Lilies Say Sorry

Boredom.

It was the plight of any great being, immortal or otherwise. The ghastly feeling of having absolutely nothing to do was maddening and left Loki in a sour mood; ordinarily he'd head down to the recreation room of the Avenger's Tower and pick a random book from the shelf to occupy his time - but he'd read all the books.

His brother had suggested he turn on the television and flick through the channels until he found something worth watching, but Loki had no interest in subjecting himself to the cringeworthy visual entertainment of mortals. Where was the fun in staring at a screen for hours on end?

It was nearing eleven o'clock at night. Usually Loki would wait at least another three hours before leaving the tower, but time was flowing like hardening cement, and patience was not in his nature.

On the way to the elevators, the God of Mischief caught brief sight of Tony Stark, who was fixing himself a coffee; it wasn't unusual to find the Stark Industries CEO up until the early hours of the morning, and Loki predicted the man would most likely still be awake by the time he returned from his nightly wander.

"Hey- Reindeer Games, where you off to?" Tony called down the hall, and Loki halted his stride, an exasperated sigh rushing past his lips.

"Must you insist on referring to me in such a way?" Loki sneered with a glance over his shoulder, "I'm not even wearing the horns."

Tony's head appeared from the doorway of the kitchen, steaming mug of coffee in hand, "Well, it's nearing Christmas, seems appropriate. You're avoiding my question."

Loki's mouth twitched with discontent; he knew very little about the human holiday of Christmas, and he knew not what it had to do with the infernal nickname Tony persistently used for him. "It is none of your concern", he answered through gritted teeth.

Tony eyed him for a moment before taking a sip of his coffee, and drew his gaze over Loki's jet-black suit, prompting the God of Mischief to glare at the man, "Alright, well, we're watching you."

Loki swallowed the growl of displeasure in the back of his throat and merely grumbled, "I know", in a none-too-happy tone.

Before the other man could delay him any further, Loki continued on his way, the loud clicks of his shoes supplementing each step so that Tony knew exactly how resentful he was.


Loki kept to the shadows as he walked. While there weren't crowds of people around on the streets, there were still enough, too many for his liking; unlike his previous walks, he didn't stray into more open areas, instead electing to slither through dark alleys and empty underpasses - the kinds of places mortals tended to elude.

He inhaled the cold winter air, disappointed by the lack of crisp freshness drawn into his lungs - he could taste the pollution of the city and it made him miss his home. Asgard was never so disgusting; Loki couldn't understand the knack humans had for destroying their own planet. If it wasn't for them, Midgard would be a place of beauty, perhaps a place where he'd be willing to stay.

Then again, Norway had been admittedly beautiful for the whole three minutes Loki had spent there shortly before the rude interruption from his so-called sister.

But no, he was confined to a contaminated city for the foreseeable future.

Loki rounded a corner, exiting an alley, out into a less populated avenue; he stayed close to the walls of the buildings, out of the glaring streetlights, and let his legs guide the way. He passed by the dim lights emanating from bar windows, his superior hearing picked up on the ambient noise of humans talking to one another in drunken stupors and the soft vibrations of loud music from nearby nightclubs.

The sounds were oddly soothing; with so many layers of noise, it was impossible to make sense of the precise conversations mortals were having or the actual lyrics of the songs playing, and there was something pacifying about the distant blare - it distracted him somewhat from his boredom and gave him something to focus on.

Until a rowdy human broke the pleasant atmosphere with a harsh shout across the street to an acquaintance. Loki gave an irritable exhale, increasing his speed minutely, wishing to escape the noise; the racket continued, growing louder still to the point it drove him to grind his teeth together.

The shrill snap of the human's voice was replaced by fast-paced footsteps, as though someone was running towards him, but it wasn't until Loki felt a hand seize his arm that he actually reacted, swinging around so suddenly, and wrenched his limb away from the human's clutches. Almost subconsciously, he fell into an imposing stance, primed to attack if need be, towering over the mortal with all the intimidation he could muster.

"James! What, are you suddenly deaf or something? I was calling you-" It was Amelia, the woman he had met three weeks prior; she recoiled slightly at his sudden defensive posture, giving him a wide-eyed and apologetic look. "-Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"You did not scare me." Loki retorted, aggravated at the way the woman's expression softened - as if a mortal could strike fear into his heart.

