Frozen By Love (A Stoki Fic) {UNDER EDITING}

Chapter 14

Loki's POV

I get off the counter, pushing my body towards the living room, where Steve's laptop lays, beckoning me to put in his cheesy password and type.

Instead, I put the cups from the table into the dishwasher, clearing the table, giving a half smile at my good work, my feet bringing me to Steve's room.

If described as dirty, even that would yield itself an understatement. His room looked like a war had passed through, sheets everywhere, clothes littering the floor, pillows thrown this way and that. It looked more like a crashed hotel room after a drunk party.

I smirk as I take in the mess, remembering the events from last night; my body heating up at the memories of Steve's hands on my body, mine on his, our lips touching hungrily, teeth biting lips, tongues lashing and flicking in a war, hips bucking against each other.

"I could get used to that." I say aloud to myself, walking over to Steve's closet to find some clothes, not carrying if he's angry.

"Anger is what makes the sex fun." I smirk, feeling my mischievous self coming back, fingers twitching for power, the power of the Teseract running through my head, the way it felt to kill those people...

Instead though, I grab a pull-over blue sweatshirt and black sweatpants, shrugging as I move my train of thought.

"I should shower... it's been ages since I've actually bathed. How repulsive, truly. Asgard always knows how to treat its prisoners." The last words come out as a growl, anger pumping faster through my veins once more.

I grit my teeth to fight the urge, moving to the adjacent bathroom to Steve's room, gently tossing the clothes into the toilet lid.

I sigh, putting a hand to my throbbing forehead, urges and thoughts scrambling through my skull, and will they let me be today I cannot tell. They're worse than usual though, as I open knobs on doors, finally finding the towels, grabbing a flagged towel and tossing it atop the clothes.

My fingers twitch as I turn on the shower, the scorching water creating steam as it makes contact with the stark contrast of the coldness of the white porcelain tub.

I run a shaky hand through my long hair, then removing the little clothing covering my toned figure, my god skin glowing in the artificial lights.

Stepping into the shower, with the hot steam and pulse of water on my skin, makes me almost moan, the feeling so blissful.

I close my eyes, cleaning my hair throughly and multiple times, working on the layers and layers of pent up grime on my skin and hair from Asgard, finally washing away everything that was that Realm.

After standing in the shower for an eternity, I get out, the mirror all fogged up. I frown slightly and open the bathroom window a tad, taking the towel and clearing the mirror.

I make eye contact with my reflection and almost recoil. My eyes narrow, wanting to be stronger and not to feel so weak, my hair becoming straight, not curling at the ends as it usually does, indicating its too long.

I grunt disapprovingly at myself, quickly putting on Steve's clothes and making my way back to his room to tidy up a bit.

I start with the bed, making it neatly as I pull the covers up and off the carpeted floor, making the bed look pristine, and like nothing heated happened in it.

Next I work on collecting the clothe off the floor, a mix of his and mine, and walk back to the bathroom, tossing them into the laundry bin with the rest of his clothes piled in there, naming the bin full.

I run the towel quickly through my hair and toss that in as well.

"In the name of Odin I'm like a housewife." I grumble, grabbing the basin and taking it with me to the living room, my eyes scanning the room for the laundry room, or at least a washer and dryer of sorts.

A door at the opposite room catches my vision, and I strut over there, hoping for the best.

Low and behold, its a laundry room. A bit small with its 10 by 10 area, the white colored walls not helping any and two large appliances occupying half the space, its a bit of a tight squeeze in some places.

The basin goes on top of the dryer, and I open the lid to the white washer, and dump all the clothes in, lowly humming to myself, the empty basin being placed aside.

The washer starts its cycle, its humming in tune with mine. I leave the basin there for when I finish the load.

Entering the living room, I check the time. He has been gone for barely an hour.

Sighing I move to the couch, grabbing his laptop and placing it upon my open lap.

"Might as well get started on that book I want to write." My words reverberate off the empty walls, my fingers clacking on the keyboard,my body settling in for the writing.