Winter Sunshine

Defences

A/N: Please don't hate me, my plot is suicidal.

Disclaimer: I haven't done one before, but I haven't kissed a unicorn before, either. I own Savannah and Nathan, and one day, I shall buy Tom Hiddleston. 

Loki's POV (Third person)

Stark was angry with him, even Thor could sense that.

Why was he so protective though?

The mortal in his arms whimpered softly, and so he gently stroked her hair and whispered a calming spell. It was a simple enough enchantment, although fragile. She was thrashing now, the spell broken, screaming and crying, and asking them, begging them to stop.

What had they done to her?

Loki looked down at her, and noticed, for the first time that she was unnaturally thin. She was deceptively strong, but in sleep, he could clearly see the shadows under her eyes, the hollowness of her cheeks, and  how gaunt and vampiric she appeared. She was as frail as bone-china, and someone had shattered her. One thought ran through his mind, and startled him with its viciousness.

 They would pay. 

Loki didn't know when he had begun to care for Savannah, they had known each other for three days, but it was futile denying his feelings. He didn't quite love her, so he assumed it was a brotherly love, (hopefully one that differed from what he shared with Thor) and he decided that he wished to protect her.

Why not?

When she had let her defences down, so had he. She had invaded his walls, (That sounded lewd),and she had made him vulnerable.

 Because of a mortal.

Savannah's POV (Third Person)

She awoke in his arms. He smelt of leather and sawdust, and ginger, and musk. There was something else, entirely Lokish, that made him perfect. 

Wait, when had she identified his scent?

She eventually opened his eyes, surprised that he was looking down at her benevolently, and protectively. 

Protectively? 

'Loki, tell me about yourself.'

She noticed the faint flicker of apprehension, which quickly faded. Back to the mask of indifference.

Why didn't he show emotion?

She felt a strange tingling in my mind, and so she looked up at him curiously.

'You did Norse mythology?'

'Yes.'

'Then what is there to tell?'

'Touche. Will you show me your Jotunn heritage?'

Back to Loki's POV (this is getting annoying)

He froze.

What was he supposed to tell her?

How could he ever forgive himself if he frightened her?

What if he revulsed her?

He showed her, though, and her facial expression proved his greatest fears. And his heart of ice shattered, hard it may be, but ice was brittle.

He was a monster, hideous, vile.

A cold-blooded killer. 

She reaches out a hand to touch him, due to him having teleported to the other side of the bed to avoid scaring her.

'No. You cannot touch me, mortal.' She looks hurt, and sighs sadly.

'Loki, you're beautiful.' 

Oh.