Loki's Therapist (Loki x reader)

Chapter 5-- Someone Like Him

Normal POV

You are crying. No, you shouldn’t be doing this: you cannot show Loki you are weak or he will never look up to you or do what you say. He will never see you as an authority figure.

But you cannot help it. You were old enough when your mother died to have a real attachment to her: you were so similar, and you could have discussions for hours on end about nothing in particular. You loved her cooking, you loved her smile: you loved her. And then, in an instant, she was gone. Dead by the hands of a murderer and thief who did not get want he wanted.

It has been a while since then; a long time. But you still miss her and still grieve at moments, perhaps once every seven of eight months it will hit you hard. It looks like you are grieving now, in front of the person you mustn’t seem weak to.

You bend down over your sewing, trying to hide your tears. You do not sob. You never have. You just let tears run down your face.

One tear, clear as crystal, runs down your cheek and drops into your work, the salt water slightly staining the fabric. You keep working, waiting for Loki to sneer or scoff.

However, you feel stiff arms wrap around your sitting position. You look up to see Loki standing and making an attempt to hug you. Maybe it’s okay that you’re crying.

He probably just needs people to stop being so strong around him. He just needs someone to feel emotions the same way he tries not to. He needs someone to feel the emotions he sees everyone else masking and not feeling.

He needs someone like him.

You hug him back as best you can. You look up at him, not at all surprised to find his face slightly bemused and shocked. Someone is caring back for once.

You break off the hug and look straight up into his eyes.

‘Thanks, Loki,’ you say kindly. ‘I needed that.’

*

Loki’s POV

She cried in front of me. She actually cried in front of me, I think, hours after she left.

She showed emotion. No one ever does. Everyone always is stony cold and strong, completely comfortable in themselves. All of them act like my anger and sadness are defects, things different. It has always just made me feel more misunderstood.

But here is a warrior. An avenger. An accomplice of my brother. Opening up to me, repairing my furniture, helping to put me back together.

Maybe it isn’t just a punishment. Maybe she... actually cares.  Maybe there is good in me somewhere, just like she says.

WHAT AM I THINKING?

I am Loki, God of Mischief and Lies. I am evil, I am vengeful. I am unforgiving and cold and unfeeling, and I will not be grateful. And I will never accept the help of a simple avenger.

But... as much as I hate it...I think I already have.

I spread out my recently repaired duvet and examine the tiny, well-placed stitches that now run like veins all over it. I run my fingers over the rows and rows and rows of the stitches.

I am evil, yes. But my desire for vengeance is leaving me. I am grateful. I have accepted the help of an avenger.

I lie down and pull the blanket over me, feeling warm again. I smile and then frown.

I can just picture my brother’s smug face.

A/N: What are you talking about? This chapter wasn't short, no... Well, yes it was. Sorry about the long wait for the update and then just this little filler chapter. I think I'll wrap this book up soon and start a different fanfic: another loki x reader, a book of oneshots, mabe a sherlock x reader? Anyway, hope you're enjoying the story and if you are, don't forget to vote and comment and add to reading list and recommend etc etc etc

Hope you're all well :)

-Christula