I just want to apologize for how long it's taken to update. Some unforeseeable complications arose and as a result, updating has been difficult. And when I finally did get the chance to work on this chapter, I'm telling you, it was difficult. I felt like I'd lost the voice of the character and nearly had to force out each action and dialogue. I hate writing like that. But I knew I couldn't put off this chapter until I felt it convenient. So, here it is. I can't say it will be fantastic, but I owe this to everyone who's been loyal and reviewed. Fantastic reviews, by the way, as always. I love hearing my reader's thoughts. Hopefully, this doesn't disappoint too much. And know that I haven't abandoned this story. Just keep on checking your inbox and eventually, you will get an update. Enjoy!
Chapter 9 – Starcrossed Nights
"What the hell happened?"
Cringing, I ignored the voice as my grip on Loki's ankles tightened.
Throughout this entire time, I was battling off amusement and horror. And perhaps just the tiniest bit of guilt.
I did warn him.
But the thought of a God being indented into a wall, couldn't stop from making my lips quiver in barely concealed mirth. Really, Loki's downfall came from never listening to anybody else's advice but his own.
With a soft grunt, I tugged on his legs.
The God barely stirred at the action, and I wasn't sure if this made me feel pleased or dismayed at the force field having done so much to subdue him.
Good grief, I hope he's not dead.
Luckily, my strength had more to show than my restrictive laughter.
A few good tugs later, followed by colorful, internal cursing, and I finally had Loki deposited on the carpeted floor.
One thin line of blood sped from his temple and I fell to my knees, concern overriding everything else.
"Lucy?"
Nearly forgetting the figure above, I glanced up, the slightest bit of panic rushing through me.
"Jonathan."
"What happened?"
"That's not the primary concern. Do you have something we can clean him up with at your apartment?"
The man nodded hastily, eyes scanning over my unconscious companion. His eyes widened as he did a double take.
"Isn't this your ex?"
It took me a full second to comprehend what he was talking about.
"Yeah," I tried laughing, "can you help?"
"But-."
"I know. Unfortunately, it appears as if I've actually hurt him this time. Please?"
Jonathan shifted on both feet, features attempting to decipher the best course of action.
"Okay," he finally agreed, "let's bring him to my apartment."
Nodding, I quickly shot to my feet.
Together, we gathered Loki by sliding one hand underneath his back. When I was sure I could support the weight, we lifted.
"Forget what I said about him looking hungry," Jonathan puffed, dragging the man across the carpet with a grimace. "This guy's got an iron diet I don't know about."
"You have no idea."
Five minutes later and we had successfully deposited Loki onto a maroon sofa, laid out in a manner I couldn't help but note was very un-God like. One hand flung off the sofa carelessly, another leg following the same pattern while his mouth hung open, just waiting for some sort of debris to drop in.
As Jonathan fumbled around behind me for a wet towel, I placed both of Loki's limbs on to the sofa and pressed two fingers to his pulse.
Well, at least he's still alive.
And this decreased my panic immensely. As far as I knew, the force field's intention was not to harm, at least not initially. It reflected the intentions of the pursuer.
If Loki was unconscious, it simply meant he had no immediate purpose to harm me. Or at least I hoped not.
"Here, take this."
Without turning, I lifted my hand and felt the cold cloth squish down into my palm.
Gently, I eased the cloth over Loki's forehead and began lightly dabbing at the blood trail. It had already reached down to the corner of his lip.
After a minute or two of doing this, I heard a cough to the left of me.
"So erm...what exactly happened?"
Sighing, I wiped away the last of the scarlet and worked on simply patting his forehead.
"I got mad and pushed him."
"…through a wall?"
Peeking at Jonathan from beneath my lids, I smiled sheepishly.
"I'm high in iron as well."
My neighbor's features contorted into confusion.
"I'm guessing this is one of those situations where I won't like the real answer."
"That's...about accurate."
When I was sure Loki wasn't in any immediate danger of long term head trauma, I handed the cloth back to Jonathan.
"Thank you very much for this," I said, facing him. "Not everyone would be willing to help out someone in need of assistance."
It was the first time we really had the chance to have a proper conversation since the night we had sex, which conveniently, he couldn't remember. All because of the man on the sofa.
Funny how the world works.
