Perpetuity (A Loki FanFiction)

Chapter Seven: The End

Loki stood in the shivering cold. When he left Rory, it had been a whim decision; he hadn't thought of the consequences, for he was blinded by his anger and his hatred for Vindler that he didn't realise what this would cost. He still had a job he worked at everyday at the library. He would tell stories to the children. It wasn't the highest paying job, but it got him a small, cheap, rental apartment outside the city to live in until he had the money to afford a better place.

Every day he would return from work and sit on his sofa and read. He read the books he had seen Rory cry over; he read the books he found on his own; he read the most discussed novels at the time; he read to imagine worlds like and unlike his own. To escape the Gehenna he was living in. Life was hell without his angel to guide him through. He missed her so, he honestly did. Even though she hurt him more than his father did when he found out the lies that used to cover up his true being. Now that she was gone, he was unsure, lost and hollow. He didn't eat or sleep neaely as much as he should. He denied himself the one thing in this messed-up world that made him happy. Every day, he would walk past the building she lived in. Imagining the good times they had on the balcony, drinking hot cocoa wrapped in blankets and catching snowflakes on their tongues. But now the balcony was empty and desolate. Sometimes, he'd see her out drinking on the balcony in the freezing cold. He could see it clearly, he was hurting her as much as she hurt him. But he could not return to her, she hurt him. She cheated on him, leaving was the thing to do, right?

He knew it was, but still he doubted his decision. Every night, he would go to bed remembering her. The way she moved, the way she spoke with that smooth, melodic voice of hers, the way she kissed him. The simple pleasures of the woman he trusted with everything. The absence of love in his life took a great toll on his mental state. He craved her. He hungered for her touch, her breath against his skin, the soft curve of her hips. He missed her more than anything. He wanted to go back to her, but he didn't know how. How could he possibly express his despair and despondency? He wasn't the man he used to be, but still he could not admit he was wrong to leave. The humility terrified him; was Rory worth it?

~•~

It was now early March, about a month since Loki left. Spring was coming, and it was warm enough to stay outside for an extended period of time. Loki would often sit in the park in his free time, reflecting. Even though it had been a long time since he had left Rory, she was still the only thing on his mind. The memories were still as vivid as the day they were made. He couldn't bear thinking about what she had been doing. She may have moved on. She had probably found another man to love and kiss and talk to. The thought alone broke his heart. He couldn't take it anymore. It was time he do something about the hole in his chest. He stood up to go to work.

After reading Where the Wild Things Are to the children at the library, he went home and ate dinner, still thinking about his plans to salvage the pieces of his shattered love. He contemplated until the early hours of the morning, planning what to say, how to say what he wanted, what he would do. But he couldn't wait until the sun rose. He went out into the darkness of the morning to recover the relic that had become so lost to him.

He marched to the apartment complex he passed by every day, still grey and still nostalgic. But he paused: he had no means of getting inside. His spirits lowered, and is head hung down around his collar. He was about to begin his journey home when something caught his eye. There was a silver landing on the side of the building, a window washer's landing. He climbed on and pushed the green button, and luckily, it went up. Straight to the top floor. Cautiously, he clambered over to the balcony next to the pulley system.

The doors were open. They opened to the same room he had fallen asleep in so many times, but it was different. Clothes, trash and empty bottles littered the floor. The scent in the air was heavy with alcohol and lacking the apple cinnamon that once lingered in its place. The walls didn't gleam with warm light anymore. They reflected the full light of the moon and further shadowed the disheveled flat. Her guitar that she used to play every day was gathering dust in a corner. A chilling breeze swept the curtains aside and blew through the cold apartment. Loki closed the doors to the balcony and looked around the once homely abode. It almost seemed like a completely different place.

In the darkness, there was a small light. And she was passed out on the floor of her room. The black mascara ran down her face and covered her cheeks like charcoal. An empty bottle had rolled out of her grasp and over to the dresser. Her drinking was blatantly out of hand. She was skinnier than when Loki last saw her. The clothes that once flattered her figure hung limp on her skeletal shoulders. She was weak. Tired. Scared. Lost. Lost without him. He crouched in the doorway in disbelief. He had done this to her. He left her to wither and disintegrate. Everything Loki wanted to say escaped his mind; it killed him inside to know he caused her so much pain. He stooped down, picked up her nearly lifeless body and laid her gently on her unmade bed. He pulled her sheets and comforters over her shoulders and lay next to her like he used to all those weeks ago. For a second, things felt normal. He kissed her tear-stained cheeks for the first time in a long time and took her hands in his, warming them.

He shut his eyes and pictured her smiling and kissing him like she used to. He pictured her hurriedly making bacon in the morning and rushing to get to work. He remembered her screaming at the scary movies they watched and the delight in her eyes when she first woke up next to him. He hoped with everything he had that she would accept him again.

"Please," he whispered to himself.

He watched the soft rise and fall of her chest as the sun rose behind her. The room wasn't harsh and cold anymore. The warm rays of sun filled the room and illuminated the heroic and sick people nestled in the middle of it.

The shrill of an alarm clock pierced the silent haven of the morning, and Rory's sad blue eyes opened and rested upon the apparition opposite her. They widened in astonishment and fear.

"Am I dead?" She looked about in awe, trying to figure out how she got to bed and how Loki found her.

"No. You're very much alive."

And then Loki let a single tear fall down his face. He hadn't heard her musical voice for a lifetime. It hasn't changed a note. She was still the same beautiful human he had fallen in love with.

"May I kiss you?"

He asked. But she didn't reply. She crashed her lips against his before she could even think about responding. She hungered for his kiss, his passion, his love. And now she had him once again within her grasp. Loki cupped her face with his slender hands, pulling her closer. They wanted a perpetual moment to save this sad, perfect kiss from ending.

"I've missed you" she breathed.

"I missed you more." He whispered in return.

And then, this one perfect moment evolved into a great adventure, an adventure of life and love and perpetual happiness.