Even darker | Loki

Chapter 7.

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   Flóra was a bit nervous. She was staring at Ove's contact on the screen. He left her a short, handwritten note with 'Call me x' and disappeared before she woke up. It was her first day back at work, so she distracted herself with going through the script ideas the agency sent her, yet her thoughts kept swirling around the surreal situation she found herself in. Their chat with Thor filled her up with angst and joy at the same time. She was happy that Loki confessed, yet it was painfully obvious she got way more than she bargained for. He was a different person in a way. Yes, the basic personality traits were all there, but so was the fact that he was just "passing as a mortal" as Thor put it. Which means he was acting. The question was the scope of that illusion. Was he acting all along? To what extent? He was never an oversharer, but the fact that he told Flóra about his parents was a good sign, yet what if that was just all fiction, a lie to make her feel special that he confided in her? He was a trickster, a silver tongued liesmith after all. Surely there was a reason for all those titles and names. She sighed and squeezed her mobile harder. She was aware of her habit of overanalysing everything and everyone which led her to writing and fiction, but the more she pondered about her past with Loki and their future together, the more chaotic her thoughts became. She let out an irritated groan and tapped on 'Call'. It rang and rang and just when she was about to hang up, he answered.

'Good afternoon!' he said simply.

'Good afternoon! Is this a good time?' she replied and immediately felt a little bit lighter hearing his cheerful voice.

'I'm in the middle of a call, but they can wait a little.'

'Are you in the office?'

'No, working from home. The landscape designer came by earlier.'

'Ah, the landscape designer.' Flóra pouted. 'How posh of you.'

Loki chuckled.

'I'm in and out of meetings until sevenish. Will you come by later? I could make you dinner.'

'Sure.'

'I'll send Davies to pick you up.'

'I can find my way there.'

'Flóra...' he sighed, a bit vexed.

'Ove. Less conspicuous this way.'

She could almost hear the cogs of his brain turning, but he relented. He sent her his address. She took a long, relaxing bath, listening to meditating playlists. She spent half an hour just deciding what to wear. She chose a one shoulder frill layered dress in mint she liked after several failed attempts with silver high heels. She managed to find a matching hand bag. She wore silver bangles on both her wrists and little studs in her ears. She called a cab and listened to her favourite playlist on the way. When she pressed the bell a half an hour later, a small woman in her fifties opened the door.

'Mr. Nordgud is in his study. I was just about to leave. I'm Agnes, the housekeeper. Nice to meet you.'

'Hello Agnes, I'm Flóra. Nice to meet you.'

Flóra put her bag and coat on the hanger and walked to the living room. Agnes was finishing up in the kitchen. Something smelled seriously good, it made her mouth water. She was watching Agnes taking something out of the oven and put it on the hob. She took her apron off and disappeared into the hall. Flóra unlocked her mobile to check her work emails, when she heard the houskeeper's voice.

'I have finished, Miss. The roast is on the hob, leave it to cool off a bit. The salad and the starters are in the fridge. Have a nice evening!'

'Oh, thank you very much. I'll tell him. You too.'