Chapter Text
There was a certain spark that came with small rarities, such as alone time with your wife or a once-in-forever date that Twilight noticed– something undoubtedly differentlingering in the air, like the sillage of a stranger’s perfume, perhaps. A pleasant shift in the atmosphere. Or the sparkle in Yor’s eyes as she took her seat in a quaint table for two, her eyes darting to each piece of cutlery.
Lanterns hung from the ceiling, infusing the dining area with a comforting glow, though Twilight hardly needed any extra heat: every time he glanced at Yor, a warmth both gentle and crisp pooled in his stomach.
They settled into their chairs, and soon they found no more reasons to avert their eyes from each other– whilst either had settled with their feelings inside, outside they were a blizzard of uncertainty. This road was new, untouched, and every step they took was feather-light, in case the ground below decided to cave.
“Your menus,” smiled a waitress in blue.
“Thanks,” Twilight said.
“Wave me over when you’re ready to order!” With that, she left.
The two looked down at their blue and peach menus. The silence was ice, and both of them wanted to break it. They just didn’t know how.
Twilight could feel himself start to worry, the telltale hummingbird wings trapped in his chest, tapping and tapping andtapping–
“Loid!” Yor asked suddenly, voice bright. “What are you going to get?”
Everything seemed to still, for a second.
“I,” Twilight said, “I actually don’t know yet.”
He shook himself mentally: after all, now was not the time for him to seem out of character. It was the time to treat Yor how she deserved to be treated, the time to swallow down any insecurity and look ahead.
So that’s what he did.
Twilight cleared his throat, grinning. “Maybe the pasta? Though I don’t think I’ll ever forget the time when Anya ate it.”
“I thought I’d never be able to clean the sauce off her dress…”
“How old was she then? Seven?”
“Six, I think. One of our firstootings."
They both laughed at the memory of Anya trying and adorably, of course, failing to sayouting.Twilight caught Yor’s eyes as if it was an object flying through the air– just in time.
All of a sudden, in the span of mere seconds, the laughter ceased and it became deadly silent, the instant quiet ringing hollow in their bones.
Yor turned pink. Twilight swallowed, fingers tapping on his leg. It was a pattern he hadn’t used in a long time: morse code.
.-- .... .- - -.. .. -.. .. -.. - - -
(what did I do?)
Every conversation followed a similar path– first it would flow exactly as Twilight would have expected, would have wanted, and then it would promptly give away to jarring awkwardness. He wondered whether he did something to cause its arrival.
Whilst they were nearly finished with their meals– Twilight with pasta, Yor with soup– the same waitress from before offered them drinks.
“There’s red wine, white wine, champagne, prosecco, whatever you’ll take.”
Yor bit her lip, staring at Twilight. “We could share a bottle or two? If you’d like to.”
He reddened at the thought of his lips touching anywhere hers had been, but Yor’s eyes were human starlight, if anything. Twilight could handle this.
“Sure.”
“Two red wines, please,” Yor smiled shyly.
“‘Course.”
“There’s a park nearby,” Twilight mentioned, as the noise level in the room steadily increased. “If you’d want to go. They say you can see the moon quite bright from one of the hills.”
“I’d love to,” she said quietly, eyes twinkling.
They’d brought two bottles of wine outside to the park after paying, glints of the tinted glass shining in the moonlight. At first, they’d hesitantly sipped, even Yor. But as time went on, the swigs became longer, words more soft, and Twilight wondered how the bottles hadn’t finished yet– his mind wasn’t sluggish, but he felt warm. It took a lot of alcohol to alter even the subtlest senses.
“Yor,” Twilight said, voice thick with something he couldn’t name. “Yor.”
“Loid?” she asked quietly and the distance between them was decidedly killing Twilight– to him, Yor looked so fragile, swaying in her dress, cheeks tinted with the shine that came with wine, eyes dazed and trained on the moon.
And Twilight was a weak man, and would have openly admitted that he’d take care of her like glass.
He moved forward, stepping right to her at the moment she reached for him too.
The moon wasbrightthat night, the glow reflecting white in Yor’s cherry-red eyes.
The breeze was calm, just right, dare he say perfect.
A second passed, and then Twilight could taste the flavour of red wine on his lips, and it felt like a surge of electricity. After what felt like hardly any time, they broke apart as if both of them were shocked, thunderstruck.
Stumbling, Yor stepped back in a daze. She looked up at him, tilting her head up in a way that made Twilight oh so aware of the height difference between them. It was almost comical how many details he noticed in the short span of time before he leaned in for another kiss: the curve of her eyelashes, the hitches of breath she took every so often. Hints of something rose-like in the air.
They went back and forth, leaning this way and that, trading touches as if it was a luxury. Stepping forwards then reaching back, as if thinking twice about the next move, before diving in once more.
The time on Twilight’s watch said it was a quarter past ten, nearing the time of their return home, and though Twilight prided himself on keeping to schedule, Yor had just tangled her hand by his neck and then oh god his collarbone and it felt like hot embers curling in his gut and– and damn the time, he’s Loid Forger, right now. Not a sensible spy, not a careful infiltrator.
Loid Forger.
By the time they got home, with twinned wine-stained lips and sweet grins, Anya was fast asleep. Franky was close to calling Handler.
“How did it go?”
“As good as I hoped.”
“Come on, man. Just good? You didn’t canoodle?”
“I– we–”
“–is that ablushI see? The great Agent Twilightblushing?”
“I’ll let you know I have a knife in my–”
“–Twilight.”
“Remind me how I could ever choose to be near you?”
“It's my appealing personality, see. I’m not just a girl magnet, I’m a guy–”
“Franky.”
