Son of Mischief (Loki/Asgard Fanfiction - Selig's Story)

Chapter Six

Considering it was a Saturday in June, and a beautiful one at that, the mall was surprisingly crowded. It took two trips around the parking lot before she found a space and when they were inside JC Penney, it seemed to be wall to wall people.

Selig had been quiet the entire drive over to Toms River and guilt pressed harder and harder on Celia as she looked over at him while he rummaged through a stack of neatly folded Levi's trying to find his size. "Do you always wear leather in Asgard?" she finally asked, just to break the silence.

He looked up. "More or less. It's comfortable, once it's broken in properly."

"What do you do all day there?"

His broad shoulders lifted in a semi-shrug. "I keep busy. Like I said, I serve in the Asgardian Royal Guard, I travel through the realms as needed and when I have some down time, I like to ride."

"Horses?"

He gave her a puzzled look. "Of course."

"Well, I don't know. You might have some weird animals there. I've never been, remember?" She rolled her eyes as he bent back over the stack. "Yeesh."

"Bestefar's stables are some of the finest in all nine realms."

She smiled at the odd-sounding word. "Bestefar?"

He nodded as he looked up again. To her relief, he smiled. "It means grandfather. You know, Odin."

"It's so weird, to hear to refer to him as your grandfather. To me, he's a legend from a mythology class."

"Well, he's very much real, Ce." Selig selected a pair of jeans and gestured over one shoulder with his thumb. "I'm going to go try these on. I'll be right back."

She nodded. "I'll keep looking for a few more. Those are thirty-fours?"

He nodded. "Yes."

With that, he turned to go in search of a changing room and she sighed. He'd been distant since breakfast, speaking only when spoken to, and her guilt grew in leaps and bounds. It was too weird, this distance between them, and she hated it. More than anything, she wished she could go back and just undo that morning.

"I need a mulligan," she muttered, flipping through a stack of 501s until she found thirty-fours. They were stiff, but once they were washed, they'd soften up and she knew-she just knew-Selig would look amazing in them. He didn't know how to look bad, period.

Why didn't she just admit the truth to him? Of course she remembered. She remembered every detail of that night, right down to how delicious Selig's cologne smelled. She didn't know what he wore, but it was embedded in her brain to this day and she wondered if maybe it wasn't cologne at all because he'd showered before they left, and when he passed by her to go outside, his scent brought her right back to that night on the beach.

He emerged from the dressing room. "They fit."

"Good." She smiled, trying to ignore the pang when he didn't return it but instead turned his attention back to the stacks of jeans on the table. "How many do you think you'll need?"

"One's fine."

"Sel, you need more than one pair of jeans." She grabbed three more and held them out.

"It'll be fine."

"Don't be stupid, Selig. I can afford it, don't worry. I'm doing okay these days."

He looked down at her and she saw something swirling in his eyes, but couldn't quite place what that something was. "You sure, Ce?"

"I'm positive. Now, let's go find you some shirts, okay?"