Loki took her limp hand, pleading with his eyes, but his heart was breaking every time she looked away. He was too afraid to say anything, for fear of his voice breaking down completely.
"Look at me, my love- please," he said without thinking. Rather than him breaking down, she gave out a huge, heart-wrenching sob. Her breaths were shaky and he realized that she had been avoiding eye contact because, when he did steal a glance at her wonderful hazel eyes, they were puffy and bloodshot from crying. She kept shaking her head, and her shoulders were trembling, causing her strands of dark brown hair hanging from her loose bun to quiver.
She wiped her face with her jacket sleeve before she collected herself to speak. "Loki," she began. His heart twanged with pain, hearing all that anguish and sadness in his name made him want to embrace her and protect her from it all forever. But it was too late.
"It's too late," she echoed his thoughts. "I c-can't be with you. It has to be this way."
"Why not?" Loki half-whispered. "Isadora, at least tell me why you cannot. Is it because—because of," he hesitated, about to voice his worst possible fear.
But she already knew what he was going to say. She nodded, and took a deep breath, allowing herself to prepare for a longer speech. "I can't apologize, Loki. I waited for you. I waited for so long I—I couldn't even live my own life anymore. I was in this awful rut, I just couldn't go on, and then Ian—"
So he had a name, he thought as he dropped her hand and unconsciously rubbed his eyes. A raging flood of anger swelled up in Loki, who had the sudden urge to strangle this stupid boy named Ian. But he stopped seething for a fleeting moment to keep on listening.
"Ian saved me, Loki. If it weren't for him, I don't know if I would still be here today." Isadora looked at Loki, drenched from walking through the rain to get to her apartment. The warm glow of the light was glinting off the gold trimming of his armor, wet and shining. His black hair was longer and its usual slicked back style had been ruffled by the wind outside, giving him a more rugged look than usual. He looked positively beautiful. But the pain etched on Loki's face made her hurt, but she tried to be brave as she kept on saying her piece. Don't slip up, you rehearsed this so you wouldn't fuck up, she thought angrily to herself.
She broke her gaze and stared intently at the fireplace. "Ian needs me, and—and I need him. He was always there for me." That last sentence sent a searing pain through Loki, like a backhanded slap to the face.
"But, Isadora, you must understand," he pleaded, trying to grab her shoulders so that she would look at him, but Isadora got up and walked toward the kitchen. He got up and followed her. "It was because I was trapped in that wormhole, I didn't know that I would be gone for that long—"
"Don't give me that bullshit," she spat over her shoulder. "You and I both know you had it planned all along, to trick Thor into throwing you over the Bifrost so that you could wreak vengeance on Asgard and Earth. You were two steps ahead of everyone else, and the more time you gave me to figure it out, the more it made sense. I mean nothing to you, I'm just a pawn in your stupid game." Loki tried to protest, but she shook her head silently, shutting him up quickly.
"You're too late, my love," she said sadly.
Hope you guys enjoy! This was kind of a one-shot but I'm thinking that if I get enough comments/reviews on this then I may expand this whole idea I have in my head with Loki and Isadora. So, let me know if you like it! :)