Trust my rage (Loki x Reader)

Chapter 14 - The Note

The note, that you held with your fingertips, tracing the edges of what used to be a tree. You felt a tiny piece of your skin scrape into a painful white line at the touch of the paper, delivering a sting to your finger. The small worn out note, smelled like coffee. Like it had been purposely dipped into dark coffee to give an intimidating tone. The note contained fingerprints of blood, the blood was smudged onto the little paper. On the front side of the note, in a simple average font said, "I'm watching you", with smudged blood on it's cover. You flipped the paper, exposing the other side. There was more words.

"Y/n, lady of Asgard. Daughter of Freya and Tyr.
...
Living in a big lie.
...
Your crimes will not go unpunished."

The words were hand written, it had little curves on the end of each letter. It was unreadable to an extent.  You wondered at the sight of each letter. Who is Freya and Tyr? My real mother's name is Frida. Nothing on the note made any sense.

The only thing that really lit a spark in your brain was the fact that it was planted in your mothers blanket. Someone had been in here, someone had lifted the blanket, someone with malicious intent. The blood stain surely wasn't being any consolation to your unpleasant thoughts.

Either way, you weren't going to let it slide. Someone's after you, someone knows too much.

You'd come up with a plan, they were most likely going to return. You had to lure them out. You went scavenger hunting around your apartment, to look for any pen or marker. To your inconvenience, there was none.

"Hey Friday, is there any chance you could call Steve? And maybe, ask him to bring a pen?"

"May I ask why before contacting Steve?"

"I like drawing, and i'm bored."

"Contacting Steve."

Too easy. All you had to do now was wait for Steve to show up with a pen. You sat on your couch, staring intensely at the worn out paper in the palms of your hands.  This time, you were focused on the blood.

Who's blood is that? And what was the purpose of smudging it? It was smudged in a way that there was no fingerprint left. Apart from that, you had to start thinking of a plan to lure this person out.

Maybe you could hint at something? Like a meeting place. In the form of poetry, but there was one problem. How could you put it in the same text without it being super obvious?

Before you could think of an answer, you were interrupted by the door knocking. You quickly rolled off the couch, hiding the note under a pillow. You sprinted to the door, as you stood behind the door you quickly fixed yourself up to cover suspicion.

You brushed your hands through your hair quickly, leaned on the door frame and fixed your voice.

"Come in."

You heard the hinges of the door crack, the smell of paint overwhelmed the atmosphere. Your eyes widened at the sight of Steve holding big crafts boxes. The boxes had paint, texters, pens, pencils, practically everything an artist would want and need.  You could only see Steve through his left eye, as all the boxes of paint and paper were blocking the view.

"May I come in?" He asked.

You could sense the awkwardness just through his left eye. His eyebrows fluttered in a way to show he was smiling, but his eyes crooked in a way to show embarrassment.

"Yep." Was all you replied with. You took some of the papers that blocked the view of his face, then gestured him to follow you into the living room. You made sure to sit down specifically where the note was hidden, avoiding any risk of it being exposed.