Twisted Fate || Loki Odinson

52.

Loki and I slide into the plush booth, the ambiance of the upscale Italian restaurant enveloping us like a warm embrace. Soft, ambient lighting casts a gentle glow over the elegantly set tables, while the murmur of hushed conversations adds a layer of intimacy to the room. The clinking of silverware and the tantalizing aroma of fresh basil and garlic blend to create a welcoming atmosphere. I smooth my dress nervously, feeling a bit out of place in such a refined setting. "This place is so nice," I comment, glancing around. "I feel a bit out of place."

Loki reaches across the table, his fingers intertwining with mine in a reassuring gesture. "Hey..." he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to my nerves. His gaze is steady, the flicker of candlelight reflecting warmly in his eyes. "You don't look out of place at all. You look like you belong here."

A smile tugs at my lips, a wave of warmth spreading through me at his words. "Thank you."

His smile widens, a tender expression that lights up his face. He lifts my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. My cheeks flush at the simple, yet deeply affectionate gesture. Just then, our waiter approaches with a professional smile. "Good evening. Would you like to start with some drinks?"

I scan the alcohol menu, my brows furrowing at the array of unfamiliar Italian wines. The names are exotic, and I feel a bit overwhelmed. "Um..."

"We'll take your most expensive wine," Loki states with a confidence that makes me look up in surprise.

"We will?" I echo, my brows raised in question.

"Yes, we will," he affirms with a decisive nod, his tone brooking no argument.

The waiter nods, clearly impressed. "Very well. Would you like to begin with any appetizers?"

I turn my attention to the appetizers, feeling slightly out of my depth. The names are intricate and foreign, making me hesitate. "Uh..."

"We'll take the Gonfietti con Prosciutto e Burrata," Loki responds smoothly, his Italian flawless. My gaze lifts slowly from the menu, my eyes widening in admiration.

"Certainly. I'll be back with the wine and give you time to look over the menu further," the waiter says, departing with a polite nod.

As he walks away, I lower my menu, my curiosity piqued and my heart swelling with appreciation. "You know Italian?"

"I know many languages," he admits with a nonchalant shrug, his eyes twinkling with amusement. His casual confidence is both impressive and comforting.

I chuckle softly, still in awe of him. "Well, do you mind ordering for me?"

"Of course. Just let me know what you'd like," he replies, his tone warm and accommodating. There's an ease in his demeanor that makes the opulent surroundings feel more approachable.

I glance back at the menu, pointing to a dish that catches my eye. "I was interested in this."

"Mandilli al Vero Pesto Genovese," he reads aloud, his voice rolling over the Italian words with effortless elegance. "It sounds delicious. You should try it." I don't respond immediately, captivated by the grace with which he navigates this world. His eyes meet mine, and he chuckles, the sound rich and melodious. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just... you never cease to impress me," I admit, my voice soft with admiration.

His smile is a mix of pride and affection as he reaches across the table to gently squeeze my hand. "I'm glad I can still surprise you, my love."

The waiter returns with our wine, pouring it with a flourish. Loki watches with a small, satisfied smile as the rich, deep red liquid swirls in our glasses. He raises his glass, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine.