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

Chapter Sixty-Four

Rain still pelted the windows when Aislinn opened her eyes. Steve's side of the bed was empty. Rumpled, but empty. The bathroom light was on, the door ajar, the shower running. Steam wafted through the crack and over the top like some sort of spectral fog. She peered at the clock. Five-forty-nine AM.

Another dream woke her, but at least this time she wasn't sweating like crazy and her heart didn't race. Instead, she just started awake, as if someone had shouted her name in her ear.

She sank back into her pillows as the shower knobs squeaked and the water ceased. The door opened and the unmistakable sounds of Steve toweling off floated across the room.

The door opened and he strolled out, his wet hair poking up in all directions, probably from being rubbed with the towel that was now tight about his waist. She smiled as she watched him through slitted eyes. Somehow, she didn't think there would ever be a time when she didn't just like looking at him. He was just so beautiful to her. So perfect. With water beading across his broad shoulders, silvery droplets clinging to the dark hair spread across his chest and down over his belly. There would never be a time when she wouldn't inwardly sigh over just how beautiful he was, when she wouldn't feel that flash of pride that this fine specimen of a man was hers.

He padded to his dresser, opening and closing drawers without a sound, which made her smile. He didn't know she was awake. Warmth washed over her as she snuggled down to watch him dress for work in a pair of black Nike warmup pants and a white long-sleeved Under Armour Henley.

The bed lowered as he sank onto it to put on his shoes and she couldn't resist whispering, "Don't sit on me."

He jumped slightly. "Christ, Ash, are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"Sorry. I couldn't help myself."

"What're you doing up?" He lowered his left foot to the floor and crossed his right to rest it on his knee. Tugging on his other trainer, he added, "It's not even six yet. Go back to sleep, baby."

"I just woke up." She stretched her arms overhead with a low sigh and then rose onto one elbow. "I don't want to go back to sleep."

He turned toward her. "Another nightmare?"

"This one wasn't as bad. I'm not sweating."

"Ash, why don't you just tell me what you dream?"

"I just re-live the afternoon Jenna shot me, Steve. That's it. That's all it is. I look up, see the flash, and I'm lying on my back, in searing pain, staring up at the ceiling in the front hallway." She sighed, rubbing her eyes with one hand. "And I don't understand why it won't go away."

His hand curved against her cheek, warm and comforting, his thumb moving lightly along her cheekbone. "I don't know, baby. But it will. In time. It's only been two weeks, honey."

"Two weeks. Is that it? It seems like so much longer."

"Well, it's been a busy two weeks." His thumb went still. "You want me to stay home?"

"For a nightmare? No. That's silly, Steve. I'm fine." She covered his hand with hers. "Is Tracy a morning person or should I steer clear of her until she's had her coffee?"

"Wait until she's had her coffee," he advised, leaning over to brush her lips with a quick kiss. He repeated the motion, murmuring, "I like this."

"Steve, wait—"

His kiss cut off the rest of her protest as he shifted, pressing her back into the pillows. He pulled back far enough to whisper, "Send me to work with a smile, Ash."