I push ahead at you, pretending security, when in truth I feel uncomfortable right from the entrance to this small room.
The light is weak company of our meeting and I rejoice in secret.
No. It's not easy to hold your one's dark gaze, without feeling on my part to poison from the darkness that there encloses. I fear you, brother.
You're the prisoner between us, yet it is the deep-greenin your eyes to catch my reflection and make your humble slave.
At each new step, they absorb my safety, fall asleep my rationality, feast on with my pain.
That's right. I'm going suffering, and you, Loki, you take pleasure.
You, my brother, wounded beast but still dangerous, you feed my unconditional love with greed, in the silence of your lies.
You despise me, stab my heart with the sharp blade of your hatred declared, then resume to demand me as soon as you feel hungry.
Always and forever, you need of my affection, well you know, I never would deny you.
Always and forever, my beloved.
A few hours have passed since our return to Asgard, together, once again divided by the resentment felt towards each other.
I can still hear our people acclaim my name: Thor, son of Odin, one and only, now that the father of the gods has disowned you.
Thor, the victorious.
But how can a victorious feel so miserable, as I am right now?
What eludes everyone, is how your defeat be an unbearable burden on my conscience. Your fall not satisfies me and I certainly do not consider it a trophy.
Your downfall is mine too.
Unable to punish you as you deserve, I'm going underground in your prison, driven by guilt for what our ancient disagreements have made you.
I'm here to reveal as the real loser before your very eyes.
You demonstrates some amazement as I approach you staggering and confused, with the air of one who has lost all meaning. You tilt the head, bending your thin lips into a small sneer; you tilt the head, bending your thin lips into a small sneer, a few strands brunette you fall on your face diaphanous, dug by anger and envy.
Are you good at pretending, you have always been. You hide behind a mocking expression, armed with your contemptuous smile, but this time you are not enough.
No, brother, you can not fool me at all.
I see beyond your perfect mask, I can read your true feelings through small-signal communicated from your slender body. Your long fingers glide trembling through your messy hair, staring back my angry look pretending by indifference, when in fact prove the opposite.
Attraction, unhealthy and twisted attraction. You want me, you're so hungry for affection to moan softly, in seeing my robe fall to the ground.
Here I am, my brother.
You take me a careful look walk solemnly that chair oxidized by time, majestic and graceful as if you were sitting on Hliðskjálf *, despite the clothes worn for battle just consumed.
Your grin widens when finally I come near you, as you expand your slender legs, excited like a child to whom you give your favorite toy.
Your eyes pierce me heartless, but I don't care, you demand me in your silence deafening and this is enough for me.
Keep on look at me, Loki. I need you, your gaze on him.
My Black Star, turn your dark light on me, feared and desired by my soul slaved to yours, for eternity.
You don't miss a word, remain to gaze at me hungrily, while I get undressed of my clothes, my anger, my pride.
I'm here, my beloved. Take my bleeding heart and eat it up.