"Not a problem. He didn't try hitting you, did he?"
Thinking back to my newly healed bruises, I scratched at the back of my head.
"Not really. As you can see, I did most of the damage."
The brunette nodded, rubbing his hands.
"I've actually got work in a few minutes…"
"Do you need me to-?"
"No, I trust you," he replied."Question is, can I trust him?"
When the gulp flew down my throat, I hoped he didn't hear it. There were literally a hundred and one reasons settled on the tip of my tongue, on why exactly allowing hospitality to a murderous alien was a bad idea.
But intelligent me, stayed silent.
"Of course," I answered with a comforting smile. "He's in pain now anyway. What could he possibly do?"
"Alright. Start thinking if there's anything else you need of me before I get going."
"Will do."
"And Lucy…I've got to ask."
At his inquisitive gaze, I held in a tense breath.
"Go ahead."
Jonathan's eyes scanned over Loki's form once more, expression unreadable.
"Why does he smell like he's just been barbequed?"
Containing the rising in my lips, I offered him a solemn stare.
"He's naturally hot."
One corner of Jonathan's lips twitched in amusement, but otherwise, he only sent me a nod as if that explained everything. Then, he ventured to the next room, muttering about attire for the evening.
Once alone, I turned back to Loki and began a motion of running the pads of my fingers over his features, beginning with his pale, moist forehead and sauntering down to the bridge of his nose. I meant to do it as a sort of consolation as retribution for my actions, but quickly, I found that the wandering eased my mind as well.
Honestly, the God really was quite handsome when he wasn't pinched up in anger or smirking in hate or grinning in malice. In fact, one could argue his looks rivaled his own brothers', although not something one could pick up on instantly. He had a subtle beauty that you didn't see until perhaps moments before your own demise.
Or when he was unconscious.
Flinching, I felt the guilt seep back inside me.
I knew I meant to do it for protection, but seeing somebody physically injured due to my actions, didn't prolong the side effects of culpability. A Queen helped, not harmed.
"Sorry," I offered, thumb gliding over his cheek.
The longer my fingers stayed trailing his features, the more enamored I seemed to become with them.
I didn't know if it was my childish innocence of exploring a man's face or simply the way Loki's brow stooped in thought, even whilst unconscious, informing me that whatever haunted him, dipped into his subconscious as well.
Whatever my…fascination, I closed my eyes in response, willing myself to override the guilt and reach out to the universe, which was in its own way, responsible for Loki's current state.
Sort of.
But just as the days before me, I got nothing. Not a buzz. Not a prod. Not even an acknowledgment.
"Tenacious creation," I muttered.
And just when I was ready to attempt another contact, I felt something icy wrap around my wrist.
My eyes shot open, only to find Loki's green glare aimed straight at me.
I tried not to gasp at this sudden awakening or the hand wrapped around my wrist like an immovable bracelet.
Internally, however, I knew I didn't quite succeed. Even when within view, the God of Mischief still seemed to carry the element of surprise. Impressive, but deadly.
The ten seconds passing by definitely did nothing to ease my state of mind. I was hopelessly aware Jonathan still lingered inside the apartment, and in possible danger. I was also denying my flinch at how brutal of a grasp my wrist was caught in. And finally, I was irrevocably curious toward what exactly was going through Loki's head.
What were an individual's thoughts after nearly being electrocuted to death?
Eventually, the tension got to be too much, and slowly but surely, I gained back my voice.
"I did warn you."
Loki exhaled, and then ever so slightly, decreased the pressure around my wrist.
Quietly, he leaned his head back on the sofa, eyes still glued to mine.
"You could have warned me a bit more thoroughly," came his accusation.
The grin crept over my lips without notice.
"I'll remember that the next time."
The God ripped away his focus from me, instead, fixing it onto the ceiling above. With my hand still remaining his captive, by the way.
Let me mention that having your wrist gripped in not only a God's hand, but a Frost Giant's, isn't the most pleasant of experiences. It feels as if all of the veins have frozen and the blood, melted into an icy lake. And the fact that Loki was inhumanly strong, only adds to that helpless feeling of having something you love, caught in a trap.
Actually, it wasn't until I had no control over my hand, that I realized how much I've taken it for granted.
"I feel very peculiar," he voiced softly.
