There are no men like me

Courting?The Prince Language

It had been a little over a fortnight since the eve that his nightmares began. Or since the eve that I began to see them. We had settled into a routine of sorts, we never stayed for very long at one place...He was constantly moving us around making sure we stayed ahead of everyone that might be looking for us. He had an uncanny ability of finding lonesome places.

Our sleeping arrangements stayed relatively the same. He wouldn't sleep for 2 to 3 days and when I urged him to take some rest, he would always handcuff me to him. Never did he let his eyes fall shut until my breathing had evened out.

Loki would find us a place with a working bathroom and mostly a bed. The apartments we stayed at ,were in no ways lavish but it hardly mattered to Loki. While my face scrunched up in disgust at some of the houses, he didn't as much as falter in his gaze.

It seemed odd to me. Considering that he was a Prince, he should be really cranky about this stuff.

As far as I knew from the 'Mythology reveal' that came on T.V. . Asgard was a planet of luxuries and amenities. The other guy, Thor?... had called it the Golden Realm. I had even heard its other names that all indicated towards its...beguiling nature.

Then why? Why was Loki so unfazed about these miserable conditions? How could he so easily offer the bed to me, when he knew he would have to spend the night in a rickety old chair?

Curiosity had always been a sore point of mine. So I asked him. We were in a car, a new 'stolen' one. His eyes held the road. His focus unwavering. I was seated in the passenger seat. My legs previously resting on the dashboard, had been yanked down with one swipe of Loki's hands.

" How come you are not disturbed by these horrid places we are staying in?" I had kept my tone soft, yet a hint of curiosity mixed with irritation had showed. He was fucking royalty, and was unbothered, and me, a commoner, was whining on and about. It irritated me to no extent.

His eyes found mine, and for a moment it looked like he was about to snap, but then he turned his head and sighed defeatedly.

"I've seen worse." He replied in monotone. I opened my mouth to ask him more, but I swallowed back my question when I saw him flexing his hands at the steering wheel. No doubt trying to control his anger.

He had serious anger issues, and ego issues, and trust issues. Two weeks and his distrustful nature had not changed. In fact it only got worse. He was incredibly protective of me. He rarely took his eyes off me when were in public and hardly let me wander a few paces away from him.

His nightmares had not stopped. No matter how much my mind screamed at me to stay away from him. One look at the pure terror on his face, and my limbs automatically pulled me towards him. Whenever he yelled , he couldn't hear me saying his name. Touching him was the only way to bring him back from his dreams.

His reactions were aggressive, if not downright deadly. Luckily, he used to come back to his senses pretty quick, so I was never injured too badly. Up till now, I had one bruise on my neck, two on my wrists and one on my waist. He was never too happy with this. Even though he would never admit it, I know it made him feel guilty. He demanded that I stop waking him up.

Each time I blatantly ignored his orders and woke him up with a timid touch, he got angry with me. His manhandling the next day would be more aggressive. His stares a lot harsher...but he no longer waited for me to comfort him. He would take my hand and dwarf it in his own, and stare at our interlocked fingers till he calmed down.

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