The Rise of Hel {Loki Laufeyson} Book Two

Chapter Sixteen

I wake up wrapped in the arms of someone.
It was all just a bad dream - I'm going to look up and Loki will be cuddling me because none of that actually happened,is my immediate thought until I look up at the sleeping face of Peter Parker illuminated by the moonlight streaming through my bedroom window. His chest rises and falls underneath his thin, black t-shirt, his arms braced around my small frame.
I stare at him for a little while, confused as to how he got here. Where did he come from? Why are we in my room? When did he get here?
Red blotches appear in the bottom right corner and I look down, remembering my bloody hand. The memories come swirling back, the wine cellar, August, my attempt at closing a door but failing miserably.
I groan and try to roll away, but he wakes, his mucles tensing for just a second. "What?"
"Nothing. I'm just reliving my mistake of a life." I huff and he smirks.
"What are you talking about?"
"How the hell did I get here?" I avert the subject from myself. I don't want to talk about me for once - I want another story.
"You were drunk and you tried to close a door in my face, but ended up missing completely and falling. So, I brought you up here, but by the time we reached your door, you had passed out. So I just stayed the night."
"Well," I slip out of his grip, standing. Immediately, my vision blurs, black dots dancing across. I feel sick and my head is throbbing. I need something to eat - something greasy. "do you want to get something eat, maybe?"
He sits up, giving me a strange look. "You just woke up. What the hell could you possibly want to eat?"
"Well, jesus Peter! I need an Asprin and a burger or some shit like that. So shut up and let's go somewhere!"
He roll his eyes. "Well then get some Asprin and go back to sleep. It's," He stops, checking his watch. "4:06 in the damn morning. I'm not leaving this room without a better reason than a hangover."
"Fine. Then I'll drive myself."
He huffs. "Becca, it's Christmas morning - I doubt anyone will be open on Christmas."
I sit next to him on the bed, looking down him. "Peter - you owe me."
"For what? If anything, you owe me." He laughs.
"You've been such a piss off lately that you at least owe me a burger. Then, we'll be even and we can go back to ignoring each other for the rest of our lives."
He squints at me, sitting up. "Do you even listen to yourself when you talk? Like, do you understand what you just said-"
"Yes, I think I understand the english language-" I quip.
"I mean seriously! Do you understand how moronic you sounded just now-" He shakes his head, smiling cockily.
"I can't believe you're bringing up moronic!" I sneer.
"Excuse me? What the hell is that supposed to mean-" He cuts me off, growling.
"Look! Can we just please go to a burger joint and get something greasy? Please?" I plead, giving up on our pointless argument.
"Fine. F**k it - let's go." He stands up, opening the door and looking back at me. "You coming or not, Talbot?"
***
Our booth is in the back, surrounded by other booths and windows. And with the restaurant being empty, we wait for a very short period of time. My stomach growls with each piece of our order that is placed on the tray, everything steaming and freshly fried. With the black void of a stomach I have, I can practically smell the grease that will aid me in getting over this monster.
I successfully balance the blue tray with all of the food, plus the dipping sauces, careful not to further hurt my hand, as I make my way over to Peter who is sitting alone and guarding our seats. I set it down, plucking my order off and starting to unwrap it. I dig in, ripping my burger to shreds and wolfing down my fries after drowning them in ketchup.
Peter reaches out, stopping me. "You're going to choke and I'm not First-Aid certified therefore, I cannot help you - nor do I know how to." He leans back, starting to unwrap his own order.
I talk through my mouthful of burger. "Aren't you supposed to take the First-Aid course in eighth grade?"
"Yeah, and I did. But when I applied for the internship at Oscorp, they told me that my First-Aid training was invalid. Turns out, it has an expiration date of three years after you've received it." He says matter-of-factly and I laugh, almost choking on my burger.
He bites into his burger and mayo squirts onto his face. I refrain from giggling as I pass him a napkin, telling him: "You have a little something on your whole face." He laughs and wipes his face, spreading the mayo even more.
I sigh. "I've missed this."
He savagely bites into his burger again. "Missed wahht?" He says, his voice muffled.
"Us talking." He looks down, swallowing and then taking a sip of his drink. "No matter how much you annoy the hell out of me."
"Well, we all know why..."
I frown, shrugging and throw my trash onto the tray. "You know what, forget it. Forget I ever brought it up."
He swallows hard. "No no no no no, you know what - no. Let's talk about it."
"Well now I don't want to."
"But I do."
"Well I don't so let it go."
"Let it go, let it go! Can't hold it back anymoreeeeeee!" He sings and I clamp a hand over his mouth, giggling.
"You loser." I tease and he smiles.
He glances down. His long eyelashes cast shadows over his cheek bones. "Okay, maybe I have missed this."
I smirk, throwing a fry at him. He catches it in his mouth. "I blamed you for something I thought you did. But you couldn't help it. I keep thinking that she'll come back to me someday, but I know that'll never happen now."
I blink rapidly, pursing my lips and averting his gaze. "I want her back too." I mutter before I know what I'm doing.
He reaches across the table, taking my hand in his. "I know." He whispers. He checks his phone, showing me the time. "We should go home now, but this was... nice."
I smile. "Like old times."
He nods. "Yeah, only... never-mind." He shakes his head but furrows his brows again, rubbing his temples.
I get up, grabbing the tray and throwing out our garbage, signalling him to follow me.

He pulls up to the door and I hop out, feeling extremely better than I had when I first woke up. Mind you, I still feel slightly nauseous, but that's normal with a hangover... I think.
As he puts the car in drive, I tap on the window and he rolls it down. "Thanks, Pete." I say and he smiles warmly.
"No problem, Beck. I'll see you around." He looks through the windshield, attempting to drive away again but I stop him once more.
"Hey, Peter?"
"Yeah?"
"Merry Christmas." I nod, pursing my lips. His features soften, nodding along with me.
"Merry Christmas, Becca." He finishes and the window rolls up, the car taking off down the road.
As I walk up the driveway, I find myself thinking about forgiveness. I've forgiven Peter, he's forgiven me, why can't I forgive Loki? He accidentally gave me the best year of my life, so what am I blaming him for if I enjoyed every single second of it - even the bad parts?
Glancing down at my ring, I contemplate tapping it, but leave it alone, deciding that I've already made a mess of thing with him, so why mess it up more by trying to fix it?
Because, as I've learned over these past few weeks, I break everything I try to fix.