Trying to keep my tone light, I said,"In what way?"
"I cannot describe the sensations. But I feel very much like I imagine an unfortunate recipient of Thor's hammer would, were they struck with it."
With the hand not caught in a death grip, I lowered it casually over one of Loki's hands, settled haphazardly across his stomach. Just from a few millimeters away, I could confirm this theory. His entire body buzzed, still in shock from the jolt he'd received.
"You'll stay that way for a while. Mainly, it's to remind you what happens if you try a repeat performance."
Loki remained mute, still observing the ceiling.
During this duration, I nonchalantly attempted to twist my arm out of his grip. I wasn't sure how to delicately word that I would greatly enjoy still having a hand, and I really didn't want to anger him in such delicate surroundings.
But the God was far more aware of my intentions than I realized.
"Why was your hand upon me?" he demanded.
Confused, I found my eyes examining the cut in his hairline.
"You were bleeding. I dabbed it up. After that, I guess…it was out of comfort."
His eyes shot back to mine, studying me suspiciously.
"Don't tell me you're insulted by a being lower than you, having the nerve to touch your immaculate features," I jested lightly.
Tightening his hold, Loki's eyes strayed to the limb he had on lock down mode. I thought for sure, he would attempt to snap it out of anger.
But instead, he released it. Like one would do so to a particularly disdainful flower that hadn't satisfied its purpose for being picked.
Despite the shiver and light blue bruising surrounding my wrist, I remained silent. Compared to the shape he was in, I really had no reason to vent.
"Did you really hate my ministrations that badly?" I wondered, hoping my small talk would be an amiable distraction.
Loki didn't speak for a moment, seemingly lost in thought.
Only after a minute, did a slow grin spread over his lips.
"When I am the sole ruler of this realm," he announced proudly, gaze fixed on me, "you will be my personal servant. This will include feeding me, and of course as you so artistically displayed, relaxing me."
A snort sprung from me before I had the chance to contain it.
I really didn't know why these sorts of musings from the God amused me so much. Was it the absurdity of ruling a world? Perhaps a bit of over confidence on my part because I knew I had something which would outweigh his sorcery any time? Or the fact that I knew without a doubt, his plans would never fall through?
Whatever the reasoning, Loki's smile disappeared in response to my impolite display.
"Sorry," I breathed out, bringing a hand to my chest. "That was…rude of me. Please, continue with your world domination plans."
The next look he threw me was absolutely acidic, and I noted he had a split second intention of rising from the sofa. But for whatever reason, he kept himself grounded.
"I have more tricks up my sleeve than you are aware of," he remarked enigmatically.
Nodding, I smothered down my smile and went back to watching him.
"Since your malicious humor isn't lacking, tell me, are you alright?"
This time, it was his turn to laugh in my face.
"I should kill you for daring to harm me," he declared, eyes gleaming.
Strangely, the threat wasn't as serious when he was the one injured.
"Just like you're going to kill me for taking your staff?" I finished with a raised eyebrow. "Here come those circles again."
"Do you always have to ruin the fun?" he denounced, grin dispersing.
"Absolutely not. I just have a very different definition of fun than you do. Which doesn't include physically assaulting random beings."
The God gave what was supposed to be a scoff, but really came out more of an annoyed growl.
"I do not know what kind of being personally gets gratification from inserting themselves between two warring aliens. Perhaps I have no plans on figuring out what you are anymore," he coolly mentioned.
"Oh what a relief," I sighed, moving to stand.
Before I could even get a knee up, Loki grabbed the same arm he'd latched on to minutes prior, and tugged down until I stumbled back on my knees once more.
"Surely, you are aware of sarcasm?"
Although I couldn't hint at the tone, Loki's almost seemed imploring.
"Yours is something I still have to get used to."
For this comment, Loki shot me a self-satisfied smirk.
"I want to know," he began, eyes scanning the apartment, "where I am."
Glancing down at the hand he kept locked on mine, I offered him a meaningful stare that said 'let it go or I won't say a word'.
"I do not believe one speaks with their hand," he advised, pulling me further toward him.
Anymore tugging and I'd easily be on top of him. Something eerily reminiscent of kissing his brother.
And that thought just had to occupy my mind then and there, didn't it?
