The twin

When a shadow fell on his book he gazed up. A tiny girl looked back at him.
With all the elegance he had of court training he stood up and stretched out his hand. The girl took it without hesitation and cocked her head. A spark of magic flared in the back of his mind. A slight warning. She might be dangerous.
"Elektra," she said, her accent different than their american.
"Loki of Asgard, God of Mischief and Chaos," he said politely.
Her angled head was inquisitive. She scanned him, smirked and in a shimmer of magic. His magic. That same green glow. She shifted. There were two Lokis standing opposite of each other. He stumbled back a bit.
"Wow! You're tall! You can see all the flaws people have from up here," she said in the most monotone voice. Well, his monotone voice. It was unusual to not be in control of his illusion. In glimmer of his magic she shifted back and smiled a Cheshire cat grin.
"What did you do?" Loki asked.
"My 'magic' is like a shapeshifter's skin. I mold it to my own will. So if I want to have fire powers," she opened her palm, in it a small flame. "Or ice powers," the sphere turned into an ice spike. "I can shift it how I'd like,"
"That is extremely powerful," Loki said, very peculiar form of magic. He never heard of it. Huh, interesting.
"You have pretty magic," the girl said offhandedly.
"What?" He asked, confused.
"It's old, runs deep and has seen galaxies. I would aay it's green, gold and black. Moldable like a snake. It's a pretty neat thing," she said and stuck her hand into her pocket. No one told him that.
"Thank you?" Unsure if it was a compliment.
"Yes, it's a compliment. Your magic rocks," she said, completely unbothered by the fact that she was standing in front of a supervillain.
"Thank you, Lady Elektra," he added politely.
"Drop the 'Lady'," she said and turned away, nonchalantly. She stalked over to Peter with feline grace most people didn't acquire over a lifetime. Her silent feet stepped away and Loki returned to his book. But his mind plunged and leapt from place to place where her magic touched his. The sensation in his mind, the slight shimmer of nonexistent color in his mind.
Needless to say, he didn't get much reading done.

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The next day he's reading a book when he felt a body plop down on the couch beside him. He slid his irritated gaze towards the person when he saw Elektra. She was in leopard-print pajamas. In her hand was a book. Her scent filled his space. Jasmine, coffee and something shifty. She didn't even look up as she read her book.
He tried to peak to see what she was reading and she simply rose her cover.
Chronicles of England, Scotland, Ireland by Raphael Holinshed.
He never heard of him.
"Shakespeare's plays and histories indicate that Raphael and Shakespeare had extensive links between their plays and histories," the girl commented still not looking up. "They are from 1577 and 1587, there were two editions,"
By now Loki's already put down his book and listened to the girl. She looked up and Loki truly saw her eyes. They were a vast sea of violet. The most vibrant violet. And slight black rings around her pupils that sent shards of darkness through her eyes.
"Wanna see?" She asked quietly and Loki just nodded. She flipped to the first page and leaned over to him. She wriggled her waist and came to his left side. She put the book on her crossed legs, her right leg. She leaned back on the couch and Loki felt relief at the fact she didn't shrink away from him. "It's history of England, Scotland and Ireland," she explained as she ran her fingers across the cover. "Very intresting and bodring at the same time. It's our holiday reading," her melodic voice filled his ears.
Normally no one was uo at this hour.
"Would you like some tea?" She asked and he nodded. Elektra left her book beside him and went to the kitchen.
He took the book in his hands started reading. It was in the traditional english.
Few minutes later she emerged from the kitchen. Steaming cups in her hands.
"This is the traditional Wnglish Tea, darling," she said teasingly.
Loki rose his brows at the 'darling'.
"I'm basically british at this point, love. I'm bound to pick up some traits," she continued with the nicknames and he rolled his eyes. Her delicate shoukders shook with laughter as she handed him his cup.
"How do you know how I like it?" He asked suspiciously.
"I think that what people drink resembles their personality," she said and took a sip of her tea.
He scented the cup and brought it to his lips. The bitter-sweet taste filled his mouth. The tinge of milk and utter sugar wrecked his tastebuds.
She smirked and he knew it was because she saw his pupils widen.
"Wanna trade books?" She asked jovially. Her leopard-print pajamas and wiggling eyebrows were enough to make the Allfather fall to his knees. He took his book from the coffee table and handed it to her.
"It's in croatian," she commented, "I learned croatian in middle school, it's a nightmare. But it's a beautiful language nonetheless."
And they read.