Your Way Out

Bitter Sweet Sugar Cookies

"Try to get him to talk about his brother," Agent Hanna said. 

She was a lean and strong woman, maybe five years older than me. She wore an athletic S.H.I.E.L.D. suit, navy blue, and form fitting. It was a mix between armor and sportswear. Something breathable, but could take a hit if something went wrong. Her rusted brunette hair was slicked back and assembled into a tight bun on the back of her head. With a device wedged into her ear and a gun on her hip, she was threatening. Most agents did. Walking along side her, I didn't understand why I was the one going into Loki's cell and not her. She was much more intimidating. She could probably take him in a fight. 

Agent Hanna flipped through her dossier as we travelled down the empty hallway. Loki was kept deep beneath the base. A hundred layers of alloy and metal, a dozen floors with security protocols to subdue him, and enough people with guns to make up a militia. So many flags telling me he was a villain, yet I allowed him to just saunter into my mind. 

I still wasn't certain what happened in my dream was real. Perhaps I really did conjure an imaginary Loki. One who was just as cunning and sarcastic. A fictional trickster that made me second guess my own sanity. The answer lied behind a thick metal door and a couple dozen locks. 

His gaze was fixated on me from the moment I walked in. Loki was sitting at the white plastic table provided by S.H.I.E.L.D. It was the type of table I remember playing board games on with my family. I dropped the file down on the textured surfaced and glanced at the cameras around the room. If I came out and asked him about last night, there wasn't a chance I could get away with it. They'd hear it and know something was wrong. They'd probably take me away. Any chance of getting information peacefully would tumble down the drain.

I sat down on the chair across from him. A hundred different words swirled through my head. I sat there pondering how to tether them together to make a cohesive code. Something clever enough to hint at last night without seeming obvious to security. We sat in silence. Too much silence.

"Did you sleep well last night?" Loki chimed.

I peered up from the closed file. He had a soft smile on his face. The bags under his eyes were slowly filling with his natural skin tone. His question caught me off guard.

"Fine. I slept fine, thank you," I replied with a flustered smile. "I did have a strange dream though."

Loki leaned forward and placed his arms on the table. I could smell the leather from his extravagant Asgardian outfit. The woodsy scent he gave off naturally. Coffee and mahogany. Refined and brazen.   

"What a coincidence. So did I," he replied. 

He rested his face in his hand and began thumbing the side of his cheek. He felt the outside of his cheek bone and traced a line down to his bottom lip. As if he was fidgeting. It seemed more like a message. 

"Perhaps we had similar dreams." 

"That would be a funny thing, wouldn't it?" Loki smirked with assured confidence. 

I couldn't process the reality of the situation. It was like my brain frantically put up a wall in order to keep me from having a nervous breakdown. What hell had I opened myself up to?

"I must thank you. Whatever you did yesterday truly fixed my burst of insomnia. I don't think I've slept that well in a century." Loki stretched, leaning back in his chair, and relaxing with his arms folded behind his head. "Honestly, I can't wait to do it again tonight."

The room was suddenly filled with a quick burst of heat. I felt like I was standing in front of a bonfire. It radiated off of Loki. It was pleasing warmth. Flirtatious and hedonic. For a moment, I felt joy. Whether it was genuine or animalistic, I couldn't be sure. Maybe it was both. His eyes gleamed like a hawk about to dive for its prey.