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

11

Her face was melancholic and horrible. My mind raced with the duality of everything and nothing at all. I tore my eyes from the paper in front of me, my own tragic eyes meeting hers.

"You don't remember it, do you."

Y/n L/n. Location: unknown. Time: unknown.

Waking up somewhere you're not supposed to be is never really fun.

Waking up knowing you're at the hands of your natural enemy is a little bit worse.

I awoke to a world of disorientation. Everything was a swirl of indistinct shapes and muted colors, as if I were trying to perceive the room through a thick pane of frosted glass. Each pulse of my heartbeat hammered against the inside of my skull, echoing with a dull, persistent throb that made focusing even more difficult.

Tentatively, I attempted to shift my position, only to realize with a jolt of terror that I was immobilized. The unforgiving bite of cold metal dug into my wrists, and a rough texture grazed against my ankles – restraints, I registered, a fresh wave of panic lapping at my already frayed nerves. My body was cinched to a chair, forcing me into an awkward upright position.

My heart thrummed a frantic rhythm against my ribcage, mirroring the panic that surged through my veins like an electric current. My mind was a flooded with a concoction of confusion and disarray, thoughts whirling chaotically as I grappled to comprehend the situation. I was a trained assassin, a spy for the CIA, always the captor, never the captive. Yet, here I was, bound and helpless.

Straining against the pulsing throb in my head, I forced my eyes to adjust, to pierce through the disorienting blur of the room. The more I tried to anchor myself, the more the chilling reality of my predicament seeped in, replacing the fog of disorientation with a stark clarity that was equally daunting.

Each new detail that I registered only amplified the sense of dread that was slowly coiling in the pit of my stomach. The walls were bare and austere, devoid of any personality, any indication of where I might be. The solitary window was bolted shut, the meager light that filtered in doing little to dispel the room's ominous gloom. The air was stagnant, a stale mustiness that left a faintly sour taste on my tongue, a grim testament to the room's lack of use.

A cold knot of fear lodged itself in my throat as the gravity of my situation sank in. I was a captive, bound and immobilized in an unfamiliar room, with no recollection of how I ended up here. The last thing I remembered was the heated argument with Loid, my mission, Yor... everything else was a blank.

Sitting there in my restraints, I could do nothing but helplessly scan the room, my heart hammering in my chest, the gnawing unease in my stomach growing with each passing second. My body still ached from the encounter I had with Yor. The room was silent, save for the sound of my own ragged breaths and the distant hum of what sounded like a generator.

Yet, even in the face of such uncertainty and fear, the CIA agent in me refused to submit. Panic might have surged through me, but surrender wasn't an option. I needed to keep my wits about me, to remember my training, and above all, to plan my escape.

Or maybe, I was tired of escaping Yor. I needed to finally stop running.

The room echoed with a voice that sent a shiver down my spine, a voice unmistakably familiar yet wholly unexpected. "Good, you're awake," it resounded, its sharp edge cutting through the uneasy silence that hung in the room.

My eyes, previously squinting through the haziness, finally began to focus. As the forms and shapes in the room coalesced into something recognizable, the figure standing in front of me materialized into a specter from my past: Yor.