Loki's fall (sequel to loss and Loki)

Cityscapes Turn To Dust

"For fuck's sake Loki just quit, I'm not going anywhere." I snapped, losing my patience as he let out a low, agitated growl and backed me into a wall, his eyes gleaming with a cruel anger, washing down in crimson waves over the hurt that shone out like a dulled headlight from his stare.

He opened his mouth to snap something back, pinning me in place with the powerful fury in his glower, before shutting it again, exhaling shakily, his cool breath quivering with blood red frustration, digging into me like spears of frozen venom. My eyelids shuttered closed for a second, accommodating the pain his slow breaths and cold stare served me.

"Loki." I breathed slowly, my eyelids fluttering open as my eyes begged to gaze upon his stunning, cerulean complexion once more, and lose myself in his scarlet gaze just as I did every time I gazed deep enough, to find myself slipping, edging closer to the turbulent, hypnotic insanity that lay within them.

I took another stuttering breath, finding my grounding before I spoke again.

"I'm not running." I practically whispered, taking a deep breath to clear the haze that had melted over my vision, knocking me dizzy.

"I won't." I spoke again, more confidently as I chewed my cheek and rolled my eyes at his responding scoff and sneer.

"If I found you repulsive, I wouldn't be fucking standing here right now."

"Oh is that right?" He growled, his tone cruel, feigning apathy, though we both caught onto the pained shudder that curled off of his glassy words as they rang out in the toxic air between us. But I braved every shard that carved into my chest, biting back a wince as each one constricted my chest. I just gritted my teeth, staring strongly into his blood red depths as I fought for the right words weaving between every screaming thought that ran wild in my head.

"So tell me why I can't take my damned eyes off of you." I spat out, my wounded query seemingly rhetorical as I spoke, but it was the one question circling my mind and I couldn't think for the life of me, of a suitable answer. And I needed one. I needed this reasoning as much as I needed the air flowing deeply into my lungs as I struggled to fight for breath at his demanding stare.

His eyes flickered with a solemn wariness, lighting up his painstakingly transparent gaze as I watched him swallow thickly, not quite believing the words that hung tragically in the air between our breaths, burning brightly with a truth I couldn't have faked if his life had depended on it. I sighed, biting my cheek as I took his hand, ignoring him when his eyes narrowed and he shot me a dangerous glare. I brought it up between us, pressing it against my chest as my hand closed over his and the searing chill from his palm sent a wonderful ripple through my spine, wracking my entire body. His breath shuddered but he stayed tense, still, glaring at me.

"Tell me why my heart is fucking racing." I whispered, swallowing thickly as his eyes momentarily flickered to our hands and I tried so desperately hard to predict his next move, finding I couldn't even begin to guess. But he just blinked, his eyes flashing with loathing, but not directed at me, as his stare fell on the startling mix of our starkly different coloured hands wrapped around each other.

"Fear, most likely." He pondered scathingly.

"Don't flatter yourself." I cut back with a smirk.

"I'm not scared of you, bitch boy."

His eyes flickered briefly with a hint of amusement, quickly morphing into a playful glare of warning, which then faded and I was met again with the same, helpless anger he had held before. The same wary insecurity flooding his every expression. I'd almost thought, just for a second, that he'd begun to believe the vulnerable truth I was stripping myself of for him. But then the cold mask had started shifting over his stare, deepening in his frown and I felt my heart race, suddenly desperate for something from him. Anything.