Chapter 18 - Are you scared yet?

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"What's your favourite book then?" Silence had exceeded its comfortability, instead your original mission was reminded in the form of his book shelf.

"Why would it matter?"

"Just wondering... with all these books, there must be a favourite, right?" You ponder, gesturing around to each spine. They were worn but not ruined, reread over and over as if the escape was constant. An escape from this world.

"Hm, well I suppose anything by Rajmagarfen," (people who have read Loki: Where mischief lies will know who this is lol)

"Mhm, right, I'll pretend I know who that is," you tap your temple. "How about favourite food?"

"Why are you asking all these questions??" He huffs, glaring your way. "We have a test, a large portion of our grade and you're asking me what my favourite dish is??"

You sat silently, staring at him blankly, "I actually said food not dish."

"Unbelievable," he smacks his head with the notebook, noticing the nearly set sun. "I'm going to fail this test, fail this class, end up doing extra work when I could be on Asgard once again," his words seemed to fizzle into the air like white noise. "Are you even listening to me??"

Eyes finally coming into focus, you give a simple, "no."

"Then leave my room,"

"Nah, your bed is really comfy, and I just love annoying you," kicking off your shoes, you cross your legs to settle further, watching him do the same in his desk chair.

"Is that all you love to do? Or is being clueless about who you're flirting with another thing?" he mutters, peeling away another page to ink down word after word.

"Hey!" Loki grins softly at your shout. "Me flirting is one thing, you flirting back is another," you counter.

His head snaps up, chair swiveling a bit too much causing him to awkwardly shift back to you. "Whatever you're implying-"

"I'm not implying anything," you lay back, noticing the faint pencil marking on the ceiling. They formed what seemed to be a tree, constellations of all sorts scattered the further towards the room edge you follow.

Loki hardly missed this, one leg rested over the other, chewing on his pen with narrowed eyes on you. He studied the way your hands rested against his pillows, head tilted back and to the side. Knot in his stomach, he swallows a lump in his throat once he catches his imagination drifting.

"Is that Jotunheim?" A small desolated looking planet was left at the edge of the tree, hardly given any thought. The words were faded, writing hardly as neat as the other labels as the mountain like structures scribbled on then erased over and over.

"It is..."

"Not a fan are you?" pushing back your hair, you decidedly stand to peer closer.

"Of savage beasts? No, can't say I am," his reflection stayed mocking from the mirror mounted on the wall.

"Wow, compliment them more, I'm sure the Frost Giants would be flattered," leaping off the edge, you land right by him. "Come on, Loki, try and be nicer, I'm sure they're tired of being mistreated,"

"They are treated as they should be," he hears a small huff from you, "what? you think differently?" Somehow the night had come about, Loki moving his lamp up to the drawings for you to see clearer.

"Yeah, actually," one of the four posters felt your weight, arms folding, "if you're going to become a king then you should at least try to act like you don't hate an entire realm. I mean what's so bad about them? They're ice pop versions of Smurfs, so what?"

He watches your head keep tilted up. "So what?" he couldn't believe his ears, "they're killers. Horrible, atrocious beings deserving of nothing. They should stay isolated knowing no being loves them,"

"Hey, shut up," you glare at him. "They're living beings, they have feelings,"

"Murderous killers. What nightmares are made of," he stood up, the light from his desk lamp hardly lighting up his figure now. Orange hued outlines of his silhouette casted a shadow along half your face. "You find them reasonable, wait until you see one right in front of you,"

Your heart was beating faster in fear, "Loki... what the hell are you-"

"You'll run in fear, L/n, they always do," his voice was darkening, nothing but pure shadow on his face as your legs trip over one another.

Hitting the bed, you try to prop yourself up, one hand even held up to stop whatever attack he had planned. "Loki, I swear- back the hell up,"

"Why? Are you scared yet?" Then there it was, the drop in temperature, flash of crimson red eyes. "Are you ready to beg for mercy?" Grabbing one wrist then the other, he pins you down against the bed until his blue tinted face was lit up by a ray of light.

Frozen, like frost creeping up the bed posts, your lips were sealed shut, eyes wide in pure shock. Those gems of red bore into you, waiting for the reaction that most had.

"Go ahead..." he leans closer, "yell for help, scream... call me a m-" Loki felt his blue ears heat up a fiery red at the sudden contact.

Gentle but eager, he felt your warm skin against his, a film of contrasting temperatures fighting subtly. Slightly breathless between you both, with your hand tangling in his hair, he lifted one leg against his side.

"Just shut up," you finally say with a small laugh which Loki shares, his smile merging into the soon resumed kiss.

Pushing you further against the mattress, he feels the tug at his shirt, fabric bunching up in your hands. As he feverishly moves to your neck, balancing on the one knee between your thighs, he curls his fingers under the hem of his shirt.

Just as his shirt was tossed to the side, there was a small knock followed by the immediate opening of the door.

~~~

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