Muffins - Loki & Ylva alternate universe stories

The handler VIII

Author's note:
Because this last chapter was so long (nearly 4.000 words) I chopped it in half. Two chapters for the price of one! Enjoy!

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I sleep like the dead for seventeen hours. When I finally wake up a small part of my brain expects - no, hopes - to find Loki next to me in bed, though rationally I know that was a different Loki. I don't even know if he remembers everything that went on when he wasn't in his right mind. Who knows, maybe to him it is like nothing happened! I don't think that really is the case, but until I talk to him my brain plays one hypothetical scenario after the other.

In the bathroom I give myself a scare when I look in the mirror: my throat is black and blue and so is the general area of my split eyebrow. I look like I've been through hell, even though it could have been far worse. Dressing myself is a bit painful because of my arm, though again, it could have been far worse than just a flesh wound.

I spend the next couple of days in bed and on my couch, ordering food in and binge watching Netflix series. I stay away from Orange is the new black, even though there is a brand new season waiting for me. I think about Loki enough already as it is, I don't have to be reminded about the dark-haired man who shared this couch with me. And my bed, although I was asleep for most of that. I miss having him around, it was nice. It felt strangely normal to share my days with the prince of Asgard.

The picture of us at the gala has found its way from my dresser to my nightstand. The memory of dancing with him that night plays over and over in my mind. Looking back, I don't think I fell for him in the past week, I already fell for him on that dance floor.
I am waiting for him to show up at my door. Sometimes I have the feeling he's standing right behind me, though he is never there when I turn around. At first, I believe Loki will return to me as soon as he can. But after four days doubt sinks in. I haven't heard from him; no phone call, no text message, nothing. Surely he would have contacted me by now?

When I return to work another couple of days later - not yet cleared for field duty - I am confronted with Loki in the stack of paperwork that is waiting for me, yet the real God of Lies is nowhere in sight.

The night I get home from my first day back at work I decide I'm going to call Loki myself. After all, I have his number, why should I wait for him to contact me? I get my phone out and scroll through my contacts until I get to the L. My finger hovers over his name. You know what? I'm gonna make myself some dinner first!

What if I imagined all the chemistry between us? Maybe he was only this familiar with me because of my powers. It wouldn't be the first time for that to happen; there's a reason why I never had a relationship that lasted longer than a couple of months. If you spend enough time with me, you develop some sort of immunity for my powers; at least for the normal dose I am broadcasting in everyday situations. My family wouldn't have a life otherwise! It is a good thing, because I don't have to shield off all the time when I'm around people from my inner circle. It has killed some relationships in the bud though, when the mutual attraction turned out to be fueled by my powers.

Something I always liked about Loki is that he never really seemed that influenced by me. However, I know now he does feel my powers; he even likes it and doesn't want me to shield off. Yet what do I gain from that knowledge when he disappears to Asgard without a word?

I should call him, I really should. As his handler and friend from work I have good reason to. I don't necessarily have to talk about that time he slept in my bed or that time we almost kissed, or when he called me 'love', or that time we hugged and I almost didn't want to let him go.
On the other hand, I can make myself a cup of tea first. Taking a shower is nice too.