The Beginning Of An End

Chapter 7

Hours later, the demigod and I found ourselves sprawled out on the floor of the room, with three whole bottles of absinthe nearly drained to nothing. It took us much longer to feel the effects, given that we weren't exactly human. My mind felt like it was floating outside my head, struggling to focus. And yet, there were four more bottles nearby, watching us as if they were concocted by the Devil himself.

Loki, being taller and more powerful than me, had a much higher tolerance. As I leaned against the bed on the floor, my eyes barely open, Loki sat next to me, rambling incessantly. His words were a blur, a buzzing noise that came and went. The sun was setting slowly, its rays casting a warm glow on Loki's hair, giving it a fiery appearance.

For a while, all the thoughts for what happened back in that prison faded. In fact, my mind was incapable of remembering anything. And I didn't want to force it, it was the first time in a long time that I felt at peace.

"I know I'm very drunk right now..." I slurred and Loki immediately stopped talking and looked at me with a puzzled expression. "But thank you." I finally managed to express my gratitude without feeling like a complete idiot. Even Loki seemed to be caught by surprise and didn't respond for a few seconds, just had his eyes locked on me. Then his lips stretched out in a small smile.

"You're welcome."

"I still don't trust you fully... I don't think I ever will. But it's good for now." His expression shifted to a more somber one. It was clear he didn't quite grasp why, but I couldn't blame him entirely. After all, trusting someone again after being betrayed wasn't an easy feat. Loki's gaze turned away, his jaw clenched, indicating my timing might not have been ideal.

Silent, he reached for another bottle, pouring himself a glass without meeting my eyes.

"You want?" he offered, extending the bottle towards me. I accepted it, pouring myself a shot and downing it quickly.

"What happened to Beelzebub?" I asked, hoping to redirect the conversation.

"Well, he organized the whole thing," Loki replied, pouring himself another shot. "I was waiting for you in the field in the human world for ages. You never showed up... and then he did, luckily. Told me what happened. If I hadn't recognized him from before, I doubt I would've agreed to help."

I nodded in understanding, surprised to learn that he had actually waited for me. It was a strange thought, picturing Loki standing there, wondering where I was, while I was stuck in Hell. But even stranger was the feeling of gratitude that welled up inside me. Then, a tense silence settled between us, punctuated only by the sound of pouring liquor.

I sensed his growing frustration, and perhaps my earlier admission had struck a nerve.

"It's not your fault," I interjected after a while, feeling the alcohol clouding my thoughts. In this hazy state, I found it easier to express deeper emotions. "The person I trusted the most was the one who put me in prison in the first place. So... I hope you understand."

There was an instant shift in energy and anger subdued significantly. He finally looked at me and started cracking up at what point I was just completely puzzled. "You trusted the Devil himself?!"

My expression turned blank the moment he said that, and he burst into even louder laughter, ending up sprawled out on the floor. I couldn't defend myself, partly because the alcohol had dulled my senses, and partly because there was a grain of truth in his words.

As Loki finally regained his composure, he turned his head towards me and remarked, "You've got some problems, man."

"The story is more nuanced than that," I mumbled, realizing the senselessness of my response too late.