WOAH, it's already six a.m.! I've been writing all morning oAo! You bet it. I did it for you guys, and the need for... Well, whatever this chapter is about. I'm smashed, guys xD Enjoy the stranger at the door :3

III.: Strangers, Candles, and Bottles

Loki's eyes widened at the sight before him, confusion flashing acrossed bright green irises just before he cleared his throat. You have got to be kidding me, he immediately thought, crossing his arms where he stood. "May I ask why you are here..?" His lips uttered, blinking insipidly at the man behind his door, which made Loki shift his light weight to his left foot.

"I'll explain later," said a weak voice; much weaker than it had sounded mere hours before. Another crack of lightening illuminating the entire room—as well as this stranger's face, a set of chartreuse eyes widening with black pupils the size of mere pinholes. "Can you—" The blonde was cut off quickly.

"Oh my god, what happened to you!" hissed Loki, rushing to the blonde with a snatch of his wrist, pulling him inside. The guy was lucky Loki didn't break his wrist with his white-knuckled grip.

Thor's hand was covered in blood—both dried and fresh; hand over the leftmost part of his forehead. His breathing was surprisingly slow, and he smiled at Loki—smiled. The Laufeyson man begun to wonder if everything Thor went to was thought to be a damn joke! He was bleeding profusely for Isis' sake!

But Loki kept calm, used to having his own cuts along his back, arms, hands, et cetera. Though, they did heal, since there were more than just several healing salves both he and Sif had made; together or apart. "Sit," Loki commanded, hand on Thor's broad right shoulder. Oh, man, was he in a befuddling doozey. Why him? What, did Thor actually know that Loki could heal the deepest wound with just a few words and a salve? Questions, questions, Loki thought, opening the oak cabinet just above his lonely stove, which smelt strongly of mostly Sandalwood and mint, scuffling around within the different flasks and vials of oils and herbs; until he found what he was looking for.

It was only a pain reliever; don't think it was a poison—ha! Loki knew not to try something like that again.

Thor looked around while Loki was away, eyes cast on the two doves in their intricate hanging cage. Doves, a black cat—this guy was pretty wicked, man! Wicked, was that the right word? Was it because… Nah, it couldn't be. A bitter sting jolted Thor from his thoughts, yelping softly at the burning. "Holy hell, what was that?" Thor asked with a startled look, blood trickling down from the small split in his eyebrow.

Loki sighed, "I didn't want to interrupt your day dreams about my birds," the brunette deadpanned, letting a giggle slip through his words. It was cruel to laugh at a time like this, but he just couldn't help it- Especially with the priceless expression on Thor's face. Oh, man, it may just be an entertaining night as well as a long one.

"You could've warned me," Thor murmured in a pouty fashion, worrying his upper lip for a moment as Loki dabbed away at the blood on his face. Nimble fingers held the blonde's left cheek to steady his head as the blood was wiped away at, warm water occasionally dripping down the angle of Thor's high cheekbones, feeling a docile fingertip along the small gash in his brow. Only hope managed to support Thor's want of not being asked how the gash got there, and only hope he could.

Loki's pursed lips frowned slightly, parting to take in a small breath. "This may sting again," he warned gently, voice calm and almost wispy next to Thor's ear.

And man, was Loki hella right. It burned immensely, causing the blonde to groan weakly with a furrow of his brows, nails digging into his calloused palm. The witch tried to hush him while the salve was dabbed along the cut, creamy consistency thinning along the edge independently—and damn, did that infinitive the salve did bring a roughly reminiscent smile to Loki's pale lips.

Thor's face relaxed a bit, aggravated at the fact of how he didn't know what the hell Loki was doing to his face, how much it burned and felt cold, then hot, then like a phantom wound. The warmth was back, but this time it was wet—Thor realized then that it was the damp cloth against the side of his forehead and temple.

"Jane punched you, didn't she?" Loki broke within the silence, biting his lips to suppress his comical grin.

Thor furrowed his brow again, eyes nearly accusing in their depths towards the astronomer at his side. "I would really like to know how you suddenly know everything about me, trickster." Thor grumbled, watching the witch whom he knew nary about disappear into the kitchen again. He heard a loud, rough sigh and an under toned laugh. Thor's fuse was slow, smoldering and burning.

