Tom Hiddleston and Loki Imagines - Bk. 1

Loki - Lonely Phantoms

        "WHAT THE REALM?!" you hear, accompanied by a book hurtling past your face.  You had been walking from your room to the living room while simitaneously reading The Storyteller.  Thank goodness you had stopped right before the book went flying; not only would it have been a concussion in itself, but you'd rather not have a bunch of paper cuts all over your face.

        Hearing the smashing of glass, you enter into the room to your left, where the book had been thrown from.  You duck as a lamp comes flying towards your face, and you hear the porcelain shatter against the wall.  A small but silent giggle escapes your lips as Loki flops on the bed, buries his head in his pillow, and kicks his feet.

        "You know," you speak up, Loki lifting up his head, "I have to pay for this damage."

        "Well, (Y/N), you shouldn't keep such depressing books in the house," he says, sitting up and folding his arms.

       "Well, that's why you shouldn't snoop around in my room and take books out my bookcase.  There's a whole separate one in the living room."

        He lets out a defeated groan.  You turn around and pick up the novel that was causing his emotional reaction.  The Phantom of the Opera.

        "Can't say that I'm not surprised."  You turn back to him.  "Your thoughts?"

        "That author is evil and twisted!  First Christine and Roul end up together, then Erik's never had a mother's love, but then he dies alone!"  You sit on the bed next to him.

        "I know you're in a lot of pain right now, but it's kind of cute to see you fangirling."  With another loud groan, he flops onto his back, his movement bouncing you on the bed.

        "You aren't helping, (Y/N)," he replies in a harsh tone.  You rub his stomach, and, calmer, he looks up at you.

        "Listen, at the end of the day, you can close the book.  The memory, yes, is still there, and the characters still can be so alive and real, but the story is only--"

        "Imaginary?" Loki finishes, sitting up.  He looks at you with soft, but hardened, eyes.  "(Y/N), you don't understand.  That story was essentially my life in a flash.  Don't you see?  I never truly had my father's acceptance and love.  The way that I am separates me from the rest of Asgard.  I'm a lonely phantom, (Y/N)."  He sighs, looks at your lap, then back into your eyes.  "Do you know how hard and scary it is to see your life on a page, being sold by the millions, being called a classic tragedy?"  Your eyes fall, and your hand caresses his cheek.

        "But do you want to know the difference between you and Erik?"

        "People feel sympathy for him?  He didn't destroy New York?  He's from Earth and not of a completely different realm?  Sweetheart, I can go all day."  You shake your head and push a lock of his hair behind his ear.

        "No, none of those things.  Think harder."  He looks deep into your (e/c) eyes before kissing them shut.

        "I see, my pet," he whispers, holding onto the hand that touches his face.

        "I want to see you."  He chuckles lightly.

        "But you are seeing me, love."

        "No," you whisper.  His smile diminishes.  "The hidden you."

        He sighs again.  "Very well."  Instantly, his skin turns cold, becoming an icy blue, and his eyes glow crimson.  You let your hands run through his hair and down his shoulders and arms and back into his hands.  You wanted to say the next three words for a more special time, for a more romantic time, for a time when you had built up the confidence and worked your nerves repeatedly as to not waiver in your voice and to not yield back out of shyness, but he needed to hear them now more than ever.

        "I love you."  Loki chuckles, not believing his Jotun ears, for you had said it quietly.

        "What was that, (Y/N)?"

        "Please, it's already hard enough to say it once."

        "Hard to tell me because of what I am?"

        "No, because of who you are.  Because of how important you are to me."  He holds your hand tighter and kisses the back of it as he pulls you closer.

        "Then say it again."  You look up into his dark, burning red eyes.  "It's all I ask of you."

        He turns around and takes out a rose.  You smile as he hands it to you.  As you look from the rose to him, you realize that he has turned back into his Asgardian form, save a portion of his face to resemble the phantom mask.

        "You totally planned this out, didn't you?"

        "Only this part, not the whole thing.  I just needed to calm down from finishing the book.. But you, my dear, are stalling."  Teasing him, you bite your lip, biding yout time further.  Seeing this, clenching his jaw, Loki pulls you as close as he can, a sliver of spaces between your lips.

        "Say you love me," he whispers even quieter.

        "You know I do, Loki."

        "No.  Say it, exactly as you did before.  Just those three.  I need to hear them ringing in my ears."  You bring up your head by his ear, you feeling his breath against the base of your neck and onto your collarbone.

        "I'll always love you," you whisper back, a playful smile breaking onto your face.

        "Rebel," Loki responded as he kissed and nipped the underside of your jaw.

        "You'll always be my lonely phantom."