Next chapter is finally ready! I had some fun with this one, but kept changing it around. I hope you like the outcome.
I own nothing but my OC and my own ideas
Moving on…
When Morgan woke up, it took her exactly 6.8 seconds to remember what had happened the night before. I have a Norse god with emotional issues sitting in my living room. Right. Simple. Well, at least he knew of her powers now. That's one less awkward conversation.
She walked into the room, finding him sitting exactly where he had been before. He was awake and obviously watching her every move. She decided to play it cool, walking over to make some coffee. And, of course, he kept staring after her.
"So, you sat there all night?"
"Yes."
"Intend on moving? I have some coffee going if you'd like some."
"I'm fine."
Oh, so he was intent on playing nonchalant and distanced? Well too bad, she was already intent on doing that. Two really can play at that game.
"Fine?" she questioned, sounding innocent.
"I do believe that is what I said." It was obvious he did not enjoy her games.
She circled back around until she was standing in front of his chair, and cocked her head to the side. "I am aware that's what you said, but is it what you meant?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Why do you care?"
She sighed softly, looking back through memories. "Because I know what it's like to be rejected and abandoned." Wait, where was the cool attitude she was going to project? Ugh, what she had seen had gotten to her after all.
"Would you like me to list them for you? You aren't the only one who gained memory access to the other." That caught her slightly by surprise. Just how much had he seen?
Well, one thing was obvious. They both like toying with emotions and mental structures, manipulating, and playing mind games. This just might be fun.
She smiled coyly and began walking back to her room. "Coffee's in the kitchen," she tossed back over her shoulder.
"Morgan." She froze. "Thank you for letting me stay here."
Fun, that is, until we start being honest with each other.
They didn't speak for a long time, once she came back into the room with her computer. Morgan was writing; Loki was thinking. No one really wanted to break the silence. It was strangely peaceful. Peace was something they were both pretty foreign too, so it was preserved as long as possible.
Finally Loki asked her a question. "What exactly are you doing?"
"Writing."
He furrowed his brow. "Writing what?"
"My book." Her answers were curt, but not too sharp.
"What kind of book?"
She couldn't tell if he was trying to make conversation or genuinely curious. She turned to face him, expression slightly snappish. "I'm a writer, it's what I do. I write. I sell them to publishing companies, who give me money and royalties in return. It's not much, not with the popularity of my work. But I make enough to get by. That's all that matters."
Loki was curious. " 'Get by?' I'm not familiar with this term."
Morgan's response was bitter and harsh. "No, I wouldn't think so. It's hard being a prince, isn't it? To never have to worry about paying bills or buying food or where your money comes from. To never have to earn a living."
"Don't judge me, Morgan. Just because I am from a different world and social status does not mean you understand where I come from."
She made no response, only resumed typing.
Morgan tried to think while she was writing. She had no idea what she was doing anymore. What was she supposed to do with Loki? Kick him out? Get to know him? Be nice? Beat him at chess? For that's what their relationship (if she could even call it that) felt like at times: a massive game of chess. Each look, gesture, and sentence was a move. A play for the upper hand. A vie for power. And yet, they were almost always equal.
The only thing she knew was that it was never boring. They were learning boundaries and personalities, dislikes and interests. It was a beautiful mess. A chess game.
Loki took a moment to ponder what had occurred since he had met Morgan O'Connor.
The few days after he had fallen from the Bifrost were still hazy in his mind. He remembered a significant sensation of falling, and thinking that it would never end. The next thing he remembered was waking up on the street, obviously very early in the morning when most people were still in their homes. He stumbled for a few –what was it, days?- being guided by nothing whatsoever.
Then, almost out of nowhere, he felt an overwhelming force drawing him. He now knew it to be Morgan, but then all his crazed and exhausted mind could register it as was unrestrained power being let out, drawing him in.
The first time he saw Morgan, he was tied to a chair with her facing him, interrogation-style. She manipulated him into being aggressive, and then slipped her way into his mind, seeing memories and more. Her intrusion had shocked him, but he was almost surprised she did not attempt to force her way into his mind.
She was tricky, sneaky. She was also mentally unstable (as were most, even gods, with the level of her power) and scheming, with that extra-dangerous dose of calculating.
And he was the god of Mischief. Loki figured that they would either get along, or kill each other.
His staring was starting to wear on her nerves. "You know, If you have questions, you can ask me. You don't have to stare or keep poking at my mind," Morgan quipped. "It's quite rude."
Loki gave a half-hearted grin. "I don't mean to pry."
"Well, considering I have no idea how long you will be staying and barely know anything about you, I think it's time we got to know each other." Her voice was edged, yet… tentative. She shut her computer with a defined snap and leaned forward to rest her forearms on her thighs, fingers laced together. "So, tell me 'bout yourself," she drawled, "Loki."
"That depends on what you don't already know."
She smiled, slowly and almost predatorily. "Guess."
"I never guess."
"Fine then. Tell me about your family."
He tensed visibly. She had hit a nerve, as expected. He glared at her, knowing she had purposefully thrown a hypothetical knife at him. "No," he said sharply.
"Really?" she said, trying to sound innocent. "Not even Thor?" She twisted the knife, burying it further.
Loki had had quite enough. He leaped across the table separating them, startling Morgan and kicking in her reflexes. She was around the couch and edging towards the door when he caught her. She was fast, but Loki was faster.
She blinked and he had her flipped around, then backed her up against the wall. She gasped, panicking but unable to move. He pinned her wrists to the wall above her head and leaned in towards her face, expression razor sharp.
"Don't."
Her eyes widened in surprise. His voice had not come from where she expected, the body currently pinning her to the wall. It had come from the middle of the room.
The shade in front of her disappeared and she could see where Loki was truly standing, where his voice had actually come from. A word crossed her mind. Magic. She could only stare in shock.
"Don't toy with me, Morgan O'Connor. You may not like the outcome."
Fun, fun, fun, right? Don't worry, they will figure all this out soon
It will be longer this time before I have another chapter up, this one I have planned but not written. After that updates will come quite quickly.
Leave some love!
