✍🏻 Bonds of Fear (Loki)

21 - Cold Morning

Feer

I would have taken him out sooner if I knew he would be wearing the black-on-black suit again. His hair was parted on the side and combed back behind his ears and though we were outside on a chilling winter morning, I could still catch how heavenly he smelled. Compelling and crisp as the December air. He was treating this outing as something exceptional, carrying himself with the strut of somebody who owned the whole city and I was walking next to him with an equal attitude.

It was a very silent walk though. I assumed he was holding his tongue not to risk saying something that would irk me, only looking around but not commenting. The moment we left the tower, his eyes beamed with happiness and a small smile didn't leave his lips. I was so ready for his snarky comments and instead got the silent treatment. I wanted to hear everything he had to say, certain that his snide remarks would be amusing, and just as I was about to tell him, he did a theatrical sigh and finally spoke.

"Woman," he growled, stopping in the middle of the street and flailing his arms. "We've passed seventeen establishments already. Was none up to your standards? Given how little manners you have, I would've never assumed you would be this picky about food."

I scoffed and tried to kick his shin but he dodged it with a wicked smile and so I resumed walking, letting him catch up with me.

"I can't eat just any food," I muttered and instantly felt a strange pang of anxiety in him.

"Is it the allergy thing?"

"Nope," I turned the corner, and the bistro I was going for finally came into view. "Don't worry, you won't starve for long. It's that building over there."

"Valhalla," he breathed out in relief and sped up. "So? What's the problem you have with food? I saw you eat on several occasions and --"

I smiled, wondering if I could gain something from his curiosity in return, "If I tell you, will it count toward the questions for our sword fighting lessons?"

In answer, I received only an exasperated sigh and he stayed silent until we entered the bistro, sat down, and placed our orders. It was a cozy little place, unlike many other New York bistros not trying to be modern and cater to hipsters but instead focusing on quality food over decor.
We sat opposite each other in a small booth and his eyes were piercing me with annoyance, not willing to give up his upper hand for something like this while I was smiling back at him and playing with the sugar packets.

"If it's something stupid and I'll waste my ---"

"Well, you'll never know until you ask, will you?"

He growled and grabbed one of the sugar packets, throwing it at my head. I laughed and caught it before it could hit me, playing with it in my fingers. "So? Have you decided?"

"Fine," he snarled, gritting his teeth, and leaned back against the cushions of the bistro bench. "But I swear if it's something stupid, I'll --"

"I can feel the animal's pain," I stated, carefully watching his face as my words gained his attention and he frowned. "I can eat only in places with farm products. Farms that treated the animals well during their life and killed them humanely. Otherwise, the meat tastes downright revolting to me."

I liked how his eyes always lit up whenever he got his hands on some interesting information. That bright spark of intrigue, the change of body posture by leaning forward, running his eyes over every microexpression on my face. I reveled in the attention he was giving me, almost ready to purr. And I loved the electric current between us whenever that happened, charged and sending tingling down my spine as our eyes bore into each other.