Taking in his grin, I shot him one of my own before slowly raising the middle finger of the hand he clutched onto.
"Classy as ever," he smirked, releasing the limb.
"Earth has some very peculiar gestures of irritation," I admitted, feeling a tad light headed at the near contact.
With my words, he flinched. And soon after, his grin fell.
"Your importance decreases each time you embrace one of these pathetic gestures," he vented. "Silly, meaningless gestures of a primitive race with no history of diplomacy or real worth."
Despite his outburst, I couldn't help but ask, "Importance to whom?"
The God paused, lips parted ever so slightly. But not a single world traveled out.
Understanding he wasn't going to answer after a few seconds of uncomfortable staring, I brushed off the incensed comment with relative ease and offered up a reassuring smile.
"You should be sore, just based on how much of the shield you took in, for a couple of days. You've got a cut, I'm sure you noticed, on your head. Sorry about that, but I did warn you multiple times. Other than that, you should be fine."
"Days? You forget I am a God."
"If I had forgotten you were a God, we could be having this conversation in different scenery."
This earned me a glare, but something told me he hadn't put forth all of his energy into it.
"And right now," I continued, feeling my confidence return, "we're at-."
My words were cut short by Jonathan's footsteps padding back into the room.
Immediately, I noted the tension rise up within Loki as his green eyes took in my neighbor. And like a blast to my back, the same unease seemed to protrude from my neighbor.
"I see he's doing well," Jonathan observed, fingers buttoning up his brown jacket.
I turned to him calmly.
"Yes. Thank you again, for helping us out."
"Anytime," he smiled.
Just when I thought perhaps the animosity would clear out, Jonathan paused before reaching the front door.
His sharp, brown eyes fixed themselves onto Loki.
"Where I'm from and the family I grew up with, well...we respect women. I do hope, Lyle that you leave Lucy alone. She is a sweet, caring, and beautiful girl. Who doesn't need a jackass like you around."
By this point, had Loki still been gripping my hand, I was sure it'd be broken. Moreover, I was beating myself up for first having mentioned Loki as an excuse, so many weeks ago. Really, this had to be one of the worst instances of karma ever.
Fighting back my anxiety, I slowly turned toward to Loki.
My stomach churned when I saw the show of teeth he displayed. You didn't have to be an expert on alien expressions to know the viciousness laced in the contours of his lips.
"No," I warned gently, eyes burning.
Loki ignored the request, eyes fixed on Jonathan.
And then, he spoke.
"That is not what she mentioned the night before."
Slamming my eyes shut, I smacked one hand to my forehead while my teeth ground down in agitation.
This isn't happening.
"I doubt she did this voluntary," Jonathan argued, stomping forward.
If possible, my stomach dropped right out of my body. The only reason I opened up my eyes again was because I felt movement on the sofa.
While I had been studiously wishing the situation would defuse on its own, Loki had gathered himself into a sitting position. I recognized the clenching of his jaw, but couldn't determine if it was from the pains in his body or Jonathan's words.
Without warning, Loki released a venomous laugh, the noise alone causing my apprehension to skyrocket.
Just as he transferred his legs over the edge of the couch, now in a full sitting position, I sprang up from my knees and sank down on the sofa beside him. One of my legs nudged at his own, attempting to direct them toward me and not into a pounce, while one hand carefully extended to his face.
Once my palm cupped his cheek, I rubbed a thumb over the white skin.
"Loki, placet," I murmured, hoping he'd recognize the request.
It was like watching somebody fall back into themselves from the outer reaches of the universe.
For a moment, Loki's body was unnervingly still, eyes set in a determined, ancient gaze. Any longer and I would have thought he was a statue.
Then, ever so slowly, he turned to me, one of his hands rising to the cheek I had cupped. His expression seemed lost and determined at the same exact time.
"Placet," I said again, this time as a request rather than a plead.
He knew what I wanted, that much, I could tell. Or perhaps what I didn't want to happen, as evident by the fury raging in his irises, transforming his cool green eyes into a stormy, near-black.
He blinked, and then exhaled.
And what I felt at the stare he gave me, I can't explain. But it was not hate or spite or fury greeting me back. No, it was dimensional. Like platforms of a person's inner conscious, or the stages of Dante's Inferno. A brief glimpse into the innards of what made a being live.
