Infatuated with a God

Chapter Thirty-Six

TW / Self Harm

It seemed like everything, and nothing happened after that. I actively avoided everyone for a week as I collected my thoughts thinking it would help. It didn't. Nothing seemed to make sense in this situation. No matter how much time I spent trying to process everything that happened I just ended up more frustrated and confused. Instead, I tried to work through all the emotions I felt, but it was too complicated and messy to do so. It left me feeling like shit every time I tried. Knowing what was happening and causing my moods should have meant that it was easier to deal with. Tony would warn me when the machine was being turned on and I would try to lock myself in my room behind my shields. They did little to help the buzzing. One night at dinner Vision hypothesised that it had something to do with the sceptre, but it didn't bring us any closer to answers. In fact, any thing we found out only seemed to bring more questions than answers. Tony offered to disable Loki's cuff it would help, although I think it physically pained him to offer it. I wouldn't allow it. I couldn't. In fact, I just avoided Loki all together for a month. The closer we were the more panic and anger he seemed to incite in me, and it was driving me insane. At the beginning I tried to rationalise what was happening, but it was too conflicting and difficult to think about. All in all, I was a complete mess. I turned to training through the pain but my hours there were soon restrictive when the team worried I was falling back into old patterns. In a way I was, I didn't eat much as I couldn't stomach it. It got to the point where Tony, Steve and even Nat started forcing me to go to weekly check-ups. There was also lots of arguing. Steve demanded Tony stop working on the machine because it was making me ill, but I just told him that even with it off I felt the same. Plus, the longer he worked on it the quicker I could be free from Hydra's looming control.

When the doctor demanded I start taking fluids to get my calorie intake up I was completely locked out of the training room indefinitely. They were trying to help. Logically I knew this. It didn't stop me withdrawing from everyone in anger. With no training left to fill the void I found the usual itch on my arms to become unbearable. I'd been holding out of resorting to it. I had been so many months clean and a large part of me clung onto that. Soon, however, I found myself craving it. Like one would crave drugs if you had used it so freely only to force yourself off of them. I didn't like the thought that I could become addicted to such a thing. Not sure if it wasn't possible I tried to research it. Eventually finding some small space with people like me, full of trauma and unhealthy tips. Part of me knew it was dangerous to stay there, but I couldn't help myself. Eventually, I confided in alcohol. The burn of harsh spirits in my throat dulling the pain I felt in my head. Plus, it helped ease me. Then I began sneaking out. I could fly so it was relatively easy. I came across a club full of screaming music and alcohol, finding my place there with ease. I made myself become numb to the pain and anger. Numb to the memories and emotions that had begun swirling around my head constantly. I completely lost myself in a never ending stretch of alcohol and music. Soon I tried to fill the void with people as well. Random men and woman who's thoughts were loud enough for me to hear. It was easy and, as I told myself, healthier than anything else. I had to keep telling myself that. Whenever I would pick up another drink or fall into the arms of some stranger I had to tell myself that it was helping. It wasn't long before I told myself the same thing with a dagger in my hand and blood running down my arm.

The calories from the alcohol had provided me enough substance that the doctor took me off of fluids, although she was still concerned about me. I would fake a smile, the mouthwash covering the smell of vodka, and pretend I was getting better. People seemed to buy into it. Or at least they pretended they did for the most part. But there always seemed to be green eyes on me. He had made his presence around the communal spaces more known, and it felt like whenever I was there he would be too. Never alone but always watching me while pretending to do something else. I didn't allow myself to care, lost in the perfect emptiness I created. The bitter March air clung to my exposed legs that night as I brought a woman back to the compound. I couldn't remember her name, nor did I actually care enough to. She would be gone in the morning and tomorrow someone else would be in her place. I didn't need to know their names. I led over her on my sofa, my hands groping at her soft breasts, when the door flew open.

"Would you turn that awful noise down!" A green flare shot towards my stereo cutting off the angry music we had been enjoying. The woman shot up and grabbed her shirt in embarrassment and I just leant back with a sigh. She seemed to recognise who it was in my room now, and terror spread over her. With an annoyed groan I grabbed her some cash for a taxi, and she was on her way.

"Thanks a lot." I muttered when I heard the elevator doors close.

I swayed slightly as I stood and walked over to the almost empty vodka bottle on the table and downed the rest of it. It fell with a pleasant clang onto the pile that had accumulated the past month. I noticed my door softly close as I walked to grab a fresh one. Warm hands covered mine as I went to open it.

"I think you've had quite enough this past month, don't you?" His words weren't angry but not particularly calm. I was far too gone to care enough to figure out his emotions. Hell, I could barely place my own. I tried to ignore him and open it anyway, but he just vanished it away, along with the rest of the contents of the cupboard. Too tired to argue I went to retrieve them back but found that I had been locked out of the subspace. I whined at him when a realisation broke through my drunken state.

"Wait how are you able to do that?" He sighed and practically dragged me across the room and towards the bed.

"You really haven't paid any attention this past month have you?" His words were lost on me as I became acutely aware of where he was dragging me. "I don't know how any of the idiots here have failed to notice that you've been drinking and fucking your life away for the past few weeks." His words were harsh as they left his tongue and in my drunkenness I mistook them for something other than concern.

"So that's why you have been so attentive. Are you jealous, my prince? Jealous that I've found other people to fuck the anger out of me?" His eyes seemed to darken as his pupils diluted.

All common sense seemed to have left me and I pressed my body against his and ran my nails down his arms.

"Could it be that you wished I had gone to you to show me how to left off some steam?" He had stiffened underneath me but did not move me away from him. I pushed him backwards with seiðr and he fell onto the bed.

"Kaya..." He warned but I didn't acknowledge them. I climbed over to straddle him. His hands moved to my hips and gently tried to push them off but not with the amount of strength he knew he needed. Leaning forward, I pressed my chest into his body and brought my tongue up his neck before whispering in his ear.

"How about it, Mischief? Would you like to fuck me so hard you ruin all other men for me?" He groaned as I pressed myself onto his groin and moved over his hardening cock. Then he pushed me off and I was left wanting. Even in my drunken state I could tell that this was more than ignoring the pain and anger, that I craved this in a way I didn't with anyone I had been with this month. He pushed me off of him with ease and sat up. His posture had stiffened once again and, undeterred, I got up onto my knees and wrapped my arms around him. My fingers found the waistband of his trousers and I tried to get my fingers underneath the fabric. His hands found mine and forced them to be still.

"Not like this Kaya. Not when you are this drunk and can barely acknowledge your own actions. And not when you are running from your pain." I sulked at his rejection and retreated back, resting my back against my headboard, and crossing my arms in frustration. He laughed at my reaction but came to lie down besides me. His hand brushed some hair off of my cheek and I sighed at the contact, craving the platonic intimacy.

"Don't sulk, pet. One day soon I will take you and make you mine. But you need to break out of this self-destructive cycle of yours. I've been there, so trust me when I say that nothing good can come from masking your feelings with booze and sex." I saw a wave of green seiðr flow from his fingers and wrap around me. I should have been worried, but I grew too tired to care. I leant down in my bed and curled up into his side, using the part of his chest as a pillow. I noticed the soft gentle chuckle in the air as sleep came closer and closer. There was a slight pressure to my head, so faint I thought I must have imagined it. Then a soft gentle voice lulled me into slumber.