Loki looked down at the woman where she lay, sprawled under a mess of blankets on the couch. Her face seemed so peaceful in sleep. The lines that had etched through her skin were gone, and her hair fell in waves around her face. The anxiety that he was used to seeing there was gone, and for a moment he almost forgot she was a mortal. Almost. He knelt down and touched her face, gently, brushing away a few strands of hair that had fallen in her face. Now that the adrenaline and the chaos of the previous evening was over he felt a small amount of guilt for what he had put her through, but it passed quickly to be replaced by the cool apathy and resentment that had plagued him for months.
When the woman woke she was greeted by two cool green eyes. She blinked her own, trying to clear them of the last dregs of sleep.
"Good morning," he said softly. He was not smiling- she had yet to see him do so, but there was no trace of hostility in him now. Looking up at him, she found it hard to believe that mere months ago this was the man who had invaded this city with an army of other worldly beasts. She could well remember the day, and while she hadn't seen Loki himself, she had caught a distant glimpse of the "Avengers" from her apartment window, and certainly she'd seen the monsters Loki had brought in with him through the chasm in the sky.
Today, though, there seemed to be a disconnect in her mind. She simply couldn't associate that day's events with this face. She had imagined an angry, brooding beast of a man. Tall though he was, this man was thin and had a foreign elegance about him. And all she could see in his face was weariness, and was it… a little pain?
"Good morning," she answered shortly, turning her face away from him. She sat up and made to stand, but as she put her weight on her feet pain lanced up her left leg from her ankle. She gasped and began to fall, but a pair of arms caught her before she could crumple to the floor. She resisted the urge to push him away.
"Lie back down," Loki murmured. He guided the mortal woman back to the couch. She did as she as told and laid down across the cushions. She watched the trickster warily, but she had not the energy to try and make him leave her alone.
She had decided that she would be cautious. He seemed tame enough if left un-angered, and she didn't want to be the one to disrupt that. She had lain awake for long hours the night before, trying to think of a way out of this situation, but could see no way of getting away without arousing his suspicion. He was always watching. So for now she would wait. And watch.
Loki propped her left foot using some pillows she must have knocked to the ground in her sleep. She felt like a child again. How many times had she sat on the counter top or lain across the couch while her father pulled out splinters or helped her apply a Band-Aid to a new cut?
Loki reached out a hand and wrapped it around her ankle. She gasped. His hand was startlingly, bitingly cold.
"Is this some kind of magic?" she asked.
"Not quite," he said, not looking at her. He had put his other hand on her ankle too now, and seemed to be icing it with his hands. She flinched at his touch.
"What are you, Jack Frost or something?" Looked like the sarcasm was back on. He raised an eyebrow at her.
There was a long silence as Loki worked before she finally broke.
"You know," she said, "I think I have ice packs in the fridge. Then you don't have to sit here like that." She looked at him expectantly. The whole situation was beginning to unnerve her.
"Excuse me, in the what?" he asked.
"The refridg- oh, sorry, you don't know," she said. How the heck did they keep things cold where he came from? She twisted around and pointed towards the kitchen. "See that tall white box thing?"
Loki nodded.
"That's the fridge."
Loki got up and crossed into the kitchen with a few long strides. Goodness, he was tall.
"Now just open it and the ice packs should be in a pocket on the inside of the door. Careful, though, it's going to be cold-" she stopped short as he pulled open the door, seemingly unphased by the blast of cold air. His eyes scanned the inside of the door and he pulled out a slightly squashy blue object.
"Is this it that you are looking for?" he asked, and held it up. She nodded and he brought it to her. She took it and held it to her ankle. It soothed her throbbing ankle, but she had to admit it didn't work quite as well as Loki's hands had been. She wondered, again, why they had been so cold, but dared not ask. He may seem calm now, but a man who had tried to subjugate the human race probably would feel no qualms in killing one mortal woman. What had he called her? Midgardian, that was it.
Quite suddenly Loki stood and strode away from the woman. He stopped before the wide floor to ceiling window that made up most of the wall. From here he was afforded a magnificent view of the street far below. He could even snatch a glimpse of central park in the distance. The city was already wide awake and buzzing with cars and people.
The woman twisted on the couch to watch him. He looked quite thin without the layers of metal and leather he had worn the night before. He wore only a lose fitting green shirt and his pants and boots.
"You never told me your name, Midgardian," Loki said without turning, hands clasped behind his back.
"Vera," she said.
He didn't answer.