Opposite elements.
That's what they are and Loki hates him for it.
Everything was supposed to end with Ragnarök.
Loki had planned it that way, for everything to just be over, for the pain to end, but they were both still alive.
This was supposed to be nothing, yet he ended up being everything.
And now Loki couldn't look away. It hurt to keep his red eyes on the mortal though.
Former mortal.
There was nothing finite about him anymore, and Loki hates him for that.
Ragnarök was supposed to engulf all the realms in fire, but he ate flames and breathed out laughter.
Loki hates him, but he can't turn away, because if he does all that's left to see is his own blue hands and the Void, both of which he hates just a bit more than he hates him.
He's condensing again.
The mesmerizing flames that were spread out so far and wide they created a false horizon.
A horizon where nothing existed but them.
It vaguely reminds Loki of sunsets and sunrises that slipped into one another seamlessly.
Loki tries to turn away.
He can handle the infernal heat, but not what comes after.
Yet he still watches.
The smaller the inferno became the louder is seems to roar.
From the corner of his eye Loki saw the red, orange, and white heat form around a single blue flame.
Human shape, his shape.
Never solid, always moving, just like his mind.
So unlike Loki, frozen, the same three thoughts rotating in his head.
And it hurt so much because he could feel his smile. Loki could see it. Golden, like a city long lost.
Plasma lips part and another wave of heat hits Loki.
"Hell of a honeymoon." The words are so simple yet makes Loki cringe. He moves closer and Loki tries to move back. His feet are frozen, latched onto nothing, and keeping him from trying to escape something that he never could.
He didn't move closer though. They both know what would happen if he does.
"I wonder if you'll talk to me this time." The heat laps over him and Loki both loves and hates it.
Loki could see how much he is struggling to maintain such a small form. It isn't natural. Nothing about this is natural. Nothing was supposed to live past Ragnarök…
And there's so much regret.
But no words form on his icy lips.
From the corner of his eye he sees his whole image flicker. Why he flickers Loki can only guess. Was it anger? Disappointment? Hatred?
Loki finally squeezes his eyes shut, not able to handle seeing his blank features.
He senses rather than hears him take a step closer. Loki feels his blue form start to melt and he welcomes the sensation.
It was the faintest of noises, nearly indistinguishable from the crackling of eternal flames.
A quiet sigh.
And it hurt more than anything else Loki had ever experienced before. More than Odin's refusal to acknowledge him. More than Frigga's death. More than the goodbye that was supposed to be their last.
Loki felt the blaze explode, but never touch him as he lost his form the thousandth time over.
He forms the horizon again, or perhaps a sea of magma, flames coming up in waves and crashing against nothing.
Yet the words were still on the tip of Loki's tongue, never to pass his lips.
The simple I'm sorry that could change everything yet nothing.
They are opposite elements.
And Loki both hates and loves him because of that.