A/N: Finally some Loki! This chapter was pretty fun to write. I'm still not quite sure where I plan on taking this, but I have some ideas forming the more I write. Thank you for taking the time to read/follow/favorite/review!
Chapter 4: Unnerving Conversations
Recap: Craning my neck around Thor's big bicep I saw him, and my breath caught. Loki. His pale skin paler and washed out beneath the fluorescent lights, raven black hair longer than the last time I'd seen him-just past his shoulders. His face was arranged into a severe sneer as he leered down at me, his green eyes piercing my hazel ones. The intensity of his gaze made it feel as if we were the only two in the entire nine realms, and my heart drummed in my chest so loudly I hoped he couldn't hear.
Despite my body's response, I kept my face sarcastic, raising a questioning eyebrow at him.
His face broke into a smile that was far from friendly. "And here she stands."
I laughed sardonically. "'Half-bred.' That's so clever, because I haven't heard that one before," I said rolling my eyes, and he regarded me with a raised eyebrow.
"It seems I may have met my match," he commented with a chuckle.
My eyes narrowed. "No you haven't, believe me, you're not on my level. Not even close," My gaze tore from his and I looked at Thor who watched the exchange warily. "Seriously? This is what I have to deal with? He's a child."
Nick Fury spoke up from behind me. "Hopefully he won't be for long if you do your job right," he said. He almost sounded humored, as if laughing at my struggle. I spun around to look at him, but he was already halfway down the hallway.
It was just a big joke to everyone. I began to think this was my punishment. For what, though? Why was I being punished? What had I done so wrong? Was it for using my mother to get out of doing this assignment in the first place? And now fate had twisted around to bite me in the ass? Audibly, I sighed, and Thor turned to look at me, seeing my resignation.
His voice was full of comfort when he spoke, "Thank you so much for your help, Elise," he said, his eyes kind, tossing a heavy arm over my shoulders and side-hugging me. "but I am afraid must take my leave."
My mouth opened to protest, but he was already walking away. Longing for him to stay, I watched him saunter down the hallway, always looking as if he were going off to fight a war he'd undoubtedly win. Today he was wearing his armour, probably from going to Asgard to retrieve Loki, and it clinked noisily with his every step. He exited the hallway after struggling with the key card technology, then I was officially alone with the fallen prince with a major attitude. Slowly, painfully, I turned back to look at him. He stood there, watching me with a smile playing at his lips.
Loki waited for him to leave before regarding me. "So you, tiny half-breed, are meant to oversee me, and ensure I do no harm as I reside upon this useless planet?" He asked disbelievingly, taking in my small stature with a raised brow.
I sighed. "Can you not call me half-breed?" I asked, almost sincerely. The term falling from his lips sounded so harsh, so condescending, almost hurtful. "I may be small, but I'll kick your ass."
He canted his head thoughtfully, fully smiling now. "I truly would like to see you try."
"Give me a reason to, and I will without hesitation," I said, crossing my arms. He didn't respond. He just looked me up and down, his expression one normally reserved for smelling something slightly unpleasant.
"I could give you the same look," I reminded him. "You've done a lot of bad bad things. Things much worse than me just so happening to be half-mortal. That's something I didn't choose. You, however, consciously decided to hurt innocent people. And people are still hurting from what you did. In fact, half of this city is still fucked up from the hell you brought here."
He scoffed as I spoke, but waited for me to finish before speaking. "Save your mortal sentiments for Thor, for they have no effect on me."
"A lot of people died-"
"And how, pray tell, was their death any different from the fate that would have befallen them? Mortal lives are menial and fleeting-they expire faster than you and I can blink," he said matter-of-factly. "Perhaps, I did them a favor, they died honorably at the hands of a god."
Involuntarily, I inhaled sharply, and leaned against the wall, almost physically exhausted by his shockingly faulty logic. "Loki, to you and I, yes, their lives are short, but from their perspectives it's different. They cherish their time, they try to make the most of it, and-"
"Enough!" He said so suddenly and loudly that I actually jumped, then cursed myself for allowing him to see me caught off guard. "I no longer wish to hear your saccharine ramblings, leave me."
"Seriously?" I asked, my eyebrows raising incredulously at his childishness. "How old are you where you can't see how wrong you are?"
He didn't seem to see that it was a rhetorical question, or chose to disregard the fact. He stepped closer to the glass, "I am beyond both your years and wisdom. I can plainly see living amongst these fools has turned you into one of them. You have inherited none of the grace, poise, and power of an Asgardian woman. You wear the Midgardian's impractical, whorish, clothing, you speak their unintelligent vernacular, you live their pitiful lifestyle. It is pathetic, almost sickening." His face was practically pressed against the glass by the time he was finished. "Yet you dare to patronize my actions, you insufferable wench?"
