/:/ Loki's POV~ /:/
We sat on the couch, both of us still waiting to completely dry off from the rain that poured down outside. Nyanna had fixed us both hot tea, though I continually made an effort to convince her I wouldn't get sick and that the cold was something I thoroughly enjoyed. We were watching something on the television, though I doubt either of us were really watching it, we were both tired, and I know, for myself, that my mind was other places other than whatever was playing. Nyanna, I couldn't speak for, but she seemed content, with her knees pulled to her chest, and mug full of tea to her lips, lazily staring at the television. I nearly smiled, she was such a wonderful sight.
I watched as her finger dangled from the handle of the mug and trailed its way up to the ends of her hair. The smile that had its impression in my heart suddenly turned to fear and sadness. In the time I had been with her, she had this impulse to continually pull at her hair—I didn't know why, but I didn't question it, because I hardly thought she did, either. I hated it when she did, though, she had beautiful hair—like nothing I'd ever seen before. It was as brown as the wood of trees, and curled into coils, like a vine. I had always thought my straight, black hair was strange in the blonde populous of Asgard, but when I came to Midgard, and met Nyanna, I was truly surprised—everyone was so...different. It was almost comforting.
I watched as she persisted to curl and tug at the ends of her hair, eventually moving her fingers closer to their roots, whilst she was mindless of its havoc. I felt helpless, and I hated that feeling, so I was determined to help her in some way, even if it meant she shunned me.
I stealthily shifted my hand from its folded position across my chest, and used my new-found Jotunn abilities to make my hand as cold as ice. I withheld my smirk, as my fingers crept to her waist and with a quick jolt, Nyanna nearly fell off the couch.
“What the hell was that?!” she squealed.
I couldn't help it any longer, I laughed, but ignorantly shrugged. “What happened, Nayanna?”
She glared at me, which, of course, made me laugh even more. “What did you do?” she miffed and reclaimed her comfortable position.
I settled my laughter, and looked her directly in the eye. “Every time you pull at your hair,” I crawled my fingers in front of her face like a spider, menacingly playful. “I will stop you!”
She huffed and took another drink of her tea.
I laughed again, her pouts never ceased to amuse me.
“What's so funny?” she eyed me.
I shrugged again. “You Midgardians always jump to the conclusion something is wrong...” I half-teased.
“Oh, and you don't?” she retorted and set her mug down, then turned to face me.
“Hn, but we're not talking about me, are we?” I turned to see her better, and indeed, I did. Nyanna was a shy little creature, and rarely did I get to see her full face—either that, or I was just an imbecile for not appreciating her beauty as often as I should have. Hn, I believe the latter was more accurate. I believe she noticed my gazing at her, as she seemed to blush and turn away. In seeing her do so, I wound up doing the same—which was entirely foreign to me, and surprised me greatly. But, I couldn't help myself in looking back to her—I couldn't seem to take my eyes off of her. How stupid was I for being blind!
I took a sharp breath in, sharper than I meant, which caught her attention, and she looked back to me. “Perhaps I've come up with an even better idea than the last...” I started, and gradually moved closer to her. I could see the nervousness in her eyes, I couldn't hide the anxiousness in mine, but I hoped she knew I wasn't going to hurt her—I could never even think of such a thing. Instead, I slipped my hand around her waist, and ever so gently pulled her closer to me. “Whenever you find your little fingers...” I took hold of both of her hands, that seemed to be swallowed up in my own, and brought them up. “...trailing up to your hair...I will be forced to hold you close and not let you go...” I clasped her hands and intertwined her fingers with mine. They were so warm under my cold and frozen grasp. I looked into her eyes again, though the initial fear had gone away, her maiden nervousness was still there.
She seemed to relax into my hold, but she turned away, slightly. I believed she was blushing. “Um...” she thought for a little while. “I—I suppose it's a deal...” she stuttered.
A smile found its way upon my lips, and I scooped her into my arms, where she was brought into the position of resting against my chest, our hands still enclasped.
“Hey! What're you doing?” she chuckled, startled.
I admit, it was rather abrupt. “Punishment for earlier!” I explained and held her there. “I can't let you go now...I am a man of my word.”
She didn't resist me, and I didn't push her away—I truly wondered if it would have been forever that I held her there. If so, I surely didn't mind...
