Loki slumbers in his bed with his beloved, Belle. Though the trickster loves the beauty deeply, she has an unpleasant habit: tossing and turning as she sleeps, sometimes enough to awake him. Despite this, he'd rather sleep by her side than alone like he used to.
It's storming tonight. Rain pounds angrily. Thunder crashes loudly, and lightning illuminates their bedroom.
Belle, with a trail of dried drool from a corner of her mouth, shifts. Their bed squeaks. Then she suddenly tosses, turning toward her mischievous lover, unknowing that she whacks his face.
The hit pulls Loki from his peaceful slumber. At first, he's mad that he is yet again stolen from sleep; however, as the lightning irradiates, shedding light on the beauty's face, the anger softens slowly then all at once. A small smile tugs on Loki's mouth as Belle turns away, her back to him. He pulls his love carefully closer until he feels her warmth spread on his body. After placing a kiss on her shoulder, Loki closes his eyes, catching a faint scent of lavender from her hair, and tries to find his way back asleep.