"Stubborn."

"I am not, Sif. I simply do not despise the cold as you do."

Sif allowed the corners of her mouth the turn up at Loki's bull-headedness. It was a rare weekend, being that the two had no pressing matters to attend, and thus took the opportunity to camp together at a beautiful lake far enough from the city as to truly be alone.

At the moment, the couple was lying by the fire they had set up. It was nighttime, the Asgardian stars shining brightly above them. The air was sharp with the scent of the pines that surrounded them, the rush of the lakes' waters providing a soothing backdrop.

"Just because you do not hate the cold does not mean it feels the same. The cold will make you sick as easily as anyone else."

Loki snorted, turning his face so he could view Sif. Both were settled under the same brightly woven quilt, bodies barely touching. The flamed reflected light off of Loki's pale face, making the angles of his face appear sharp enough to cut. As Sif was positioned with her back the fire, to Loki she seemed to be glowing with an orange radiance, her brawny and constantly sun-burnt skin softened.

Her brows furrowed together as she reached a hand forward to trace the outline of Loki's face, Sif drew in a sharp breath. "Your skin is like ice." Raising an eyebrow, the mischief god quipped, "That might be my heart, actually."

"Very funny."

As consolation, Loki took Sifs' hand in his, sliding long thin fingers in between Sifs. Silently the two looked into the others' eyes, the air between them heavy with unspoken vows of love. Sif allowed her thumb to softly rub back and forth on Loki's hand, his eyes closing with the comfort of her presence. Quickly he grew drowsy from the warmth of Sif's body and fell asleep, she not long after.

The lovers awoke in the same way, hands lazily attatched.