It was set in the fine threads of Yggdrasil, that they were never to be with one another, or the world as they know would cease to exist. Loki's tired of it. He wants this more than anything. But will you give up your safety net? Could you risk it a...
Heading to the bar was supposed to be revelry. It was when you were going there. You hated it. Being obsessed with a man. No. You weren't obsessed. Yes, gaslight yourself. That always works. The alcohol poured down your throat in a steady stream until you downed the entire bottle. Good thing it was a light drink.
"Who wants to do shots?" Sylvie called, grabbing a bunch of shot glasses. Money? There were already enough wads in your pocket, conjured through the power of magic, to get yourself a private lake house. Might as well get drunk and enjoy the night.
Five shots, which you won, had you sitting on the edge of the corner, eyeing the God of mischief who was treating himself to the dance floor. God. He looked just like your Loki. He wasn't yours.
At least someone was enjoying themselves. Those stupid five shots had you thinking. That night. His hands on your waist staring into your soul. He always seemed to know what to do. Fuck. He was handsome. The end of the ball commenced. He had to leave. You had to leave. You didn't want to leave him.
What is going on with you?
"He's not the same," Sylvie sighed. Fuck, was your desperation so poorly concealed?
"Hm?" you tried to shrug it off. Maybe she didn't know yet.
"He's not the same Loki." God dammit. she knew.
"I know," you purse your lips. Another swig of whiskey would probably do you good. Wrong.
"Listen, you've got your liberty. And you don't need to chase after him, it was the past. "
"I don't know, Sylvie. Loki used to be one of the only people who understood me. Back on Asgard, I had no one. He was everything to me. Yes, I did fuck him, but it was only that-- just a fuck. It's not that I like him or anything. I'm just really stuck. When I look at him I see the same man who kissed me, who told me he loved me, who danced with me all in one night. But that kind of affection took hundreds of years. It's the reason I was stolen. Because I told Loki that I loved him."
Great. You're now a drunk blabbing fool.
"As hard as it is, this isn't the same Loki. You're free." You knew she was trying to help. But c'mon man. Heartbreak is hard.
Not heartbreak. Not over him. Heartbreak meant you were in love. Love is stupid.
"But that's the thing I don't know. Sylvie. This Loki, he's the one that transpires when I don't kiss him and we aren't together. He finds out he's a frost giant like me. He goes down to earth and so on. But he's still the Loki who danced with me. He's still the Loki who shared secret glances. He's still the Loki I loved. Just a few years forward. The way he looks at me now too. It's like he likes me. As though he still likes me."
Fuck love. Fuck loki. Same thing. You should have just been a fucking nun around him. One taste of his cock and you're now a desperate cunt.
"After we had sex, he kissed me just like he did that night. He fucking pushed my hair behind my ear. He fucking gave me the same aftercare as he did that night. We lost our virginity to each other. And this Loki is doing the same. Even after I left because I knew his actions would only cause me pain from thinking about my Loki. He still wanted me back. But I can't. He's not my Loki. He was never mine.
You sounded like a virgin. What the hell is wrong with you? Maybe you just need to get laid.
By Loki.
No. Anybody but him.
The next morning's hangover was not a pleasant experience per se. It had been a while since you last drank. Maybe that's why. A fucking ibuprofen wouldn't even cure this migraine. Getting out of bed was a task, to say the least. The newly bought apartment was in shatters of clothing, leftover food, spilt drinks and papers from everything you had seen last night. Yes, you should cherish life, but it's not necessary to cherish an advertisement of cornflakes.
Waking up always seems like a burden nowadays. Getting yourself to eat even harder. Nonetheless, you forced yourself to. No one would do it for you.
"Come with me?" his deep voice reverberated in your skull. The light was painful enough, his pale complexion was worsening your agony.
"Come where?" you mumbled, half out of aggravation. You couldn't bear to meet his eyes. Not after those thoughts from last night.
"I wanted to visit Asgard," he replied in a quiet voice. All in all, he missed his homeland. He missed his mother. This was around the time that he would be locked in a cell, and the elves were preparing to attack the kingdom. These events, however, were not set into motion as Darcy Lewis had prevented Jane Foster from discovering the portal and sticking her hand into the glowing red rock. In fact, a lot more time had passed since then.
You could see Frigga.
"Alright," you nodded your head, still not meeting his undisturbed gaze, "When do we leave?"
"In a while," you looked up. He was smiling.
"Do you just want to show me off?" You smirked. Shut up! "You want me to meet your mum." Oh, by the Norns, stop speaking before thinking!
Loki's cheeks turned a violent crimson. His eyes were a tad bit more dilated. The inside of his chest was doing loads of tangling and twisting, it was hard to make out if he was dying or he was just feeling his blood circulating. "I just thought you'd like to see the realm," he dropped his shoulders, which he didn't know were kept up, "It's nothing like that."
Truth be told, Loki wanted everything to be like that. He liked you goddamn it! Why must you tease and toy with him so much?
Well, you, on the other hand, considered this as a probable form of repudiation from the god of mischief. Did he get over you so fast? Was it something in that burning scotch he shot down his throat last night? It should have been your tongue.
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looks like we're going to pay a certain family a visit >:D
