Loki X Reader || Girl With The Gold Earring

18 | Green Velvet

Y/N followed close at Loki's heels, her pace having to remain brisk to keep up with them, curious expectation fueling her with enough energy to do so. A slight tilt of Loki's head, a flick of his eyes, revealed that he'd noticed her effort, however, and he slowed his own elegant strides to accommodate Y/N's much shorter legs. She smiled in thanks, and settled into a much more comfortable rhythm, watching the nubbed point of her canvas slippers as not to kick his shins.

This was made difficult by the fact that he'd slowed down even more.

And some more, until he eventually drew to a sluggish halt.

Question rose from Y/N's lungs but got caught in her throat as one of Loki's large, deliberate hands reached out and took her wrist. Gently, he tugged her closer until she was level with his side.

"You don't need to walk behind me," he pointed out, his cool, tender grip releasing Y/N's arm as he set into another walk.

-- ❈ --

It felt wrong walking in line with a member of the royal family. Like slamming a door in a Queen's face, or asking a King to go fetch her some water. It isn't even a written rule that the help should scurry along behind royalty's ankles, it's just another one of those things all servants and staff just seem to...know.

But there had been a tautness to Loki's voice, a pleading edge that reminded Y/N of something he'd told her. About how people only ever see him as a prince, how they're too scared to treat him like a person.

She wants him to know she sees him as a person. She sees him.

So, smiling shyly, Y/N matched his steps, their legs moving in unison. Their feet began to line up, falling into a comfortable tempo, his bony and bare and as pale as the marble they tread on, Y/N's slippered and much much smaller.

Y/N didn't know whether to be excited or apprehensive about what Loki had to show her, and her blood only flooded with more adrenaline when she realised he was leading her to his bedroom. What could he possibly want to show her in here?

Well, she could think of one thing. Several things.

Despite this, she didn't slow down or falter.

She'd long since admitted to herself that she has a primal kind of fascination with the prince's long, sinewy body. She can't help but wonder whether the parts of him she hasn't seen are as magnificent as the parts she has; sleek, silken, inky hair, jutting ridges and hills of bone, supple muscles sliding below ethereal moon-beam skin.

Anticipation of what comes after showing Y/N his body hadn't really begun to take shape, even as Loki pushed open the door and motioned for her to follow him inside. If it had, she may have faltered, or at least hesitated.

A prude, bashful mind meant she hadn't yet questioned whether she'd be willing to---would like to do---anything the prince may be about to ask of her. Not even in the secure fortress of her thoughts, or the dark, shaded area at the back of her consciousness had Y/N turned the idea over. She hadn't needed to; when several days had passed under Loki's employment and he still hadn't asked her to bed, Y/N made some assumptions about his character and the nature of their relationship. She'd assumed that he isn't that kind of prince---that kind of man.

But had she been wrong?

And, if she had; does she mind?

The doorjamb passes Y/N's eyeline like teeth edging a gaping mouth, and she swallows, her mind running away with mental images of---