Life with Loki - short stories

Into My Arms, Oh Sweet Valentine

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Summary: Sometimes, one is so touch-starved that they don't believe they enjoy touch. Sometimes, one is so romance-starved that they don't believe they are romantic.
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He heard the front door open, and then your sweet gasp of surprise. He heard your loving lips call his name. He knew his darling was home. His love.

Loki remained quiet and kept his place where he was standing in the large open area of his apartment that was both his lounge and dining area. He had asked you to come over after you had finished work, to which of course you said yes. You spent a lot of time at your boyfriend's apartment, —he detested that title, he preferred to be known and titled as your partner— you spent so much time there, you even had a wee draw. Your drawer to hold your daily essentials for when you stayed overnight.

As you opened the front door, you saw the entryway dimmed, the only light being flickering candlelight. At your feet was a continual path of red rose petals, leading you beyond through the next doorway. You truly could not believe your eyes as you followed the rosepetal pathway to see him there. He was the centre point, covered in his rich full black suit that you had already torn off numerous times with your teeth. The gorgeous centre point he was, within the large space that was filled with a sea of rich red roses, with candles occupying most surfaces.

"Oh... my... Loki? What is all this?".

The look across your face was worth it. How could you not believe he would do such a thing for you? You sweet, sweet girl. His darling love who never believed she deserved any gesture as such. His heart had torn when you had revealed you didn't celebrate Valentine's day and that you didn't intend to as you weren't much of a romantic.

Bullshit— he thought. You were the most romantic person he knew. You just pretended you weren't. Loki couldn't believe it. You, who to him, was, the Goddess of Love herself. How could you choose not to celebrate this day?

"Happy Valentines Day my darling girl". He held his hand out to you as yous stepped closer to him. He pulled you in for a gentle, lingering kiss as he cupped your cheeks with his large hands.

"You didn't have to do this Lo".

"Nonsense my sweet love. I know you proclaim to not be much of a romantic, but I don't believe that for a second". He placed delicate kisses all over your face as his palms kept their embrace over your cheeks. You attempted to protest, which he did not tolerate.

"My darling. In truth, I think you are the most romantic person I have ever known. I just think you're not used to such gestures? And why I think this is because I see you. I had to stop you from renting that shop we saw for lease last week, didn't I?  You fell in love with that shop because of the particular style of windows that you loved. You fall in love with songs and have mini affairs with them. Playing them on repeat, the same song ten times in a row. You are a true romantic".

"Sorry". You laughed into his lips as you knew how frustrating he would find it when you would loop the same song on repeat. But that was something about you that he secretly adored.

"Not to mention the emotions you go through when you are reading a story and the lovers are torn apart throughout the pages and then find their way back together. I see these things about you, my dear. You have the biggest heart and you love to love. And I love you, beyond words, beyond any form of expression. You deserve this my darling, at least. And I damn any of your previous lovers who did not make effort for you on this day of love in the past. I damn anyone who made no effort for you, resulting in you believing you are not a romantic—

You pushed your lips against his. There was only so much love you could take, as you were still getting used to having such an attentive, affectionate, loving, partner as Loki. He understood. He remembered how long it took for you to let him do the simplest romantic gesture for you. But he wanted to do so much for you. He wanted to give you the world. And you were letting him — bit by bit.

"I love you, Loki. This— you, are so beautiful. Thank you for doing this, baby". His thumbs wiped the tears away from your soft cheeks. You were so moved by such a gesture. This was nothing compared to what he wanted to give you— but this already meant so much to you.

"I love you, my darling girl".

After a few more intimate kisses, he guided you to the table, where he had your favourites meals from your favourite restaurant he had arranged earlier. You ate and laughed together —and played footsies under the table— and it took every bit of self-control within you not to jump across the table and tear that suit off him once again.

After the food had vanished, Loki stood and pulled you up with him as he hit play on his phone. He knew you loathed dancing as you were convinced you were terrible and had no rhythm whatsoever. That was something else he couldn't believe. You were so naturally rhythmic to him. There was no slither of light that could fit between the pair of you, as your bodies were glued to each other. His lips rested on your forehead as your fingers laced his. His song choice was perfect as the two of you swayed together.

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I don't believe in an interventionist God
But I know, darling, that you do
But if I did I would kneel down and ask Him
Not to intervene when it came to you
Not to touch a hair on your head
To leave you as you are
And if He felt He had to direct you
Then direct you into my arms

Into my arms, O Lord
Into my arms, O Lord
Into my arms, O Lord
Into my arms

And I don't believe in the existence of angels
But looking at you I wonder if that's true
But if I did I would summon them together
And ask them to watch over you

Into my arms, O Lord
Into my arms, O Lord
Into my arms, O Lord
Into my arms
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Loki soon danced you over towards the fireplace where layed a large fur blanket. A bowl of strawberries and a bottle of chilled champagne placed to the side of the soft fur. The two of you slowly removed each others clothes. Lovingly slow.

The remainder of the night of Valentine was spent with tasting each other, feeling each other, and making beautiful love in front of the warming flames. Afterwards, you fed each other the chocolate-covered strawberries, and then made love once again, as he whispered in your ear — asking you to move in with him.

Elated with deep pleasure and significant love — and the exhilaration of agreeing to move in with him— the two of you fell asleep, wrapped within each other's arms.

"Happy Valentines, my love".

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Note: I essentially wrote this for myself. I've only just accepted recently that I am indeed a romantic. (I can hear my younger self gagging). Don't forget to love yourselves first. Happy Valentine's Day, my sweets.
Love Lucy xx
Ps: Blog launch later today!! Yay
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