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with flowers in hand, he walks to your front porch on a cold winter's night. his hands shook as he went to ring the doorbell. he tried telling himself that they shook because he was cold, but deep down he knew it's because you made him feel something else– not evil, but warmth.
he rung the doorbell and you answered quickly with a smile.
loki froze in place, his arm extending to give you the flowers. his eyes didn't leave yours.
"damn, (y/n)," he breathed.
"is that a good 'damn' or bad 'damn'," you joked.
"oh its good! tremendous! great! you're great! i'm going to shut up now," he babbled, scratching the back of his neck. you couldn't help but laugh. "shall we?"
