Heaven Sent (Loki/Asgard Fanfiction - Aislinn's Story)

Chapter Thirty

She couldn't sleep.

Damn it.

No matter which way she tossed, which way she turned, the bed was too big. Too empty. Too cold. The room was too quiet.

Her heart hurt too much.

The small clock on the shelf across from her read ten after four. Across the hallway, Steve snored loudly. From the wine, most likely. He always snored louder than usual when he'd had a few drinks.

It aggravated her that he was sleeping like a baby, while she was rolling this way and that, sitting up, flopping back down, punching the awful latex filled pillow to try to soften it up.

She hated that she missed having Steve to cuddle up to. She hated that she missed the warmth of his body against hers. She hated that she missed the security of his arm about her as she slept.

But she hated even more to find out that Steve was really not so very different from Jake. Or from Andreas. Or from any other man on Midgard. She was pretty. That was all that mattered.

She was pretty.

Why did men focus on that alone? It made her feel so lousy to think that Steve--Steve of all people--was just as guilty as Jake of seeing her as only a face, a pair of long legs, and a set of boobs. He was supposed to be different. He was supposed to see her as a person.

But he didn't, apparently.

Her eyes stung, much to her irritation. She didn't want to cry. She wanted to go into his room and smack him for being such a primordial ooze-man. For being such a caveman, as Celia would say.

He was supposed to be different, damn it.

Different.

But he wasn't.

She had no idea when she drifted off, but when she opened her eyes, the sun was up and the townhouse was quiet. Her head ached. Her eyes felt puffy and red. The sunlight actually hurt.

It was ten after eight. Steve was long gone.

She padded into the kitchen and over to the Keurig, where a cup was left on the holder, and a K-cup of Cinnabon cinnamon coffee stood next to it. Steve didn't drink the cinnamon coffee. He liked the darker, heavier roasts--but bought the cinnamon coffee for her.

A peace offering?

She let out a shaky sigh as she hit the power button on the touch screen and the machine groaned to life. Her head ached like mad, so as the coffee brewed, she rubbed her forehead with one hand. For all the good it did.

The scent of cinnamon wafted up to tease her nose and as she sipped, the phone rang. Praying it wasn't Jenna calling to make her morning complete, she lifted the receiver. "Hello?"

"Hey, baby... did I wake you?"

Her eyes closed as Steve's soft tone and she shook her head even though he couldn't see it. "No. I've been up for about ten minutes."

"Good. Look, about last night--"

"Steve, I literally just made coffee and I've only had one sip. Can I call you back in a little while, once I've woken up? Right now, I don't think I'd know my own name if someone asked me."

"Why don't you come up here for lunch? I've got ninth and tenth periods free--from quarter to one until two-thirty."

She nodded. "Okay."

"Do you know how to get here?"

"I can find it on my GPS."

"Park in Lot Two. It's got the most visitor's spaces. And when you come in, the office--"