Footsteps matched the movement of Loki's agile strut, boots letting the tap echo through the apartment. Thor looked in the direction of the kitchen, blinking as an attempt to look around the corner for the brunette.

Loki cleared his throat, raising a brow at Thor's astonished look that was thrown at him. "Cat got your tongue?" Laufeyson asked, tilting his head as Sigyn jumped to his shoulder. Pale lips turned up into a catlike grin, turning to his kitten with a small nuzzle. "No, I wasn't talking about you, cat," he muttered to the feline friend of his, who mewled at the blonde intruder in her household. The cat had a mind of her own, and she always acted like a human. What could she say; she had an amazing owner that gave her milk and delicious food!

Thor found it difficult to talk; like his mouth had gone dry as cotton and his tongue had swelled up. "You," he tried, but his voice wouldn't allow him to get any further with his words. He only laughed, Thor, and shook his head.

"Must be her time of the month," Loki inquisited (about Jane), taking a seat at the small round table seated in the middle of the small room next to the piano and couches, a small flash of light coming from the window. Loki snapped his fingers, smirk present on his lips.

Thor's words slipped out instantly, in the form that was quite loud and almost awestruck. "How do you do that thing where you're one place and then another!" Thor exclaimed faintly, blinking his cerulean eyes at the catlike being in front of him. "It is impossibly in-humane!" Thor took a moment of silence to catch his breath.

Loki raised his eyebrows, shaking his head daintily. "In the same way I can do this," the witch started, sliding from his seat to walk over to the nearest candle. Thor watched with curious eyes, as Loki picked out an unused, pure white, taper candle. "See this candle?"

"What are you," Thor's train of thought trailed off when the brunette sat back down, nodding at his earlier asked question. Loki's eyes were vibrant in the dark, taking in a breath, and exhaling softly into the wick. What is he, Odinson thought for a mere moment, watching as the candle lit itself in a flicker and flash.

Wide eyes stared, stared, and stared at the man in front of him, gaze flickering to the candle, then to the supernatural being in front of him. "Speak. I know what you're thinking, ," said the witch, leaning back in his chair, hands out in surrender like notion. "You've caught me."

Cerulean gazed into shadowed aventurine, wondering for a moment if anyone's eyes could get any brighter than this man's. Loki truly was a different kind of person compared to others, he was so beautiful in an oddly masculine way. Damn him for that, that's for sure. Thor studied Loki's face for moments; from the high, sharp cheekbones to Laufeyson's perfectly thin lips, how pale and delicate his complexion, how delicate his sweetheart jaw line was…

One could accuse the blonde of daydreaming, really.

Thor could think of so many words to match the wandering feelings for this creature in front of him, the one with the jet black hair and the tea green and emerald highlights in his irises: Lavish to simply curious. "Beautiful." Thor purred, staring blankly at the Wiccan before him.

Loki's eyes blinked, wide and unfaltering when they stared back at the blue depths of Thor's. "Qu'est-ce?" Loki asked, most unaware of the non-English he spoke, mouth parted in both confusion and flatter.

"You heard me, trickster," Thor's mouth turned up into a smile, eyes sparking with a child like curiosity. "You're so different, you're…"

"A witch?"

"An awe-striking being."

"A witch..?"

"A stupefying practitioner."

"A witch."

"A witch." Thor settled on, expression bright with an enlightenment as if he had just seen his first self-lit, gasoline-drenched bonfire. In other words, pricelessly somewhat entertained.

The pianist bit his bottom lip, face conveying that he was contemplating many different things at once…

He took a breath, faced Thor with a tilt of his head and a witty smile, before disappearing into a wisp, reappearing at the small sofa just one-o-clock from where Thor sat, opening a cabinet and grabbing out a large bottle.

The blonde's facial expression went back to that mixture of confusion and awe, the corners of his mouth twitching up again. He uttered out another one of those bewildered words along the lines of "beautiful" and others, gasping lightly when the brunette—witch – reappeared back in front of him with the bottle. "You like vodka, right?"

