i'll fill this book with oneshots about our favourite god of mischief. i'll always appreciate your feedback, comments, etc. and read it. <3
note: i don't own any of the marvel characters nor used gifs.
note II: i won't write explicit smut, sorry!
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The shot echoed in Loki's ears. Over and over and over again.
For once, she'd been too slow and the bullets had been too fast. For once, the weight that would've been lifted off his chest after he would've seen her getting up as usual after stayed pressed tightly against his lungs. No breath of relief.
Loki was immune to the cold of the winter, but for once, he experienced the feeling of one's hand turning numb, making it harder to do anything.
Utter shock was long written in his eyes by the time he was by her side. His hands started to shake. His heart ached with fear. All of this was surreal. Time became irrelevant, seconds turned into infinite moments of pain.
No.
[Name]'s eyes were wide open, yet the familiar spark of them wasn't lying within. Her lips blue from the piercing cold, slightly parted.
Loki didn't know what gave him the strength of pushing up her thick sleeves, reaching for her right wrist to check her pulse.
Her motionless fingertips brushed his hand as he did, their temperature incredibly low.
Her name repeatedly rung in his ears. Nothing else. He felt the lump in his throat growing as his hands frantically wandered over to her left wrist, still desperately searching for the tiniest spark of life.
She was still alive, she had to be. At least that was what he was telling himself as his jaw clenched, his chest tightened and his breathing grew shallow.
His pale fingers tilted her chin, his touch gentle nevertheless, and he pulled down her scarf, revealing the bare skin of her neck to the piercing cold.
Please. Please. Please.
Yet... nothing.
Tears rose to his eyes. Lies. This was all a lie, a fever dream. This couldn't be real, it was an illusion, a cruel trick.
Loki's mind was so clouded with his thoughts that tried to gaslight himself into believing this wasn't reality, he only perceived the tears crawling down his cheeks when the cold silence of the winter started to ring in his ears.
He felt the urge to break it, but as he did, something else was being broken. His facade, and far more important, his heart.
"But I love you", he sobbed. "I loved you, I love you..."
There were so many words he wanted to say, yet he couldn't. The sight in front of him was far too painful, his words couldn't get past his throat. His chest tightened, his throat closed up. Was this what it felt like being choked to death? Breathing suddenly was the hardest thing in life.
Even as his vision blurred with tears, he could still make out the red spots of blood splattered across her torso, her soft skin, her hands he'd yearned to touch for what felt like eternity.
Soft noises he desperately attempted to muffle escaped his lips because he was unable to suppress them in his throat any longer.
"[Name]..."
A whisper, barely audible. His [Name]. It could've been anyone but her.
"Why did you have to die on me?!" he yelled at her lifeless body, tears of frustration spilling. He wiped them away, yet this was everything it took to make him unable to stop further tears from coming.
"Sorry, I'm sorry..." he whimpered. He hadn't meant to yell at her, Loki couldn't ever yell at her. But she couldn't hear him either way. He could've been apologising a billion times and whisper all the sweet things he ever wanted to tell her, but it wouldn't be of any use now.
