I’ve slept on hard rock before, beneath actually visible galaxies and possibly in a staring contest with a few aliens who might even be dead by now from all the light years between our realms. I never uttered a complaint. The white strokes that appeared every now and then made up for the barely-felt pain in the ass. Loki’s breaths would be my music and mine would be his. Every night like that, I remained wide awake to wish on every star I see falling. I was up until three, or until I drift into sleep listening to Loki’s heartbeat.
But now I’m helplessly and desperately trying to sleep on a decent bed without anyone to keep me preoccupied with a heartrhythm. Tonight, I could be seeing more shooting stars than on any other night I’ve watched before. I curse light pollution. I curse my eyes for not having the power required to pierce the light barrier. Worse, Loki isn’t here. He’s not much of a city person. Annoyingly, tears start to fall.
Just then, a painfully familiar green light shimmered. Loki.
“Miss me?” He teased.
“How are you here? In a hotel? At three in the morning?” I asked, drying my cheeks before he noticed.
“Are you seriously asking me that question? I’m offended.” he answers with the most unoffended facial expression.
“I thought you hated light pollution.” I whispered, still incredulous.
“I know you do too. Which is why tonight, I am at your service.”
A ton of magic happens in a flash of green light. We do a little walking and waiting, and after a few, we arrive at the rooftop.
"Nice try, I still can’t see a star. Let’s just-" he doesn’t let me finish. A final green-light-show happens. My jaw drops.
I was staring at more stars than I’ve ever seen in my life. A star shot across the sky every five seconds. The sky was bright with purple galaxy-clouds. Tears betray me again.
"Are these Earth’s constellations?" I say with barely a sound.
"Consider this an early Christmas present." Loki smirks and puts an arm around me.
I remain speechless. I just count the stars and feel Loki play with my hair as he counts too. I didn’t fall asleep until I got to fifteen hundred, not until I was too dazzled to count, not until I saw the faintest hint of sunrise, not until he kissed my head and hummed a lullaby.