My heart beat rapidly at his words. I wanted to engulf my fist in flames then punch him. I wanted to shoot fire from my face. Instead, I took a calmer route. He'd just arrived, I reasoned, clearly he was still miffed about his situation and needed time to accept, and get over it.
"I'd rather be a sympathetic 'half-breed' than a cold, heartless Asgardian," I said, and his eyes narrowed. He looked as if he were holding back a violent reaction. His jaw clenched and unclenched, and his hands balled into fists. My face remained blank and our eyes locked. His green gaze was so intense, so full of pure disdain for my very existence, it almost felt as if he was physically tearing me down. Chipping away at me. Eating my soul and spitting it out. Having already had enough of him, I turned on my heel and walked away.
"He's so rude, vitriolic, disrespectful...just everything negative wrapped into one pale, lanky, package," I ranted later that night, although Loki was, by no means, lanky. Through his leather clothes I could tell he was quite built, actually. Next to Thor, however, he may as well have been a flimsy piece of paper. The latter image is the one I held on to, to remind me to hate him.
I dropped the dish I had finished washing into the sink with more force than intended.
Evander laughed from beside me as he dried it with a towel and put it in the cabinet where it belonged. "I mean, he's Loki. I doubt he'd be nice and cuddly and tell you how beautiful you are. He's the dude who tried to enslave the world," he said, goodnaturedly. "I don't know how he planned on controlling 7 billion people, but I commend him for thinking big."
My jaw dropped and I smacked his arm with my wet, soap covered hand, producing a few bubbles that floated between us. "Evander, don't commend that asshole," I said, looking at the sink of dishwater. "He said some really rude things to me today."
Evander went quiet, and I could feel his playfulness slip away. "Elise," he said, "You can't take anything he says to heart. Think of it this way," he said, as he tossed the drying towel aside and hopped to sit on the counter. "He's bitter and embarrassed. He's like...you know those puppies who are scared and sad and confused? They're backed into a corner, with nowhere else to go, hating the world. So, anyone who gets close, they snap at them. No matter how kind the person's intentions, that'll be the animal's reaction. So what do you do?"
I dried my hands and moved to stand in between his knees, resting my elbows on his thighs. "I walk away and leave it the fuck alone," I replied, referring more to Loki than the hypothetical puppy.
"No," he chided, bringing his hands to each side of my face and leaning in. "You slowly approach him bearing dog food and treats and toys to show him you're not a threat. That you mean no harm. You translate your intentions into actions."
"You want me to give Loki dog food and treats and toys?" Evander smacked his teeth and I laughed, before saying, "Evander, that's a terrible idea. He's the god of mischief, I'm pretty sure he's just predisposed to be an asshole."
He smiled and shook his head, his eyes sparkling with his innate kindness and affection. "I really don't think so," he said gently. "What! I'm serious," he added when he registered the disbelief on my face. "He's a hurt puppy. His pride is wounded, and pride is important to us men. Our egos are so important, and so fragile."
"You can say that again," I muttered. "Maybe...maybe, I'll try it," I said kissing him, and he melded his lips to mine with more passion than I'd expected. His scent of cologne I knew he'd spent way too much money on wafted into my nose. I relished in the comforting feeling of his warmth as he wrapped his arms around me, melting our bodies together as we kissed passionately. After a few moments, his hands gripped my shoulders, and he gently pushed me away. His eyes looked troubled. He shifted uncomfortably, and I stepped back so he could slide off the counter.
"Something wrong?" I asked, searching his face for clues.
He flashed me a weak smile. "Nothing," he said, but I hardly believed him. "I do need to get going, though. I have a book signing early in the morning."
"You don't want to sleep here?" I asked suspiciously as he moved about, gathering his belongings-laptop, jacket, and notebooks. I remained thoroughly baffled, watching his every movement. Evander slept over nearly every night, he even had a some clothes in my closet. Sometimes, I had to practically shove him out my door when he had important things to do, and refused to leave til the very last minute. But in this particular instance, he was ready to bolt, and before we'd even had sex-which we hadn't done in about a week, either.
His eyes avoided me when he came over to kiss my forehead quickly, before moving to the door. He grabbed knob as if it were Excalibur and he was dying to pull it from it's rock. "Not tonight, I just have to wake up so early, and the bookstore is much closer to my place," he opened the door, and walked out as he said, "I'll see you soon, and I'll call you tomorrow afternoon! Lock the door behind me," and left.
All I could do was stare at the door, as if it'd start talking and tell me why Evander had left so suddenly. Whatever, I told myself. This only served as a reminder of why I never got close to anyone. People were so unpredictable, so confusing, so inexplicable in their actions. So, instead of fruitlessly analyzing his behavior, I went to bed...alone. All the while reminding myself this is what I wanted. Reminding myself how much I loved to be alone, how much I loved all the extra space in my bed. How much I loved all the extra space in my life, actually.