a civil servant - a wife - an assassin?

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" Right now? "

Yor glanced at all of the available seating. It was such a pleasant day out. Not too sunny, not a hint of humidity. No sweater needed for the slightly overcast weather, and it smelled divine. A few of her coworkers had mentioned the food from the new restaurant.

" Would Anya- " She caught herself before holding her thought. No, she didn't think their daughter would be too upset if they ate out without her. Though she was a little flustered at the thought of it being just them, the assassin nodded.

in another life, Yor could have been a fashion designer or perhaps a model. since she was younger she had a fascination for pulling together different kinds of outfits for both her and Yuri, even if they were considered "odd."

bold for always, italicize for sometimes. repost and tag if you'd like.

𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑.    a chill right down to the bones.   tobogganing.   teeth chattering.   sleeping all day.  sitting by the fireplace.   spending time with family.    layered clothing.   seeing another’s breath.   loving the cold.   a state of inactivity.    cold hands.   blistering winds shaking the closed windows.   a bookcase full of brand new books and all of the time in the world to read them.  cable knit socks.   a bitter remark.  a log cabin in the middle of nowhere.   hating the cold.  full-length windows to peer out of.  pale skin.   deep conversations. watching the snow fall. sharp edges. hot cocoa.   smelling every candle in the store.  a wild snow storm. melancholy. lighting candles around the bathtub.  snow globes.  expressing yourself but never finding quite the right words. the softest of blankets.   liking, but not loving something or someone.

𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. the smell after it rains. being in control of yourself. a soft breeze blowing your hair. lightning when it strikes. cherry blossoms. bright mornings. the first sign of hope. the relief of finding something you lost.  paris in the spring. birds chirping. the art of growing.  a kiss on the cheek. the clap of thunder.  a tornado in the valley.  smiling at a stranger. planning. saccharine pinks.  making promises. trying something new.  hugs when you need them most.     a bee sting.      sitting on the steps of the met.      coming inside drenched from the thunderstorm.  picnics on a red checkered blanket in the new sun.   that feeling you get when you put on a good dress. a long hike. rushing when you can take your time. going to the gym/training at ungodly hours. excitement for what’s coming. becoming yourself.  rain boots.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑.       lanterns lit around a campfire.   seeing the sunrise like it’s the first time again and again. melting ice cream. the warmth of sun rays upon skin. fireworks. the feeling of never wanting something to end.  beach days.       the lone blow up floaty left in the pool.      drifting with the warm nights breeze and nothing else. music blasting at 3am,     loud and proud.     palms trees on sunset boulevard.     longer days and shorter nights.  wanderlust.  nights spent staring at the stars.  sand castles.   road trips.   blood orange sunsets. leaving the laundry to hang outside. flowers in bloom.  sneaking out of your room late at night.  pure contentment. barefoot in the sand.    the street lights coming on.    the sound of the ocean in a seashell.  freshly squeezed lemonade. loose clothing.  a cannonball into the pool.  sunflowers. the hazy pink before dusk.   relaxation.

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋.   the leaves changing colors.  a heavy backpack. the smell of old books. eating until you’re stuffed. deep, dark woods.   the silence in loudness ( the loudness in silence ).   abandoned houses.    ripped jeans. crunching leaves beneath feet.  feeling like you’ve been somewhere before.  sitting at a bay window. having endless amount of work.   charcoal drawings.  screaming into a pillow as loud as you can.    pumpkin patches. creaky floorboards.   accepting that some things do have to change.   museums.     small talk.   being ignored.  procrastinating.   a door slamming shut.   going to bed early.   baking pies.   the fear of walking alone in the dark. feeling completely and terribly lost.  a twig snapping. crisp, cool days.  belly laughter after crying.  converse. foggy mornings at the shoreline. writing a daily entry in a journal. a lonely day.

tagged by: stolen

“ No! I’ll do it! “ 

Maybe those words wouldn’t worry a stranger, but coming from Yor, perhaps it was better to hold caution. Something brand new that she set her mind to? Anyone who knew her should be ready to duck and cover. 

I used to think I'd be done by twenty

Now at twenty-nine, the road ahead appears the same

Though maybe at thirty, I'll see a way to change

That I'm living for the knife

I always thought the choice was mine

And I was right, but I just chose wrong

I start the day lying and end with the truth