He heard the door close in the other room, and immediately, he was on his feet, heart racing. No, she couldn't have simply left; surely one small fight couldn't drive her away to work on that infernal cannon on a weekend. But, checking near the door, he noted the absence of her scarf and coat, as well as her boots.

No, he had so many things to say to her.

He loved her.

Breathing deeply, he tried to convince himself that she had left without a word for a different reason, tried to convince himself that she was coming back. Repeating this over and over again until it lost meaning, an attempt at calming the panic that was threatening to overtake him, he opened the door and raced outside, not thinking for a moment about what the cold meant for him.

He halted the moment he got out the door, glancing both ways down the street, not sure which way to go. He had to find her.
And that's when the snowball hit him.

Turning around to look for the source of the attack, he realized that for the first time that year, snowflakes were drifting down from the clouds above, and had accumulated overnight, several inches of snow lying where the grass normally stood. She was laughing at him, hiding behind a tree, another snowball in her hand. She threw it, and with a wave of his hand, it disintegrated in midair.

She came out from behind the tree, hands on her hips. "Hey, that's not fair. No magic allowed."
Relief was flooding through him, warming every inch of his body as a small smile crept onto his face. No matter what, she could make him happy. No matter that a mere minute ago he was terrified that she had left; she was here now and she wasn't mad. She wanted things to go back to normal—if one could say they had a normal. But before he could reply, his memory caught up with the rest of him, and he began backing away into the doorway once more, where the heat of the building was spilling out into the winter air.

"Loki…?"

He sighed, a period of silence stretching between them. Hesitating slightly, he didn't meet her eyes when he finally spoke, choosing his words carefully. "I have told you of the Aesir, as well as the Jotun, have I not?"
She frowned, dropping her snowball, a concerned look on her face. "Yeah, what about them?" A pause. "You okay?"
He gave an unsure nod before continuing. "I cannot stay out here long."

"Why not?" Only then did she seem to notice the fact that he wasn't wearing a coat. "Aren't you cold?"

He hesitated once more. "I am—" He cut himself off, unsure of how to say it, because she was sure to leave him if she knew; she wouldn't want to spend her days with a monster. But he didn't have to say anything, the cold finally affecting him, and the tingling in his fingertips, spreading up his arms and all over his body, ending with his face, told him that the cold had revealed what he couldn't.

She simply stared at him for a moment, before taking another step closer. "You're not from Asgard, are you? You're a…" She searched for the name for a moment, a name he had only spit out once before, when he hadn't been measuring the weight of every word, in a rare moment of vulnerability. "Frost giant?"
He gave a small nod, silent, simply staring at her boots in front of him. So it was a surprise when he felt her warm fingertips tracing the blue lines on his face, a touch somehow more intimate than any day she had curled up next to him on the couch or than anything he had ever imagined. He didn't understand how she was doing this, standing so close to this monster that his magic masked every day and not being afraid, not being repulsed. But he was grateful.

A few silent moments passed like this, before she slipped her glove back on, and, with a small smile, turned away from him to scoop up some more snow. Already he could feel the absence of her warmth, forcing his attention away from how much he craved her touch, because she was speaking to him. "You never told me what you did for fun on Asgard." And a grin. "Do Frost Giants have snowball fights?"
With that, she stood up, flinging another snowball at him, and any and all thoughts of this monstrous form slipped out of his consciousness as he smiled back. "I have not heard of them doing so, no. But there is always time for change."

She didn't see him move a single muscle as a snowball hit her side, almost knocking her to the ground, and she laughed, hurrying to retaliate.

Hours later, soaking wet, they went back inside, Rose going to get hot chocolate as he allowed his appearance to return to normal, the warmth helpful, if not a bit uncomfortable, after being himself for so long.
But he had never been happier.