Twisted Fate || Loki Odinson

44.

I chew nervously on the tip of my thumb, the minutes stretching as I wait for Loki to return. The dim living room offers little comfort and the silence is broken only by the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. 

Suddenly, a burst of bright green light fills the room, and I leap to my feet, my heart racing as Loki materializes out of thin air.

"Oh, thank God," I breathe out in relief, rushing towards him and wrapping my arms tightly around his waist. "You're okay." His fingers glide soothingly through my hair as his arms envelop me. "I was so worried." I pull back slightly to look up at him. "What happened?" My voice trembles with concern.

His jaw tightens, a flicker of emotion crossing his features. "He cannot hurt you again."

I narrow my eyes, pressing him for answers. "What did you do?"

"Cassie," he starts, exhaling deeply. "I... I killed him."

My eyes widen in shock. "What?"

"There was no other choice," he insists, his tone weighted with the gravity of his decision. "You said it yourself, he wouldn't stop."

I recoil from him, taking a step back. "You killed him?"

"It was the only way to ensure your safety," he explains calmly.

My disbelief gives way to a mix of emotions-- gratitude, fear, and a creeping unease. "And how do you know it won't lead back to us?" I challenge, my tone tinged with worry.

"Because I made it appear as though he took his own life," he replies, his gaze holding mine steadily.

I furrow my brows, struggling to comprehend. "How?"

"Magic," he states simply, a hint of frustration in his tone. "My abilities allow me to manipulate such situations." I turn away, my mind racing. "Are you... upset that he's dead?"

"Of course not," I shake my head, turning back to face him. "But you... you killed someone for me. You took another person's life..." My voice trails off, unable to fully express my feelings. 

"And I would do even more than that to protect you," he admits quietly, his words hanging between us. "You are... one of the few people I care about. You're important to me."

His confession sends a shiver down my spine, the gravity of our bond sinking in deeper than ever before. I meet his intense gaze, seeing a sincerity that both startles and reassures me. 

"Loki," I whisper, my voice barely audible in the charged silence. "Thank you." I reach out tentatively, hesitating before placing my hand on his chest, over his heart. "I know you did what you thought was necessary."

He covers my hand with his own, his touch warm against my skin. "And would do it again, Cassie," he says softly, sincerity lacing every word. "I won't let anyone harm you."

"I... I trust you," I reply, my voice steady.

His expression softens, a rare smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Rest assured, Cassie," he murmurs, leaning closer. "You're safe now."

|| || ||

Careful not to wake Loki, I slide out from under his arm that's draped over me. I tiptoe out of the bedroom, my heart still racing from the proximity of his warmth. The kitchen, usually a place of comfort, feels foreign as my thoughts swirl with what he's done for me. I begin to gather the breakfast essentials for burritos, laying them out on the island with deliberate movements.

I crack four eggs into a small bowl, the sound of the shells breaking echoing in the quiet space. Adding a bit of milk, I whisk the mixture together, the familiar rhythm soothing my nerves. The skillet hisses as I pour in the eggs, the sizzle bringing a fleeting sense of normalcy. I start cooking the bacon next, its rich aroma filling the kitchen.

As the eggs scramble and the bacon crisps, I retrieve the salsa from the fridge and place it on the island. I open a cabinet, grab a couple of plates, and set them down next to the salsa. I walk over to another cabinet and peer up at the glasses on the top shelf. Standing on my tiptoes, I stretch towards the shelf, my fingers brushing the edge but not quite reaching the glass.

Damn.

A sudden but gentle touch on my waist makes me flinch. Turning my head, I find Loki, shirtless, standing behind me with a smirk that disarms me. His gaze gleams with amusement and something deeper, something that tugs at my heart. "Would you like some assistance?" he asks, his voice teasing.

I scoff, trying to maintain a semblance of independence. "No, I can get it myself."

His brows raise, the smirk widening. "All right, if you say so."

Determined, I direct my attention back to the glasses. Standing on my tiptoes again, I reach towards one of the glasses, my fingers barely brushing the cool surface. Frustration bubbles up inside me, my stubbornness clashing with the reality of my limited height.

"Just let me help you," he insists, a touch of impatience now coloring his tone.

I huff, finally conceding. "Fine."

He steps closer, his groin pressing against my butt, his hand remaining on my waist. My eyes widen slightly at the contact, the unexpected intimacy sending a jolt through me. His reach is effortless as he grabs two glasses, the faint clink of glass echoing in the kitchen. He lowers them and holds them out to me, his gaze steady. "Thanks," I murmur, clearing my throat and trying to shake off the sensation of his body against mine.

"What are you making?" he questions, his voice a low rumble.

"Breakfast burritos," I respond, grabbing the tortillas and popping them in the microwave, trying to focus on the mundane task instead of him.

He leans against the counter, watching me intently, his presence filling the room. "Need any more help?" he offers, his tone softening slightly.

I shake my head, keeping my eyes on the food in front of me. "No, I've got it."

His gaze remains fixed on me, and I can feel the intensity of it. His touch, his proximity-- it all feels like too much, yet not enough.

As I assemble the burritos, layering eggs, bacon, and salsa, I can't help but steal glances at him. His expression is softer now, the usual mischief in his gaze replaced with something almost tender. 

"Why are you up so early?" he asks, breaking the silence and making me jump slightly.

I shrug, trying to keep my voice steady. "Couldn't sleep." 

He steps closer, his presence enveloping me. "Cassie," he begins softly. "You don't have to hide how you feel."

I swallow hard as I look up at him. His eyes are sincere, the depth of his emotions reflected in them. "It's not that easy," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. "Everything is just... so much right now."

He reaches out, his fingers brushing my cheek. "You don't have to face it alone," he murmurs gently. "I'm here for you, Cassie."

His words and his touch break down the walls I've built around myself. Tears well up in my eyes, and I blink them back, not wanting to show how vulnerable I feel. "Thank you," I manage to say, my voice cracking.

He steps even closer, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his chest. "Always," he whispers, his breath warm against my ear.

For a moment, I let myself lean into him, feeling the strength and comfort he offers. The reality of everything that's happened fades, replaced by the promise in his words. We stand there in silence, the kitchen filled with the aroma of our breakfast, but my mind is far from it.

Eventually, I pull back slightly, looking up into his eyes. "I just... I don't know how to process all this," I sigh, my voice barely audible.

He nods, understanding. "We'll figure it out together," he promises, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from my cheek. "One step at a time."

I take a deep breath. "Okay," I whisper, finding a small measure of relief in his words.

He smiles a genuine, warm smile that makes my heart flutter. "Now, let's finish these burritos before they get cold."

I nod, a small smile tugging at my lips. As we turn back to our task, there's a sense of quiet understanding between us, a shared strength that makes me believe we can face whatever comes next. And for now, that's enough.