When Alora, the princess of Vanahiem, and Loki, Prince of Asgard, start to realize their feelings for each other, will they admit it? Or ignore it till it explodes?
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters besides Alora. I do not own the cover...
The next week went by in bliss; just spending my time with Thor and Loki-watching sparring, between the brothers and the other warriors- painting, horse-back riding, reading, and just talking.
My first week on Asgard has been extremely delightful. I've enjoyed every second of it.
Loki and I haven't talked about our, almost, kiss. It hasn't been brought up, even through all our time when it's just the two of us. I'm starting to think I'm going crazy. Nothing has changed; except for the more than normal amount of side-eye glances and stares that I've received from Loki while doing anything. His stares are heavy, and I can feel its weight every time. WHile I'm painting, I will feel a sudden weight, and I know he's staring at me again. It's not entirely unusual for him to glance at me, but it's become more frequent.
Today is just another day, I'm still working on my blooming flower, and Loki is reading beside me. The sun is flooding into the room through the open windows. Drowning out any shadow to the corners of the room.
The baby blues, and pale yellows of the flower in front of me just drawing me in. I can feel that it's almost done. I can just feel it. That artist's instinct. Just a few more final details and a week of painting will be finished.
I lightly dip my smallest tipped brush into my palest yellow. Adding my final stroke to a plethora of slightly aged paint.
It's done.
"Loki, I finished," My voice is no louder than a whisper, tainted by hours of silence.
Loki stands, walking closer to me, "It's beautiful," his comment is just as low as mine. The silence has affected us both.
I still face my painting, and feel his chin rest on the top of my head. The full weight of his head bearing down on mine. And we stay like that; just embracing the feeling of each other's presence while we look at my painting.
Until he breaks the silence, "I think it might be your best work," his weight leaves as he starts towards the other side of the art room, disappearing behind one of the shelves.
He comes out from behind the shelf holding a canvas, the wooden frame facing me. I know what he's doing. He does this every time a new painting of mine is finished. He flips the canvas, revealing my last painting.
An abstract sky full of pinks, blues, purples, and oranges, a few birds scattered across the sky.
He was right, my flower is better than the birds and sky from my last trip.
"Do you know what you'll paint next?" My eyes flit from the painting to his eyes, his constant searching eyes.
"I think I need a break before I can start a new one," I snark back. Our green eyes never leave each other while we converse.
Eye contact is something we both value. It can reveal someone's true intentions. If their words are truth or lies. You can tell just about everything about a person from their eyes.
Loki sets the painting down, leaning against the shelf next to him. Briefly closing eye contact to make sure the painting is stable, before coming right back. He takes a slow step towards me; his eyes glancing down to my lips before quickly coming back to my eyes.
Not again.
If this happens again I don't think I'll be able to handle ignoring it.
Before I can process his steps, his lips are on mine, and my back is pressed against the wall behind me. He's eager, and his hands shoot to my jaw. I'm shocked, but melt into the kiss. My arms wrap around his neck as he continues kissing me. I enjoy this. More than I should. I've never kissed anyone; so when he's taking charge, I'm glad for it.
The kiss lasts, it feels like pure bliss and his lips dance with mine effortlessly. My arms tighten around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer to me. The feeling of his hands on my face fade as his hands slowly trail down to my hips.
It turns hesitant; held back. He pulls away.
The feeling of his lips disappear, leaving a lingering feeling on mine; telling me my lips are probably swollen. And the weight of his gaze is back, making me want to curl into myself to hide from the weight.
"What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?" self-doubt fills my senses. I didn't know what I was doing and it probably showed.
"No, no. It wasn't anything you did. This is my fault. This was a mistake. I'm sorry." There's panic in his voice; urgency. He's stressed and he combs his hand through his hair.
"Loki, what's wrong?" I try reaching for him; trying to ground him back to reality. He is so far gone in his thoughts he doesn't pay mind to it. Instead, he just pushes my hand away from him and hurriedly leaves the room. Leaves me just standing in the middle of the art room; hurt, confused, flustered, and a disheveled mess.
I use my seider to fix myself up. Getting rid of the red hotness in my face. The guards don't need to see me looking like I had just made-out with their prince. I leave the room, looking for someone. I'm not sure who I'm looking for, but I'm looking with intent. I suppose whoever I run into first will do.
At this point, tears are fighting to break down my face, but I have to fight them. Fighting tears has never been a strength, and I lose the battle quickly; tears streaming down my face. I guess I don't get to care how the guards see me, what will they do? In my flurry of tears and anger, I run into Frigga; literally. I couldn't see her through the tears.
"My child, what's wrong? What has happened?" Frigga was noticeably worried, and rightfully so. She just came across her 'daughter' looking a mess, crying, and in a heap of emotions.
"I shouldn't speak of it for other ears to hear. Let's go to my room, just down the hall," I choke out my words through sobs as Frigga starts leading me to my room. As we walk in, she leads me to my bed, and sits me down to go close the door; before sitting next to me, taking my hands in hers, setting them in my lap as my sobs slow to a stop.
"My dear, what's wrong?" Frigga tries to look in my eyes while she asks, but I can't look at her without the sobs breaking through again.
"It's Loki," my words are shaken and quiet.
"What has my idiot son done this time?" She tries to lighten the mood with her playful comment, but that's a hard mission when her son has just ruined me.
I've never thought highly of myself, always been self-conscious about every small detail of myself. With Loki's look of pure regret, I can feel myself starting to spiral.
I explain what happened, sobs breaking my speech. The more I explain, the more pissed Frigga starts to look.
"What is wrong with that boy?" Frigga shakes her head with her words; clearly irritated.
"Do you want me to give you some space?" I can't even form another coherent sentence so my reply is a simple nod. Frigga leaves, and I slightly curl into myself. Letting the spiral take me over.
Word Count:1293
A/N:
I keep forgetting to post, but I am writing every day.
I hope you guys liked this chapter.
Thank you for reading!
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