Tom Hiddleston and Loki Imagines - Bk. 1

Tom - Masquerade

        "Okay, so I arrived.  Can I go home now?"

        "Why are you such a party pooper?" Jessica asked as she took your hand, dragging you up the stairs.  You groan.  Of all the places you wanted to be on a Friday night during shark week, this was not one of them.  A masquerade ball, surrounded by people you don't know parading around with masks on their unknown faces -- this was only a tempting invitation to have a screaming match if something went down, especially since there was a ninety percent chance you would never see these people again.

        And who did you have to thank for this miserable evening?  Your best friend, Tom Hiddleston, who was nowhere to be found. This only made your temper rise.

        "He invites me, and he doesn't even show up!"

        "I'm sure he'll turn up eventually. Besides, everyone here is wearing a mask."

        "You can stil tell who's who.  Eye color, hair color and type, facial features, height, body structure."

        "Ms. Chastain," a gentleman voiced, tapping Jessica's shoulder. You both turned around, face to face with two young men, both blonde, but one of them greying.  You had recognized the voice, the appearance of it confirming your thoughts.

        "Hello Mr. Windsor." 

        "Hi Luke."  Luke bowed to both of you, really getting into character.

        "Tom sends his apologies.  He's gotten the flu."

        "And he didn't tell us?  And you're not taking care of him?!"

        "Well, he didn't want you to miss this opportunity," he explains.  "Plus, Jess called me for backup."  You shoot her a dirty look and she laughs.

        "You're so stubborn sometimes."  They start to proceed up the staircase and into the ballroom, leaving you bewildered and agitated.

        "If it's any consolation," says a voice you don't recognize, "I think you're right."  You turn around, now noticing that the greying blonde had remained.  You fold your arms and tilt your head as you gave him a questioning look.

        "What do you mean?"

        "About taking care of your friend.  All three of them should know better."

        "If I swing by his place, he's going to crawl out of bed, get dressed, and escort me here himself and infect everyone."

        "Then I guess we better get up there then," the man says, offering you a bent elbow.  You smile.

        "I don't company with strangers."

        "Oh, we are not strangers, (Y/N)."  Your eyebrow raises as your hand takes his elbow.  He leads you both up the stairs.

        "Hmm.  Well played.  So where do I know you from?"

        "That is for you to figure out, my dear," the man replies as you enter into the room.

        You had to admit, the room was beautiful.  The golden walls illuminated with candlelight and chandeliers. The moonlight shone through the tall windows, the stars shining through the door leading outside to the garden.  All the women wore floor lengths gowns, the men tuxedos, and everyone wore their best masquerade masks, from the most simple and sophisticated to the most intricate and over the top.  Even the quartet, performing from the far left corner, wore plain white masks, as if lonely phantoms of the room watching the people perform and dance.