I see you || Loki

9. Romantic Revenge

"Alright then," Loki said when you entered his rooms and he closed the door behind him. "Go ahead."

You took a cautious step back, eyeing him like a snake you'd happened upon in the grass. "What do you mean?"

Loki stepped forward and you retreated again, but rather than taking you in his arms like you expected, he stepped around you to the living area and sat on the couch. "Your fury, your wrath"—he waved his hand vaguely to the air around him—"whatever revenge you have in store for me. Let's get on with it."

You felt as if the ground had quite suddenly been yanked out from under you, leaving you in freefall. You had expected him to tease you more, to bully you into submission, not to sit serenely on the couch waiting for you to dole out some unknown punishment. With a spark like the light of a candle, your mind touched ground again.

A game.

Of course it was a game. Everything Loki did was a game. He may have traded tactics, but he wasn't playing you any less by stepping into your fury. "Don't mock me," you said.

"I wouldn't dare." Loki held up his hands as if in surrender, but the corners of his mouth pulled in a suppressed smile.

You couldn't let him twist you into chasing your tail. You needed time to think, to regain your senses after the flash of anger. "I just want my clothes back."

"Of course." Loki indicated another part of the room where a pile of boxes stood.

You stepped away, giving him a wide berth as you circled the couch. You peered inside each one, making sure they held clothes and not some other trick or trap. Stars, how had he gotten them here without anyone noticing? And how in all the heavens were you going to get them back to your room? You stepped back with your hands on your hips, surveying the problem.

After a minute of silence, Loki spoke. "Why is it that you're so angry with me?"

You didn't look at him as you answered. "You ruined my dress."

"Is that all?" He scoffed. "I can replace it easily enough."

You frowned and watched him from the corner of your eye. "You stole my clothes."

"Only for a few hours. And, as you can see, I'm returning them." He shifted. "That was mischief at best. Childish, but hardly malicious."

You temper flared. "Yes," you said, rounding on him, "but the whole reason you did those things was to make me wear this ridiculous outfit. You could have just given it to me like a normal person."

He leaned forward, watching you with an intensity that gave you the sudden sense of walking into a room filled with unseen danger. "If I had"—amusement flickered over his features—"as you suggest, given you the dress and asked you to wear it, would you have?"

You crossed your arms over your stomach and scowled. "Of course not."

"Why not?"

Your mind stalled. You'd been so furious at the idea of him choosing your clothing, but... why? It was a flattering dress, though hardly your style, but still... No, even if it was similar to any other dress you had, you would have resented it. You had balked because Loki had wanted you to wear it. Could you possibly be that petty... to refuse a request merely because it was him who asked? No. Loki always played games. He always had an angle. If you'd trusted him, you would have come out embarrassed, nothing else. "You would have been tricking me."

When Loki took your hand in his, you realized that, throughout your conversation, your feet had carried you to him without your meaning them to. You swore internally, cursing your traitorous body. He'd lured you right into his arms with nothing but his eyes and a few well-placed words.