My War Is Over (Original Unfinished Version)

Chapter Twenty-One

The sunlight, very soft and quite filtered by the just barely opened curtains of Loki's room, is what ultimately rises Tony from a dreamless sleep. The process of awakening by natural human causes is so foreign to him that it takes Tony several long seconds of drowsy confusion to realize where he is. He can't remember the last time he has awoken in peace and not some form of panic, whether it be the ghostly horrors of his nightmares or his seemingly undefeatable case of insomnia disturbing his slumber. With that knowledge, Tony lets out a little sigh and relaxes into the pillows, a tension he hadn't realized he'd been holding draining from his body. 

In all honesty, there was a large part of him that had not expected Loki to stay, or perhaps, was simply bracing himself for the possibility of an empty bed and cold sheets. Tony would like to think that he wouldn't have cared much at all, or rather, wouldn't have been hurt if Loki had left sometime during the night. But deep down he knows that isn't true; he would have cared. It feels like it's taken so long for Loki to finally start to really open up, but he is now. He's beginning to heal. Tony can't help but feel like they're closer somehow. If not for Loki opening up a bit and confessing painful parts of his past, then from their ghostly kiss still sending little tingles of bliss across Tony's lips. 

Or really most of all, from how Loki had let Tony cradle his shaking body to his chest in a time of pure vulnerability. They're closer, Tony can feel it. 

But, Tony also knows that Loki might not realize that at first. Or ever. He knows what it feels like, the raw, naked feeling of exposure. Of someone else knowing your deepest darkest secrets. The fear and risk of laying yourself out as who you are, letting someone in, all with the possibility that they might turn their back on you at any given second; and leave you even more broken than before. Tony himself hasn't even defeated that fear. So if Loki had run, Tony might have been hurt, but he would have understood.

But he hadn't run. Loki's skinny frame is still pressed up against Tony's own, his raven black hair falling like an angelic halo around his face, tucked into the crook of Tony's arm. He really does look like an angel, but especially when he's sleeping. His eyes are shut softly, his expression devoid of the harsh creases of anxiety or the persistent sadness it seems to always carry. He just looks peaceful. 

"Shh," Tony murmurs, brushing his fingers through Loki's hair very gently when the god stirs slightly. He can't get enough of Loki's long hair, how soft it feels in his fingers, how it frames his face just perfectly, how it defines the sharpness of his cheekbones when it's braided up. Loki shifts, turning his head to the side and blinking owlishly up at Tony's face. 

"Morning, Snowflake," Tony murmurs, giving the sleepy god a soft smile. 

"Morning?" Loki asks, confusion painting his slightly hoarse voice. 

"Yeah, slept through the night. Weird to you too, eh?" Loki nods. 

"Very. I-I can't remember the last time I have slept in peace." 

"Me neither," Tony murmurs, continuing to brush Loki's hair with his fingers. Loki closes his eyes, pressing his face into Tony's arm a bit further. 

"Can we just stay here? For a little bit?" He whispers, an almost pleading tone to his words. "I-I feel...safe." 

"Yeah, yeah of course we can, sugar," Tony whispers back. 

When he opens his eyes again, the sunlight is a bit brighter, and Loki looks slightly more alert than before. There are still shaded shadows under his eyes, which are less droopy but still exhausted-looking, but his face isn't so pale and there's a bit of spark to his green orbs. He stares back at Tony. 

"Morning," this time it's Loki who speaks, a slight quirk to his lips. Tony grins in full-force. 

"Dork. I'm hungry, are you hungry? I'm thinking pancakes? But whatever you want, princess, don't want ya to get sick of pancakes. That would be a crime." Loki rises, albeit slightly reluctantly, from his curled-up position against Tony's side, rubbing his eyes and attempting to push stubborn hair back from his eyes. Tony chuckles and takes the dark locks in his hands, pulling them back into a messy bun tied low on his head.