Amelia rose an eyebrow at his overreaction, the corner of her lip curling slightly upwards as she quirked her head at an angle, watching him with a careful eye; he scrutinised her in return, trying to interpret the meaning behind the gleam of her dark eyes.

"So how're you doing?" She suddenly inquired, a chipper tone to her voice that had not been present the first time they had met.

Loki noted that the woman was dressed warmly this time, wearing a puffy crimson coat and a ridiculous looking bobble hat to deter the piercing cold around them; there was a different air about her, something genuine in her smile that made him suspicious.

"I'm…" Loki promptly trailed off. Was he really going to subject himself to odd conversations with this human again or was it in his better interest to resume his aimless meandering in hopes of curing his boredom?

The apathy was eating away at him. He needed something to keep himself occupied before he was driven insane, and this mortal admittedly had been interesting enough the first time they met.

"I'm bored", he told her, plain-spoken and simple.

Her brow lifted in response to his answer and she giggled, "Oh, well that's no good. Are you off somewhere exciting, or…?" Her voice faded near the end of her sentence, but her eyes awaited a reply and Loki glanced briefly over his shoulder to make sure the area was still free of people.

"Not quite", he spoke, "I was hoping excitement might find me."

"I feel your pain, James", Amelia declared, "Being bored is the worst. I wouldn't wish it on my enemies." There was a jesting grin on her face which soon dissolved at Loki's unamused manner and her lips formed an awkward pucker as she shrugged her shoulders before pointing down the road with her thumb, "Wanna go get a drink?"

"What?" Loki blinked a few times, surprised by her offer; from what he understood, at least as a literary trope, a human asking another human if they wanted to grab a drink often lead to some interesting activities.

"Yeah, there's a pretty good bar down the street - nice atmosphere, good music. Unless you don't drink?" She quickly backtracked, looking up at him with wide, inquiring eyes.

"I drink", he affirmed, but the alcoholic content of mortal's drinks were far too weak in comparison to Asgardian beverages; there was no way in the Nine Realms that he could get drunk off of whatever drink a human presented him with. Then there was the solid fact that he just generally hated people, and the thought of being around drunken mortals who had the potential to recognise him was quite unappealing. "But I don't like… crowds", he settled with, hoping the woman wouldn't pry for an explanation.

"Ah", Amelia uttered, nodding her head in understanding, "That's fair."

An uncomfortable silence fell, and Amelia shifted in place, a fidgety air about her as she glanced up and down the street, tapping her teeth together with thoughtful look on her face, until she finally spoke up, "How about… well, you could… come back to mine? For a drink?"

Loki stared hard at the woman, struggling to pinpoint her intentions. Was she propositioning him? Hoping to lure him back to her home so she could attempt to seduce him to her bed?

His eyebrows furrowed as his gaze flickered down over her body; she wasn't exactly a model, not the kind of woman he typically went for. She was roughly five inches shorter than him, her brown hair was short and slightly askew, peeking out from below the bobble hat and falling just below her ears, curls flicking up in all directions. The glasses resting on her nose made her dark eyes look bigger than they actually were, to the point where it was almost comical, and her cheeks were rather chubby, harbouring a soft sprinkle of freckles across the middle of her face. Her lips weren't full or bright in colour, and they were slightly chapped from the cold weather; she wasn't conventionally attractive but he supposed she wasn't terribly ugly either.

Just plain… and human.

His drawn out inspection of her appearance triggered a reaction from her and her eyes grew wide, mouth falling open as her cheeks tinged red, "Hey, uh- I mean just a drink, you know! Nothing else!" She reiterated with a stammer, clearly embarrassed at how suggestive her words may have sounded.

Loki smirked, finding her flustered state quite hilarious, and inclined his head in a curt nod, "Alright. Why not?" Even if he couldn't get drunk from the alcohol she provided, it was something different to do and would keep him entertained.

In a flash, Amelia's bashfulness was forgotten, a pleasantly surprised, open-mouthed smile on her face as she blinked a few times quickly, "Really? You'll actually join me for a drink?" She sounded disbelieving, and Loki had the fleeting, cruel urge to tell her 'nope, just kidding' and laugh at her disappointment, but the impulse passed - he didn't want to renew the state of dull monotony that was his life at that moment.

"Did I stutter?" He quipped instead, his facetious tone drawing a pout to Amelia's face.

"Alright, alright, my apartment's this way, follow me", the woman exclaimed, taking a few steps towards the direction Loki had come from; her gaze lingered on him until he began to pursue after her, and her smile returned, happy he was following.


