He sat up in his bunk suddenly, awoken by light footfalls in the hallway. He dearly wished to slip back into slumber, but he had carelessly left a reading light on. As soon as it hit his vision, he was completely awake. He looked at the clock and then pulled on some pants and a tshirt with a sigh. 4:12 am...he would never be able to fall back to sleep now, he might as well investigate. The Shield facility was spare, and without decoration, the very definition of "institutional". It could be a hospital, a military barracks, or a prison. He supposed it was a bit of all those things. His own room was practically empty except for some clothes and some books.
The woman was standing at the stove, her back to him when he slid into the kitchen quietly. Her dark hair reached down to her waist in waves, contrasting sharply with the simple white tank top she wore, paired with black yoga pants. He saw no evidence of an undergarment and his face formed into a slight leer. He had never seen her hair down before. She always had it pulled back into intricate braids and ponytails. He moved further into the room without announcing his presence, his annoyance at being woken up fading quickly.
She seemed to be stirring a dark liquid in a small pot, while humming bits and pieces of a tune lazily, as low as a whisper. A small amount of light coming from the overhead of the stove lit up that area of the room, giving it a surreal glow.
"It's rude to sneak up on people, my prince...especially at 4am", she said quietly, without turning around. Her attention on her task.
He winced slightly at her sardonic use of his title, but he didn't bother to comment on it. "Its rude to wake people up at 4am too. In any case, I wasn't entirely sure that you weren't an intruder...and I don't sneak." He said in a false tone of boredom.
She turned around then, giving him the full measure of her smile and crossing her arms in front of her, her thick hair settling around her shoulders. This action only served to accentuate the swell of her breasts beneath the tank top that she wore. He pretended not to notice, keeping his eyes on her face. Her green eyes dared him to come closer, suddenly alight with her laughter.
"Liar, liar, pants on fire...all you do is sneak around this place. Sorry for the early start...I couldn't sleep." "Nightmares?" He asked with heightened interest, his thoughts on his own recent dreams...violent and draining. He had awoken the last several days feeling like he had run a marathon in his sleep.
"That too...but I am a lifelong insomniac. I only need about 5 hours of sleep to function and I went to bed too early last night...I must look a mess..."
He didn't bother to contradict her. To do so would reveal too much of his real regard for her and his growing attraction. Her dark hair, and her green eyes, her unconventional beauty. She could pass for almost any earth ethnicity, with a pleasing mix of round and sharp angles in her heart shaped face. Her full lips when closed, formed a perfect bow. She was strong and lean, if not a bit short for his taste, but somehow she managed to maintain curves on top of all that muscle. She had several tattoos, only a few of which were visible normally. He had just spotted the top of what looked like a large one on her back that he had never seen before. It was entirely unfair that she was also one of the most intelligent midgardians he had met in his most recent stay on earth. He had learned through hard experience not to underestimate her brain nor her brawn.
He realized he had been quiet for too long when she looked at him quizzically. He made a show of inhaling the sweet smell wafting from the stove. She seemed to remember that she was cooking something and turned around abruptly to continue stirring.
"What are you making?", he asked, edging closer to her.
"Spiked Hot chocolate...want to try?"
"Spiked?"
"With booze..."
"Ah...yes, I would like...a taste", he said silkily, and he was suddenly at her right side. She tilted her head and eyed him with some suspicion, recognizing what she liked to call his "mischief-mode" and dipped her spoon into the mixture. Cupping her free hand underneath the spoon to catch potential spills she turned in one fluid motion and brought the spoon close to his mouth while blowing on the top of the spoon slowly and gently, much to his surprise. He sucked in a breath and held it unconsciously.
"I wouldn't want to burn that "silver tongue" of yours..." She said simply, when she saw his expression, her own face a mask of innocence, but her eyes were a bit too wide.
He recovered quickly, leaning in and opening his mouth with a smirk, leading with his tongue as he closed his mouth on the spoon. He tugged at it to take the sip. He hummed happily at the sensation of warmth and sweetness, then licked his lips as his eyes flicked down toward her mouth."Delicious."
Oh yeah, she thought...full-on mischief mode. "I think I have enough to share...we can just add more rum!" She said brightly, ignoring his heated gaze and turned away from him to pour half of the mixture into a waiting cup, leaving room at the top. She then added some rum to the cup, finishing with a dollop of cream. She handed it to him with some flourish and a stilted curtsy, and he accepted the cup with a sneer that didn't hold much heat. "Thank you, my lady..." He said, his tone mirroring hers from earlier. She chuckled as she moved to the cabinet to grab herself a mug, and repeated her steps. Her throat made a happy, low sound as her first sip of boozy hot chocolate slid down.
"Oh yum, that is the business..."
"Yes, quite..."
They both leaned back, bracing themselves against the kitchen island, sipping their drinks in companionable silence. The domestic scene of easy friendship a far cry from their rocky beginning. She let her mind wander to that memory.