Twisted Fate || Loki Odinson

6.

Pushing the door shut behind me, a wave of relief washes over me as I twist the lock into place. I set the pizza box down on the side table and slip my coat off my shoulders, hanging it neatly on the hook. With practiced precision, I kick off my shoes, lining them up perfectly on the rack by the door.

"You're back." Loki's voice catches my attention and I turn to see him standing in the kitchen doorway. "Where did you go?"

"Uh... work," I shrug, the exhaustion from my shift making my voice sound flat.

His brows furrow. "Work?"

I scoff, rolling my eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure you're not used to the concept of having to work for a living, but unfortunately, we mortals have to work to afford anything." I walk past him and toss the pizza box onto the island. "And I brought dinner."

"Dinner? It's only 3:00," he points out, a hint of confusion in his voice.

"Well, I haven't eaten anything all day, so I'm starving," I admit, feeling my stomach growl in agreement.

"Don't Midgardians get required breaks?" he questions, taking a seat at the kitchen island and eyeing the pizza box.

"Yeah, we get a thirty-minute break, but most of the time we either can't take it or don't take the full thirty minutes," I explain, opening the box to reveal a pepperoni pizza inside. I grab a slice and take a big bite, the savory flavor providing a small yet much-needed comfort.

He leans forward, curiosity gleaming in his eyes as he examines the unfamiliar dish. "Ah, pizza. I've heard tales of this peculiar Midgardian cuisine." 

"Consider yourself fortunate. It's a classic," I comment, nudging the box closer to him. He takes a piece cautiously, studying it before taking a tentative bite. "Well?"

"For Midgardian food, it's surprisingly palatable," he admits with a hint of approval, his lips curling into a small smile.

"See? I told you it was good."

Turning to the kitchen, I retrieve a bottle of wine from the cabinet, pouring myself a generous glass before joining him at the island. His gaze follows my movements, concern flickering in his eyes. "Are you alright?"

I take a sip, the rich flavor washing away some of the day's frustrations. "I'm fine. Just had a rough day." 

"If you wish to talk about it, I've been told I'm a good listener," he offers, his voice gentler than usual.

Raising an eyebrow in surprise, I meet his gaze. "You actually want to hear about my day?"

He nods, his curiosity unwavering. "Of course. Otherwise, I wouldn't have offered."

"Alright then..."

I recount the chaos of the day, from unruly customers to unforeseen mishaps, weaving in the saga of the Salt-Man. Loki listens intently, his expression shifting from amusement to irritation as I describe Scott's behavior.

"He sounds insufferable," he remarks, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"That's putting it lightly," I mutter, draining the rest of my glass.

"And what did your superior do?" he inquires, his eyes narrowing.

I refill my glass, choosing my words carefully. "He wrote me up."

His brows shoot up in surprise. "Wrote you up?"

"Yeah, apparently I was too 'argumentative'," I explain with a touch of bitterness.

"But you weren't," he insists calmly, a hint of concern in his voice.

"I wasn't," I agree, taking another bite of pizza. His hands tense slightly, a subtle sign of his growing displeasure. "Loki?"

"I will speak with him tomorrow," he states firmly, his tone brooking no argument.

My eyes widen in alarm. "What? No, you can't talk to my boss."

"He treated you unfairly," he argues, his tone unwavering. 

"You're right, but it's not the first time and I don't need you to fight my battles for me," I warn, my tone firm but laced with exhaustion.

He exhales, his shoulders relaxing slightly, though his eyes remain serious. "Very well."

The silence between us is heavy with unspoken tension. After a moments, I break it with a sigh. "I'm... I'm sorry."

His brows furrow as he looks up at me, genuine confusion etched on his face. "For what?"

"For being rude. You were just trying to help, and I shouldn't have reacted that way," I confess, my voice softening. "I just... I've taken care of myself for almost ten years now. I don't need anyone, including you, thinking I need someone to take care of me now."

"Of course," he nods, his expression sincere and understanding. "I apologize for overstepping."

"It's fine," I say, my voice steadier now. "Just trust me when I say that I can take care of myself and handle my own conflicts." 

"Understood," he responds, his eyes filled with respect and a newfound understanding.

Turning the conversation, I ask, "So, how was your night? What did you do?"

"I took a stroll through the woods, explored the area, and read," he replies casually, a hint of relaxation in his voice.

"Sounds peaceful."

"It was. This place is surprisingly beautiful," he admits, his eyes reflecting a rare moment of tranquility.

"But not as beautiful as Asgard?" I tease lightly, hoping to lighten the mood.

He chuckles softly, a genuine sound that warms the room. "No, it will never be as magnificent as Asgard."

I laugh softly, feeling some of the day's tension melt away. "Well, at least Earth has its moments."

His smile softens, his gaze meeting mine with a hint of admiration. "Indeed, it does."

|| || ||

Glancing at the clock, I curl my legs against my chest, stealing a glance at Loki, who's comfortably settled in an armchair with his book. "You know, for someone who's supposed to be mischievous, you're surprisingly well-behaved tonight."

He chuckles softly, his eyes warm with understanding. "Perhaps I reserve my mischief for more... opportune moments."

A faint smile tugs at my lips. "Oh, so tonight wasn't opportune enough?"

"I did refrain from turning your furniture into livestock," he teases, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Good to know. Cows in the living room wouldn't go over well," I joke, feeling at ease.

"Maybe goats would be more your style?" he suggests with a raised eyebrow.

Laughing, I shake my head. "No goats either. Although, knowing you, sneaking a few into the backyard just to see my reaction wouldn't surprise me."

"You see through my intentions already," he remarks, closing his book and setting it aside.

Silence settles comfortably between us, the crackling fire in the hearth the only sound. Taking a sip of wine, I enjoy the warmth spreading through me. "You know... it's been a long time since I've come home to another person and shared my day."

Understanding flickers in his eyes, softening his features. "You deserve someone who cares."

His sincerity catches me off guard. "You have no idea how much that means," I confess, my voice softening with gratitude.

His gaze holds mine, silently acknowledging the unspoken emotions between us.