Amelia's home was nothing like what Loki had expected.

It was on the upper floors of a high-rise apartment building; they had to ride an elevator to reach it, and Loki could already tell by the exceptionally clean white walls and dustless carpet in the hallway that the block was wealthy and well-kept. It was nowhere near the level of expense that the Avengers Tower was, but it wasn't too much of a stretch to assume Amelia had to be quite affluent to own accommodation there.

Strange, she hadn't come across as though she was in possession of a lot of money.

Amelia shifted her weight back and forth on her feet while she remained completely silent as the elevator rose, until the little light dinged as they reached the eleventh floor; the woman motioned left out of the lift and Loki stepped out into the flawless corridor.

"Just down here, number forty-two", she informed him, reaching into her bag to fish out her keys; she fumbled for a moment and Loki looked down his nose at her, crossing his arms impatiently.

"...sorry, ah- there we go", she pulled the keys out and quickly hurried to unlock the front door to her apartment.

Loki was right, it was a grand apartment. The decor was simple and elegant, there wasn't a hint of dirt or grime anywhere; he scanned the room, admiring the furnishings - polished pine wood flooring paved the living room, a fuzzy brown rug placed before the black leather couch, a clear-glass dining table with two brown felt chairs tucked under it, and a modestly sized flat screen television affixed to the wall - before his eyes fell to the glorious view beyond the ceiling-to-floor windows.

Manhattan looked better from this angle, as opposed to skulking around at ground level; the lights were colourful and even at midnight, the city was full of life. Loki had to begrudgingly admit, it was beautiful.

"Enjoying the view?" Amelia spoke from behind him. Loki gave a succinct hum of agreement with a small nod of his head, glancing back over his shoulder to find the woman had stripped her coat and bobble hat, revealing a garish, multicoloured sweater that looked a little too big for her.

She crossed the room to the attached bar which concealed a drinks cabinet and mini-fridge; Loki quirked an eyebrow, giving the room another once over before approaching.

"Your home is…"

"Stylish?" Amelia offered with a knowing look on her face as she procured two glasses from the cupboard, "How does a whiskey sound?"

"Unexpectedly sophisticated", Loki corrected, "Whiskey is fine."

Amelia's face scrunched into a playful pout at his words; she pulled out a bottle of scotch and poured them both a glass, "Unexpectedly, huh? What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

Loki swiped up a glass, taking a small swig of the golden yellow liquid; it was warm in his throat and tasted pleasant enough, but while it was a strong drink for a mortal, he knew he wasn't going to get anything out of.

"It means when we first met three weeks ago, you looked like a vagrant, so this...", he motioned the room with a wave of his hand, "...was unanticipated."

Amelia had been halfway through a sip of her own beverage when the words left Loki's mouth, and she sputtered slightly, swallowing the alcohol so as not to choke on it, a vaguely disgruntled look on her face. She grumbled incoherently under her voice for a few seconds before her expression changed, becoming lighter, and she shrugged, "Well I wasn't at my best three weeks ago. You shouldn't judge a book by its cover."

Loki rolled his eyes at the idiom.

"Besides, if we're going on appearances alone, you look like a goddamn vampire, so there", Amelia continued slyly, pressing her lips to the rim of her glass to hide a smirk.

She found Loki's resulting glare rather amusing, snorting as he eyed her as though she were nothing more than a pest. It was quite irritating that his intimidating stares didn't have the desired effect - if anything, she seemed to be made more giggly despite his efforts to ruffle her.

It was different. Never before had a mortal snickered in response to his chilling demeanour.

Amelia took a seat on the couch, bringing the bottle of whiskey along with her in case of the need for refills, and her eyes flicked down to the space beside her, "Take a seat."

Loki sighed inaudibly; he had no inclination to get comfortable and he didn't like the way she made the offer to sit sound like more of a demand, but she looked pointedly at him, confusion swirling in her brown eyes when he didn't move from his standing position partway between the bar and the couch.

"What's wrong? You seem… tense…" Amelia spoke carefully, a concerned quality to her voice, "I haven't made you uncomfortable, have I?"

"No", Loki answered, before taking another sip of the whiskey. The liquid was warm in this throat and he darted his tongue out to lick his lips, "It's just how I am." He'd been staying at the Avengers Tower for months now, and over the duration of his stay, he'd grown more and more restless in his boredom, high-strung and unrelaxed - but there was no easy way to explain that to the woman.

