Midnight is the only time where you can work on your laundry and not have to deal with anyone else in your apartment building. Some of your neighbors are questionable at best... but low rent is low rent.
Your alarm goes off, waking you from a light doze and reminding you to swap loads in the basement washer and dryer. Yawning, you stumble out of your apartment and down the stairs, not remembering that you're only in your undergarments; you had a mishap with your spaghetti sauce and your pastel dress and only took it off for a brief nap while your laundry was running... You make it to the laundry room in one piece and change out your final load from the dryer. Hefting the basket against your hip, you carry it back up to the third floor and turn the doorknob- only to find the door locked against you.
Suddenly, you're wide awake. You pound on your door and jiggle the handle to no avail. Your keys are just inside and on the counter by your mobile phone. Shivering, barefoot, in your blue lacy bra and knickers, you start shouting at the door for lack of a better solution. The laundry basket is forgotten at your feet, and you're almost in tears of frustration.
"Ah-is this a bad time?"
You whirl around, hands instantly trying to cover your scantily clad body as you come face to face with your (fucking) gorgeous neighbor. You try to remember his name- it was something odd, unusual, Lawrence? Lance? Luke-no Loki!- and you can see his eyes trying very hard not to stare. "No-no, I usually intend to lock myself out of my flat in the middle of the night," you reply, hoping the sarcasm will cover your embarrassment. You know you're blushing, and you can see his pale cheeks ever so slightly flushed. You allow yourself a quick glance over his body, discovering he's in grey boxer shorts and a dark green t-shirt; neither article of clothing is able to conceal the contours and muscles of his body from you.
"Well-if you're trapped in the corridor, perhaps I can offer some assistance. I'd be... honored to have you stay in my flat until morning. The super won't be in until at least nine I'm sure."
You nod, mumbling your thanks as you bring your laundry basket in with you. At least you won't have to sleep on the dirty concrete. Loki turns on a few lamps as you enter his flat, illuminating the darkness enough that you can see where everything is. He seems to have decorated mostly in green and black and gold, the colors giving a regal and dark feeling to the place. You set your basket down inside the door, and you're so busy looking around that you start to forget how little you're wearing.
"Can I offer you anything?"
Loki is standing just out of your reach, leaning against the wall and smiling bemusedly at you now. You blush and bite your lip briefly before replying, "Water is fine. With lemon if you have it."
You swear you could have imagined it, but when you bit your lip, you thought you saw a flicker of pure hunger in your neighbor's eyes. It passes so quickly that you dismiss it as your imagination, and he fixes you each a water with a slice of fresh lemon. You thank him and take it, and as he hands the glass to you, your fingers touch for the briefest instant. His hand is as pale as the rest of the skin you've seen on his body, and he fingers a very long and quite cool. You don't realize you're biting your lip again until you clink your teeth on the edge of the glass, slopping water down between your breasts.
"Fuck! Goddess, I'm sorry, I'm an absolute klutz."
Loki hasn't moved. His eyes (green, you finally notice they appear green) are glued to the tiny rivulets of water making their way down your chest. Slowly, so as not to scare him, you set the glass down. "Can I help you with something?"
Your words seem to bring him out of his reverie. His gaze meets yours and he uncrosses his arms and walks towards you, slowly, like a cat stalking its prey. "I was simply envious of the glass, and then of your water."
