There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of merit or sense. (Austin, 1813, p.160)
"Elizabeth," I sighed speaking softly, "you can be so cynical; despite the truth in your words."
My attention was ripped as the silence around me was smothered by a melody of shattered glass echoing down the hallway. I turned my head slightly waiting for any sound to finish the symphony, to tell me how it ends.
"Loki?!" I called, hoping it was him and nothing more nefarious. Barring Loki, there wouldn't be anyone welcome in attendance and he wasn't in the habit of announcing his arrival. My occupation allowing for much more of a malicious clientele. There was nothing saying that I hadn't managed to offend one to such a degree, that they would make an unwanted appearance in my home.
A strained voice rose from the hallway, "Yes Aspen, it's me!"
"Are you alright?" I said, standing.
"Oh, yes, don't let me distract you Dearest. I know you've been trying to finish that book!"
His voice continued to fade, mimicking an ombre effect of white to black fading to nothing.
"Darling?" I questioned his resolve.
Not but a whimper followed.
I stood from my desk, turned toward the door and made my way down the short hallway. Lining said hallway were pictures. Many of them were just myself and Nat, my dearest friend. A significantly better spy than I could have ever hoped to be, Natasha Romanoff was my friend, mentor, confidant, shopping partner. My favorite picture in the hallway, however, was of my favorite person and I. Loki had his arms wrapped around my shoulders, almost as if he was pulling me into frame. His smile was as big as his face and mine mirrored it. His black hair was slightly tousled and mine was a mane, but his smile, his smile made it worth it.
Another small whimper reminded me as to the reason behind my exodus and I continued my way through the living room, switching from carpet to tile as I turned the corner in to the kitchen.
When I turned that corner, I was dumbfounded to see a man on the floor. Not the God that typically called for my gaze. An emotion worn man, legs sprawled about the floor with his back against the dish washer. Who, when his gaze met mine, covered his face quickly with hands in a vain attempt to hide his tears from me. Surrounding him was a myriad of tiny glass shards, followed by a plethora of large ones. One of which, was embedded in his left foot causing blood to slowly ooze from his heel, leaving a crimson puddle on my floor.
"Oh, Loki," I moved toward him, glad that my feet were protected by my ever-present sandals, "My sweet Loki."
Once next to him, I made my way in between his thighs, weaseling my hands under his to cup his cheeks and force him to look at me, "What happened?"
"That did." He gestured over my shoulder at the counter, where an orange and white tabby cat named Pita sat, "All I wanted was a cup of water. He wanted me to die."
"Oh darling," I nuzzled his neck, "Please don't let that bring you to tears."
"That, my love, was just. . . what is that saying you have? The straw that broke the camel's back."
"What else is there?"
He shook his head, almost violently, "I don't want to worry you. I am being weak. A shard of glass has brought me to the ground. How humiliating."
He tried to move out from underneath me twisting his body to encourage his right foot to hold his weight first.
"Loki," I cried, "Stop, let me pull it out and clean it. I don't remember the last time this floor was mopped."
"Aspen. . ."
"No." I commanded, "You are going to let me take care of you. You don't have to be a god with me. Just a man. You are allowed to need me. I expect you to need me. I want you to need me, to feel that you can fall apart with me, that you can be weak with me. Loki," I sighed, "I love you, more than I can say. You are my world, my life, and I have never felt safer with anyone. With that being said, you don't have to be my protector all the time. Tell me, I'll pick that cross up and help you carry it."
He simply stared at me. The salt water beginning to appear around his eyes. His beautiful green orbs were then hidden from me as he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around my waist pulling me close. His sobs wracked my body, and I, in turn, wrapped my arms around him and buried my head in his hair.
"What's wrong my love?" I asked, more concerned for him than I had ever been.
"Everything has built up. . . Father sending me here on a permanent basis, disallowing me to return, joining your organization, trying to cover my mistakes up with successes. Failing more often than not. Stepping on a large shard of glass."
"Oh!" I exclaimed, standing and opening the cabinet over the sink, pulling out gauze, cotton pads, medical tape, antibiotic ointment, and hydrogen peroxide, "Let me take care of this."
He leaned his head back against the dish washer and sighed, "I don't deserve you."
"Stop it." I commanded, grabbing the tweezers just in case.
"I don't."
"Loki," I groaned, "Proceed with caution."
Kicking glass aside, I sat next to his foot and began to pull glass from his heel. He only winced a time or two, putting his knuckle in his mouth to bite down when needed.
After every piece was removed, I poured the peroxide on his foot directly, applied the antibiotic ointment to the cotton pad, and wrapped everything in gauze, then secured everything with the medical tape.
I looked up at him, and smiled softly, "All done."
He smiled back, "You know, those things are entirely unnecessary. I h-. . ."
"Heal very fast. Yes, I know. However, this makes me feel important."
"Aspen," He stretched his hand out to me and I took it, and he pulled me close, "you are very important to me."
"Well," I breathed, standing, pulling him with me, "that helps me feel that way without your words."
He smiled and kissed my head, "I would be lost without you."
"Oh," I leaned into him, "I know."