"Well then", she spoke, patting the seat with her palm, "Maybe it'd be good for you to sit down and relax? The alcohol will probably help anyway."

Loki regarded her with a suspicious stare for a few moments, trying again to piece together her intentions. She had assured him the invite was for nothing more than a drink, but her words sounded unnatural, unlike what he'd expect from a mortal simply looking for innocent company.

If she was trying to get him drunk… "I'm not a lightweight", he warned her with a crooked smirk and Amelia let out a laugh.

"Neither am I, buddy", she stated, raising her glass, "But I have a lot of alcohol to fix that with."

Loki's brow furrowed; Amelia was direct and outspoken, she didn't hold the tone of a person who had something to hide… maybe it was just because his life was a cluster of distrust and caution, perhaps he was reading too much into the situation.

He sat on the couch beside her, unbuttoning his suit jacket so that the material didn't stretch as he bent down; he didn't sink back into the leather of the sofa like Amelia had, instead his back was straight and he held the glass of scotch at his knee, swishing the liquid around in circles.

A glint caught his eye as Amelia moved to pour a little more whiskey into her glass, and his eyes fell on the gold watch around her wrist that he hadn't noticed before then - it was only slightly visible underneath the bright sleeve of her sweater. It looked like an expensive piece of jewellery and it shined beneath the artificial light in the room, seemingly well looked-after. Except for one thing. The watch face was broken, a very clear crack in the delicate glass, the hands of the clock unmoving. Strange, if she had the money to afford her current living arrangements, then surely she had the money to replace a fancy watch?

"Please, help yourself if you want more, James", Amelia declared, sitting back on her crossed legs. Again, Loki was reminded bitterly that he was living under a masquerade in this woman's presence; he damned his temporary inability to come up with a better pseudonym other than James - usually he was brilliant and quick-witted when it came to playing someone he wasn't, but he had never planned to acquaint himself with a human.

Loki looked up from his glass when he felt the woman's eyes on him, she was regarding him with a pensive look, to which he frowned, "What?"

Amelia shook her head, smiling dismissively, "How old are you?"

The question came from out of nowhere, and Loki blinked once, his eyes flicking away as he wondered how old he looked as far as humans were concerned.

"How old are you?" he countered, and Amelia arched an eyebrow.

"I asked you first."

"And I asked you second, what's your point?"

Loki was aware how juvenile the exchange had become, but he retained a pursed-lipped expression as he stared her down, even as the woman began to chuckle.

"Wow, okay. I'm twenty-eight years old." Amelia answered, "And you?"

He was thousands of years old by the mortal calendar; Asgardians aged differently than Midgardians and Loki wasn't quite sure how his age translated in comparison, but he supposed he looked younger than Tony Stark, who was in his mid forties if Loki remembered correctly.

"I'm thirty five", Loki replied in a convincing tone, "are you satisfied?"

"Yep!" Amelia gave him a bubbly smile, drawing a sigh from his lips; Loki was beginning to wonder if he truly preferred the company of the woman's increasingly zealous disposition to his abject boredom. He could tolerate it, sure, but Amelia had gone quiet now, and their dialogue had reached a dead end.

It appeared it was up to Loki to steer their talk back into valuable territory, so he enquired over something that had been a little perplexing in his mind, "You must have a high-end occupation to be able to afford this living standard", it was just an observation, though phrased inquisitively.

A bitter smile reached her face, similar to the one she had worn three weeks ago - Loki couldn't remember exactly what had triggered it last time - but he rose a curious eyebrow at her downcast eyes; she stared heavily into her drink, tapping her fingers against the glass in a fidgety manner.

"You'd think so… but no, I work in a florist down the road."

Loki waited for an explanation to his very obvious unasked question, but it never came, so instead he prompted her, "Then… how?" he motioned the costly decor of her exorbitant apartment and a knit became visibly in her eyebrows.

She curled slightly in on herself, the atmosphere between them changing drastically at his simple enquiry.

"It was my brother's apartment."

That explained her sudden subdued attitude.

"He was an orthopedic surgeon, made a ludicrous amount of money. We lived here together for five years and then he… passed away. I inherited his earnings, and that's that." Her voice caught briefly in her throat and Loki felt his teeth grind together at the potential Amelia had to break down in tears - he could not comfort a human. It was awkward enough in the cemetery last time when she became emotional.

