blinked. How on Earth could she know that before opening the box? Anya coughed and said, “I think. I think you got me Bondman because he’s my favoritest.” She opened the box and squealed again, jumping up and down. “YESSS! I WAS RIGHT!” Loid was unable to hold back a chuckle as he watched. Yor, too, laughed as she told Anya to watch her feet.

“I got you something, too,” Loid said, drawing a startled gasp from Yor.

“You didn’t have to—!”

“I wanted to,” Loid interrupted. He brought out another box, this one smaller, and handed it to Yor. “Tell me what you think.”

Mouth slightly ajar, Yor slowly slid the cover of the box off to reveal a hairpin. A small, ruby rose was set in delicate golden leaves at the end of a sharp wire.

She stared. And stared. The longer she went without saying anything, the more Loid’s mind raced. Did I get the wrong thing? But I thought it would go with her aesthetic well! She likes roses and the color red. And a hairpin is a small, practical item that wouldn’t get in her way like a necklace or bracelet. But what if she has a traumatic childhood experience involving hairpins?! You should have researched more, Twilight! If you’ve angered her then—

But then she exhaled shakily, bringing all his thoughts to a screeching halt. One hand pressed to her mouth while the other carefully lifted the pin. Then, she slipped her headband off, hair tumbling down around her shoulders, and slid the pin into place.

“Thank you,” she said softly, and then louder, “Thank you. This is… this is the best gift anyone has ever gotten me.” She smiled and a thousand roses bloomed. “I love it.”

Oh.

Loid could feel his efforts of the last two weeks beginning to unravel like a spool of thread at the sight of her. He’d wrapped the thread so tightly that it was straightening out twice as fast, spinning uncontrollably in his hands, a whiplash he couldn’t dodge.

He’d played the fool’s game. Yes, there was the saying out of sight, out of mind. But he’d forgotten about one other saying, apparently much more applicable: absence makes the heart grow fonder.

There was no singular moment which had thrown him into a predicament. No magic steam blown from a cup, no special tea which made him think non-spy things, do non-spy actions. Rather, he was knee-deep in this situation and only realized it when it was already too late. Saying goodbye at the train station. Nightly calls. Sharing sweets and bringing gifts and walking in warm patches of sunlight and watching them smile. Every single moment, he was sinking deeper, and no amount of distance he put between himself and his fake family could help redefine the long-blurred line between Loid and Twilight.

He wasn’t just preoccupied. He was well and truly done for.

1K notes · View notes