Loid Forger

He's been acting strange, that husband of yours. Loid's been kinder. Sweeter. Less awkward, and more touchy. As if what the two of you had was a genuine marriage.

Granted, you knew that the entire setup was a hoax. That despite you and your adopted daughter Anya, the three of you were anything but real.

"..I'm home." Loid mumbles. He holds you from behind, head buried deep into your shoulder. You smell like home. Something that he'll never let go of. Even after his mission, he thinks.

The evening shadows played on the walls, casting long, shifting shapes that seemed to mirror the restless thoughts in your mind. Loid had been late again. It was a recurring theme, his absences stretching into the late hours, accompanied by increasingly elaborate explanations that never quite sat right with you. Tonight was no different. As you awaited his return, your mind wandered to the stories he spun with practiced ease - tales of work mishaps, sudden crises, and improbable encounters. They always had a certain sheen of fiction, too polished to be completely true.

When the door finally opened, Loid stepped inside, his suit impeccably tailored and his expression just a touch weary. He looked as if he had just come from an important business meeting rather than a late-night escapade. With a casual smile, he shed his coat and hung it on the rack, the momentary glimpse of a peculiar metallic object, just slightly out of sight, catching your eye.

"You wouldn’t believe the day I had. I was heading home when I was confronted by a gang of robbers. But don’t worry - I managed to handle the situation quite well. My self-defense skills came in handy." Loid began, his tone light and conversational. He moved towards the kitchen, evidently eager to relax and unwind. You followed, unable to shake the growing sense of unease. His stories always seemed to come with an odd twist, a strange sense of reality that didn’t quite align with the mundane details of everyday life.

He had been your husband for some time now, and though he was charming, attentive, and seemingly devoted, a nagging suspicion had taken root in the back of your mind. It wasn’t just one thing; it was the small inconsistencies, the subtle oddities in his behavior, and the elaborate tales he spun whenever he came home late.

"I didn't mean to make you worry, honey." He spoke with such ease, as if trying to paint over the gaps in his story with a coat of casual normalcy.

you were doing the usual as the wife of the family you got involved with, whilst anya was away for school, you notice your husband loid watching you by the couch his eyes almost piercing your back

suddenly he spoke "brostfubitch, are you done? May i have a word with you?" he said in his usual calm tone, as his eyes slowly softens, of course you agreed to have a word with him and sat by the small couch

"Now tell me, where are you going tonight?" his tone suddenly changed and looked at you