"I see", Loki hoped to conclude that line of conversation; at least his curiosity had been satisfied over how a woman like her owned such a lavished apartment.

"What about you? You have a nice home?" she sounded almost matter-of-factly, as though she assumed he had a similar housing arrangement.

"What?" Loki murmured.

"Well, you seemed surprised by my home, but not unfamiliar with the luxury", she explained, "People who have average homes would be more awed by a place like this, but you got over it pretty quick."

Loki's expression straightened out; the woman was clearly more observant than she let on. She wasn't simple-minded like her conduct had suggested, well, not entirely; the corner of Loki's mouth twisted slightly upwards.

"You are right. I am used to grandeur, and my current… home", he uttered the word with reluctance, "is opulent." There was no denying the Avengers Tower was a wealthy place to live - it was no Asgardian palace, but it was better than he could have asked for in his situation, even if it sort of, kind of felt like a prison.

"But it is temporary", he continued, at least he hoped it was temporary. He really didn't want to live with the Avengers for the rest of his long life, "My original home was destroyed." The words left his mouth before he could revise his wording.

"Destroyed!?" Amelia squeaked, eyes wide, "What, like, there was a fire?"

Loki pursed his lips, thinking about the way he had watched Asgard perish in the flames of Surtur, "...something like that."

"Holy shit, I'm… I'm sorry", Amelia stammered, and Loki shook his head, brushing away her pointless words of comfort. Humans were ridiculously empathetic.

"It doesn't matter", he stated simply.

Amelia's mouth snapped shut at his terse tone, knowing better than to offer any solace or push the subject at all; she fell silent, finding interest in her drink once more as she slightly swirled her glass, watching the scotch splash and displace.

The atmosphere had grown too awkward.

"I should go." Loki spoke suddenly, rising from the couch, and Amelia looked up in surprise, disappointment visible in the creases of her forehead.

"What? But- we haven't even finished the whiskey!" She said it with an edge of humour and an underlying hope that it would somehow convince him to stay.

Instead, Loki reached wordlessly for the bottle and poured what was left of the golden liquid into his glass, before gracefully downing it all in just a few seconds. Amelia's mouth fell open in shock; it was clear from the tilt of her head and the way she blinked several times that she was, without a doubt, impressed.

"What was that, a power play?" Amelia spoke incredulously.

"A solution. I'm leaving." Loki placed his empty glass on the coffee table and straightened out his suit jacket, buttoning it up.

"Wait!" Amelia blurted out, quickly jumping to her feet, glass forgotten on the table, "Can I at least get your number or something?"

What interest could the woman possibly have in keeping contact with him?

"I have no phone", he told her honestly.

Amelia blinked at him, "You're kidding, right?"

Instead of responding, Loki began to stalk towards the front door, followed quickly by the scampering woman, "Wait, wait, wait!" she cried again. Her hand curled around his arm just as he reached the exit and Loki turned to her exasperatedly, his mouth drawn into a deep frown.

"What?"

"Will you come back again? Same time next week?" her voice was overtly hopeful, her grip on his arm was gentle but firm, willing him to not to walk out the door and never come back.

Amelia had only known Loki - no, James - for a total of about two hours altogether, and yet there was something in her eyes begging him to return. He looked down at her desperate hold on his arm, and his eyes trailed to the broken watch secured at her wrist; he couldn't deny that something about her intrigued him. Something unseen, something hidden deep.

Loki didn't have anything better to do.

"Alright."

The woman spent a few seconds processing his one word response before she positively beamed and a wide, open-mouthed smile graced her features. Loki rolled his eyes at her delighted reaction.

Amelia nodded animatedly, "We can have another drink, or- or we could have dinner, maybe watch a movie and listen to music, or-"

Loki stopped her, "Just a drink." His words left no room for argument, and the woman deflated ever so slightly.

"A drink… and pizza?" She tried again carefully and Loki sighed; if it would shut her up.

"Fine."

"Also, wear something more casual."

"Don't push it."

Amelia licked her lips, biting back a smile, "Remember, I'm room forty-two on the eleventh floor. Do you need me to walk you down, or-"

"No." Loki left the apartment room, eyes ahead as he made his way to the elevator, purposefully not looking back.

He felt her gaze on the back of his head up until he rounded the corner.


Notes: I got some wonderful reviews on the first chapter and they made me very happy! If you enjoyed this chapter then be sure to review - it helps inspire me to write the next chapter quickly! ;)