The Fates' Favorite (Loki Laufeyson)

Part 23

Loki's POV (Third Person)

The dream had started so normally for Loki, the feeling of her in his arms making it easy for his mind to recreate the exact scene for his unconscious self.

Asgard's gardens, the feeling of her warm skin against his own cool body, the feeling of her hair tickling lightly against his throat as her back pressed tightly to his chest. He refused to let his mind wander further onto the way the sun kissed her skin and allowed it a mesmerizing glow, the way the blush English roses seemed to match the pink that flushed her cheeks every time she genuinely laughed.

Then, as quickly as her touch faded from his skin, the nightmare began.

It wasn't completely unusual, for Loki's subconscious to push the same memories to his mind without that soft touch. He hated it, hated the lack of control he had over his own mind, yet no matter how many times he argued within himself that it was a dream, it never settled the impending fear.

The Titan's face, the chains, the burning. It was vivid, a lucid dream that he couldn't wake from as he recounted the tortures inflicted upon him.

That was until a soft hand rested on his cheek, her thumb running gently across his jaw line in a way that made him suppress a whimper.

And when his eyes finally did open, the dream fading back into the back of his mind, Aurora's concerned features looked back at him.

"You alright, Mischief?"

He nearly had to stop himself from grabbing her tighter, though his hands, seeming to have a mind all their own, did grasp her hips and slide her closer to him. Her hair was damp, and the lack of an excited puppy told him he had not only slept in, but that he had also slept well-passed the dark haired enchantress.

"I'm sorry, I should've gone to my room by now." He said with a clear of his throat, though he made no attempt to move.

In any other circumstance, he left before sunrise. If he somehow managed to weasel his way into Aurora's bed, normally by 'accidentally' falling asleep while spending time with her, Loki always made sure to be in his own bed by the time Thor and the others rose for the day.

Today seemed to be different. He vaguely remembered Aurora asking him to watch a Midgardian show with her, he remembered laying in her bed with both her and Shadow, the way she seemed almost anxious though they'd been in the same bed together dozens of times.

Oh, norns. It was because he'd been drinking. Damn Thor and his thievery of Odin's good whiskey. Of course it was. She likely didn't want him in her bed at all within the clouds of alcohol.

Her sweet voice, honey dripping from her each and every word, cut his thoughts down the middle as she smiled.

"It's okay. You probably needed the sleep." She giggled, and Loki couldn't help but smile at the blush pink that rose to her cheeks because of it.

"I wasn't bad off."

"No; not at all." Aurora teased, sarcasm dripping from her tone. "You were just a bit full."

"Oh, quiet." He huffed back, squeezing her hips just slightly.

The blush on her face only deepened at his actions as her smile wavered and she glanced only briefly at his lips, pulling a butterfly effect into his chest.

"Loki." Her voice was a soft whisper as he moved his head a fraction of an inch closer. He could feel her breath on his lips, the adrenaline hitting his core.

He had never once felt that way before, that odd fluttering, the rush of adrenaline as his name escaped her lips like a soft, gentle prayer. He had to stop the groan that begged to escape at the sound, the feeling when her hand slipped to the back of his neck.

"Darling." His voice was gruffer, deeper with a desire he wouldn't dare to outwardly say.

Yet, the moment he opened his mouth to say something, anything, Aurora's phone buzzed on the nightstand beside her.

She sighed as she pulled back from him, leaning over to grab her phone.

"I have a mission with Tony." She hummed out, sitting up. "I'll- Uh, see you later, yeah? Shadow is with Steve." With that she nearly bolted from her own bedroom, making Loki's frown deepen.

He couldn't figure her out. The way she would sometimes look at him as if she desired the same thing, the way she'd calm into his touch like she did no one else, the way she'd speak to him as if he were a lifeline... Just to flip a switch, begin acting as though nothing at all was shared between the pair more than friendly companionship.

He hadn't looked into her mind to see her feelings on that topic. Loki would claim to himself it was a matter of invasion, something he simply didn't want to do to her, but that wasn't true. In truth, he was terrified that he'd find she didn't share the same unbearable draw to him that he felt for her. Not that he'd ever admit that, though. Not even to himself.

Loki groaned as he laid flat on his back on her bed, closing his eyes.

"She's going to be the death of me." He admitted softly to himself.

It was the first time he'd admitted his feelings for the dark haired goddess of a woman, the first time he'd taken the time to consider just how drastic they truly were.

At first, he thought she'd be a nice distraction from his imprisonment within this worthless tower, a fun new girl to play with. She was most definitely attractive, her curves being a bit more full than most, her full, dark lips and bright eyes captivating.

She was perfect, at every inch and crevice, just perfect. But Loki hadn't expected her mind, her soul, to be just as perfect as the body that held it. That part had taken him by surprise.

And now he was here, finding himself stuck in the strangest of perplexities he'd ever been in.

With other women, and men for that matter, Loki found ease in charming his way to them, or at the very least to their bed. It rarely took much effort on the god's part at all, in fact.

And then there was Aurora. The person he's found himself craving unlike any other, in more ways than just physical desire. An awkward fixation, a hindering, unsettling desire burned within him to be anything, everything she may ever need in life.

Norns, did he want to be everything for her. She had him acting foolishly, healing furry beasts and following her like a soft, love struck adolescent.

"The death of me." He mumbled again, sighing as the words slipped his mouth.