V I G I L A N C E ~ (Marvel) ~

C H A P T E R 1 2_

I sigh as I lay my head on the pillow. When I think that sleep will come easily for me, it doesn't. I lay there, tossing and turning trying to find a position that will grant me a bit of rest. At one point, I do embrace sleep but it does not last long.

The strange creatures that attacked us plague my dreams, making them nightmares. I wake up, sweating, panting, and still tired. Clearly I did not get the rest that I needed. Again.

I try to relax again, knowing how badly I need rest... but my eyes search the ceiling... until I feel watched. I sit up abruptly, my arms hurting when I do, to see Loki standing in the doorway idly, leaning against the side of it before he turns his head to look at me.

I don't speak for a moment and he looks down, his eyes calm and thoughtful... "Can't sleep?" he asks quietly.

I nod. "Is it that obvious?"

"If I hadn't heard you scream, perhaps it wouldn't have been."

I look down at my fingers as they play with sheets. "Oh, well you can blame the nightmares for that."

He almost lets his brows pull together when I say that. But then he slowly walks over to my bed and sits down. I notice he is dressed in only one layer of clothing for sleeping. He takes a moment as he rests his elbows on his thighs and keeps his gaze on the ground. "It's been years since I've had deep sleep..."

"You certainly were passed out on the rooftop yesterday—"

He points an accusing finger at me. "I told you never to mention that."

I can't help but let out a dry laugh. "You don't control me Mischief God," I reply. "I thought it was my job to tease you. Besides I got damn good sleep too."

"Well then maybe we just need each other to get that," he jests and doesn't look at me.

I hesitate... and then look down at the empty spot beside me. It's enough room for him.

He notices my silence and looks over at me.

I just return his gaze as he gradually realizes I agree with his joke and am actually thinking about it. I gesture for him to come to my side as I pull the blanket aside for him to lie between me and the wall, a smirk on my lips.

He wants to scoff with amusement but he looks down from me and contemplates it, humor in his eyes. He gives up, moving and resting his back against the long pillow behind our heads, the small bed fitting us alright so long as we are hip to hip. He drapes his arm over me casually and sighs. "I hope I won't regret this," he mutters.

I give a small laugh. "How can you regret sleep?"

"I regret being with you again," he sasses. "This time you may make me suffer."

I smirk and teasingly say, "I laugh when I make you suffer this way. It brings me immense joy."