Loki and Thranduil Imagines

I'll be there for you (Loki/Reader)

The pitter patter of the rain was soothing to be heard. It was raining heavily in the city of Michigan that Saturday night. The strike of lightnings and the deafening roar of thunders did not phase her.

Not one bit.

She was sitting in the patio, with her back against the wall. A solemn look on her face as she continue marvelling at the dark sky.

A hand on the floor, she pushed herself up and walked out to the rain. The feeling of skin against her skin was welcoming. She threw her head back and closed her eyes. The sound of rain drowning out all of the noises in her head.

She flinched when she was suddenly engulfed from behind. The hands snaked around before settling on her waist, bringing her back close to his chest. Her head immediately hung down, ashamed to see him.

Ashamed because she was weak.

Ashamed because she could never win the war that ragging in her.

She did not deserve this.

None of the goodness in the world and the one who always be her side.

The one that should not be responsible for all of her baggage.

Her failure.

His embrace tightened and she grew lax in his warmth.

The question was so loud from such a simple gesture from him.

"I had a bad dream again." 

More like a memory.

"You shouldn't stand in the rain (Y/N). You'll get a cold."

Her knees felt so weak. Weak like a newborn calf.  Feeling her form slowly crumpling down, he slowly easing her to a sitting position on the wet ground in the middle of the back garden.

Warm tears mixed with the cold rain. Hiding the evident that she was crying save for her red eyes. He pulled her into his lap and shushed her. Rocking back and forth to calm her down.

Unable to hold it back, a sob broke from her and she cried.

"Why is this happening to me Loki?" She turned and buried her face in his chest. Clutching on his shirt as hard as could.

It was too much.

"It should have been me Loki! Me not him! Not Simon!"

Loki slowly pushed her back a little and cupped  her face. His eyes bore into her soul, daring her to look away from his intense look.

A hand move away and she missed the warm but not long after that he used the free hand to brush away the wet hair that plastered to her face. His touch was so tender. Like he was afraid to hurt her. Like he was fragile.

Somehow the thought of him thinking her as someone that is broken and need protection hurt her.

But that was she was isn't she?

Broken.

"How many time had I told you (Y/N)? The past is the past. There is nothing you can do. Not matter how much you beg, no matter how hard to kneel and pray Simon won't come back. He won't."

She shook her head in denial.

"You-you don't understand. It was my fault! My fault!"

Another thunder sounded from far away.

"No (Y/N), it's not your fault!"

She scrambled from his lap and looked at him like he just betrayed her.