Of Gods and Memories (LokixFemaleReader) [COMPLETED]

31

This picture makes my heart hurt, here you go. I've decided that I'm putting a picture up with each chapter I post, even if it isn't related to the story

*Loki's POV because I'm so fucking bored*

                I say goodbye to (Y/N) about an hour before she's scheduled to fight. We stand awkwardly facing each other by the doorway into the area where the "prisoners with jobs" are kept, both painfully aware this could be the last time we see each other.

                "I um..." she presses her lips together, looking down at the floor. "God fucking dammit!" She explodes, stomping one foot on the ground and glaring. "I'm not saying goodbye to you," she tells me bluntly, "it's just a "seeya later," ok?"

                "Ok," I smile, because it's so her to say that. Lifting a hand to caress her cheek, I ask, "in that case, may I kiss you "seeya later"?" She nods, and I press my lips against hers. I'll never get tired of kissing (Y/N), no matter how many times I do it.

                When I step back, I see that there are tears in her eyes. She turns her face away, biting her lip and sniffing hard.

                "Fuck," she mutters, then rushes forwards very forcefully throws her arms around my neck. I almost stumble as I catch her, lifting her up and pressing my face into her soft hair. She's shaking with what I soon realise are sobs, and I hold her even closer.

                "It's just seeya later," I whisper against her neck, and she lets out a tearful huff of laughter.

                "I promised myself I wouldn't break down," she sniffs, "but man, I fucking suck at keeping promises." Holding her against me, I think I finally understand what mortal novelists mean when they refer to "the physical pain of parting." It's like a deep ache in my chest, like the muscle of my heart is cramping. I don't know what I'd do if I lost (Y/N), and I definitely don't want to find out.

                "You'll be alright," I say gently, placing her back on the ground and brushing a piece of hair off her face.

                "Yeah," she draws a shaky breath in, nodding as if convincing herself. "I'll be fine." She places a quick kiss on my cheek, then smiles at me. "See?" she says, "I'm fine."

                "Yes," I take her hands in mine, memorising the feeling of her small fingers interlaced with my longer ones, fixing every detail in my mind. "Now go and be a hero."

                "Seeya later," she says, giving my hands a final squeeze before releasing them and turning to go.

                "(Y/N)!" I call as she walks away. She stops, spinning to face me with one eyebrow raised.

                "Yeah?"

                "I love you."

                "I love you too." And then she's gone, swallowed up by the doors closing behind her.

                I settle myself uneasily on the edge of my seat, shifting with nerves as I wait for (Y/N) to appear. It's only a few minutes before the announcer starts going on about placing bets, which I refuse to do.

                "And now," the announcer says, "our first contestant. Please welcome... (Y/N)!" The doors at one end of the arena roll slowly open, and the crowd cheers. Standing there, looking remarkably small, is (Y/N). I notice idly that her head has been shaved, leaving a rough covering of (y/h/c) fuzz instead of the longer yellow-tipped hair I've become used to. I realise that I've vagued out staring at her new haircut, which is silly. The announcer is now heralding the Grandmaster's champion, and the crowd is going completely insane.