ALIAS | loid forger x reader / agent twilight x reader [spyxfamily]

1

Darkness loomed over the hills, bathing them in cool grey like a liquid. The runway was sprinkled with light on its edges, illuminating the pale dashed line splitting down the middle. It was 4:30 or so; maybe 90 minutes until the sun would imbue the sky.

It was also thirty minutes until I left the country I devoted my life to.

I've been deployed around the world before. Somalia, Kosovo, Bosnia, Ethiopia, Japan, you name it. Each trip has been a unique experience. My thirst for the pursuit of knowledge is quenched most of all in this career; I expose myself to different cultures and mimic a chameleon with utmost desire. I learn plenty, whether it is from a headstrong detainee in Istanbul or the gentle woman who owns a pasticceria in Milan. What matters is that a part of me is left in these little spots around the world, and a part of the world resides with me.

I knew I'd have to pay Ostania a visit eventually. Not only Ostania, but the part of me I left behind there.

My dearest Ophelia...

Something comparable to confusion brewed in my chest. Maybe writing to her now isn't the best idea. She doesn't deserve an impromptu letter from me just because it's convenient. But yet, while I contemplate my true desires, a jet lifts off of that pale runway.

Maybe this letter would lift that confusion off of my shoulders. Maybe indecision is the worst decision of all.

I became a slave to the keyboard.

My heart aches at the premise that I have not been keeping in touch. I wish nothing more than to be assured that you have been taking care of yourself. I know times have been turbulent and you and I are busier than ever. I know you're on your own and you're a strong kid. I know you have ambitions that are akin to mine. Most of all, I know that your undying love and passion have gotten you to where you are now. I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you more than I should've.

I miss you more than anything. You were always so good to me, so caring, so kind. I hope you can forgive me for sacrificing myself to this job. I hope you've followed your dreams as well. Last I heard, you secured a job position you're proud of. My admiration for you floods my conscience with joy.

I've been waiting to tell you this, but I will be traveling to Ostania for a business trip within the next day. I will likely be there long enough for us to meet up and reconcile. Five years ago, when I left, we promised each other something. Do you remember? If you do, just know I will hold my end.

I'm grateful for the time to which you may devote to a response. I hope to see you soon, little one.

In this moment there was a certain stillness in my mind that coexisted with the absurd. My physical body seemed to be disconnected from reality in a way. I looked out the window, back to the liquid darkness which loomed over the hills that were bathed in cool grey—the thought of "living" in Ostania again, even if it was temporary and a facade, seemed that same eerie grey color to me. Memories of Ostania are dull. Dirty. Sporadic. I desperately attempted to cleanse my mind of the broken nation's adversities.

At the same time, it remains a significant part of my identity. I was born there. I was raised there. I don't have the most pride in what I had to do to survive, but it doesn't distract from the fact that I still did it. It's times like these where I hope karmic laws life will spare me and concede at the sight of my presence. But alas, the universe takes its course and listens to no one's pleas.

It's a catch-22 situation. Working for the CIA has granted me the gift of identity. I do not choose who I am; they choose it for me. I hardly ever go to the same place twice, let alone have the same alias twice. It relieves me of that burden.