"You're trouble," Thor laughed amusedly.

And, surprisingly, so did Loki.

Both men ended up on the foot of the couch, giggling, slurring messes. Somehow Sigyn had gotten hold of Thor's flannel shirt, leaving him clad in only jeans and a tee. While he was half laying on the ground, Loki sat up with his legs in a full-lotus, playing with candles and turning pages in books without using his hands at all, each time earning a drunken sound of awe from the blonde oaf next to him.

Thor seemed to become an extremely innovatively intelligent man when drunk, Loki noted, who had come up with an entire of how cat claws retracted and sheathed. It was quite a sight, actually. On the other hand, Loki was more of the putting-a-snowglobe-to-your-ear-and-thinking-you-can-hear-the-ocean sort of drunk; giggly and not too bright. Complete opposites from their sober personas, definitely.

On the subject of what they talked about—well, let's just say it was all about relationships. Well, it sort of went from relationships, to cats, to superstition, to whether or not scrambled eggs are better than fried ones. When the conversation died down, the two sort of just giggled at the doves, and the cat that was still playing with Thor's flannel. Though Loki did tell him a bit about himself. Actually, more like a shitload about himself. His few experiences with women, with punishment from the aftermath of bad spells; Thor was quite interested in those stories. He sort of

But when the conversation stopped, both men went silent and blurry, either staring at one another, or staring at the ceiling.

"You really are somethin', Loki," Thor stated with a hum like giggle, face flushed a warm shade of red from the alcohol in his system. Loki pursed his lips, just like he always did. "Y' don't get that a lot, do ya'?"

Loki shook his head, hand out in front of him, as if he were playing a piano—and just as he flexed his fingers downwards, the same keys his fingers depicted played on the grand in the corner, eyes closed to the sound of a Massive Attack song. This, of course, caught Thor's drunken attention for a moment, smile wide on his face. "No." Loki answered blankly.

Odinson tilted his head, lying down on his back, neck craned back to get an upside down look at his friend. He even looked beautiful flipped like that. "Why not~? You're exquisite, you're unique—not to mention one in a million in looks—"

"It's all because I'm a witch."

A small bit of understanding found its way into Thor's ethics for Loki, taking in a small sigh. "I was born into the craft, people found out what I was, I was teased, threatened with death and the depths of hell," Loki's words went on, and Thor couldn't resist the frown that formed upon his lips.

Loki stopped talking when a finger pushed against his lips, Thor's face adjacent to the left of him. "Sh. Not all people see you that way," Thor slurred, watching the two, blinking aventurine eyes that trailed over his own facial features. The blonde's hand dropped.

"Who—"

"I do."

Loki's brow raised in the middle, realizing that—passed the drunken tone of voice—Thor's sincerity wasn't the alcohol making it up. The witch's lips were still parted, eyes almost unblinking as he stared at the year elder male. "You mean that?" stoned Loki, suspicion in his eyes.

The blonde nodded, face unnoticeably inches away from Loki's own. What, they were both drunk; nothing was worth giving any shits to anyways. Especially how far or close their faces were—it didn't exactly matter much. "I appreciate you."

Laufeyson's facial expression turned outspoken as well as out worded, leaning forwards to rest his head on Thor's right shoulder. His warm sigh blew against Thor's neck. "Thank you."

It was a serene moment between the two almost-strangers, and it didn't actually matter that they were drunk, it didn't matter that they were having a flamingly heterosexual moment, no. None of that shit truly mattered at a time like this (unless Jane walked in, of course). They were sitting, appreciating the company, breathing each other in, and dozing off occasionally together… It had been a long and appreciated night. All thanks to Jane splitting Thor's eyebrow open her fist.

Ah, a long night indeed.

I hope you liked it :3 I ca't wait to write the next chapter x3 I hope you guys can't wait either- I lost an entire morning of sleep for you people! Nah, kidding; I took a hella rad nap. Thanks for the support :3

Please, por favor, s'il vous plaît; Critique my writing! I would highly appreciate any kind of critique-like-reviews :3!