In one gaze, I witnessed a world, and in Loki's case, of pain and hope. Salvation and damnation. Love and fear and hate and pain and a thirst for acceptance.
And that was enough to make me suck in a breath as if it were the last I'd ever be breathing in.
Ultimately, by this look, I knew what Loki was granting me. Something he didn't to very many people.
A chance.
"I'll have him out of the apartment within an hour," I commented swiftly to Jonathan, eyes un-straying from Loki's own. I was afraid of what would happen if the contact was severed.
I barely heard Jonathan's reply, exploring the God before me. Who really wasn't one, at least not in a literal sense. The universe did not realistically allow such beings to reach such a powerful stature.
No, he was man - physically, mentally, and emotionally. Even if he tried denying it.
Minutes later, or it could have been days for all I knew, I realized we were finally alone. The silence of the room nearly compressed upon my form, screaming at me to act lest I was crushed.
Letting out a large sigh, I blinked. And despite the edgy situation, my lips quirked up. Again, that same, odd sense of humor of mine, charged right back at me, replaying what just happened at breakneck speed.
"Now THAT was fun!" I announced.
Before I could even utter out a laugh, Loki grabbed on to the hand I had rested on his cheek and pulled it to his chest, knuckles immediately pressing into flesh through a thin shirt. Swinging forward with the motion, I watched his opposite hand snake its way quickly around my back, pulling me toward him until nothing but a foot separated our faces.
I met his gaze in barely concealed puzzlement, but Loki gave away absolutely no intentions.
"Who is Lyle?" he first questioned.
"Your alias as my jealous, ex-boyfriend," I casually explained, hot and cold from Loki's touch.
Although naturally cool, the arm he had locked around my back as well as the grip he had on my hand, seemed to scorch my skin. And that, out of all of the things Loki had threatened to do to me and actually had done, scared me most of all. Such an immediate and intense reaction to a touch was not healthy. Or normal.
At this, Loki frowned.
"I do not understand your ethics."
Raising my eyebrows, I urged him silently to continue.
"You seduce mortal men into your bed without trying, and then move on to Gods."
Scoffing, I tried backing away, but Loki was in a persistent state of mind.
I only managed an inch before he pulled me back.
"Jonathan was a good man. I thought I had feelings for him," I defended, unperturbed by this divulgence. "And kissing Thor was a mistake. We would have never worked out. I can see you really believe I'm some sort of harlot, but I assure you, I'm just trying to navigate this realm like you are."
My heart sped up at this proclamation, unsettled and excited at the proximity. Which I still naively tried to convince was nothing but my imagination.
"So these lips have truly touched my brother's?"
His voice fell into a harsh whisper.
"Yes," I answered openly. "What does it matter?"
"It matters very much," he spoke, green gaze falling to them, "It matters because I am unexplainably, and perhaps a bit grudgingly, drawn to them and feel a burning hate at the thought of anyone other than myself, enjoying their taste."
By the time I comprehended his words, he had already crushed our mouths together, allowing absolutely no separation.
This time, he channeled someone other than an angry man. Or disgusted. This time, the kiss was meant to erase every trace of Thor's taste, and then some. These lips tearing at me were hungry and possessive. Tongue ready to taste that which he could not visibly understand. Wanting so much more than just the contact. Wanting the hope he'd channeled for a brief second, inside his eyes.
These realizations dropped on me one after another as Loki gradually began pressing his full weight over top of me, the grip on my back now a simple, outstretched hand.
I can't do this. Good grief, this is just like Thor all over again.
When Loki bit down on the same area he'd formally torn into, I realized this was far different than Thor. Just as passionate, but so very different.
My opportunity came when Loki finally pulled his mouth away, inhaling oxygen like a fish gasps for water.
"Stop," I mumbled.
Instead of heeding my word, the hand he was crushing my hand to his heart with, dropped and came to rest on my own cheek.
Now, I couldn't seem to believe Loki had ever been born a Frost Giant. His touch scorched my skin.
"We can't do this," I tried again, attempting to keep a level head.
Again, he ignored the words, head suddenly disappearing into the crook of my neck. Then, like a wild animal, he inhaled, cold nose skimming across heated skin.
"Loki!" I exclaimed firmly, struggling to keep my eyes from flying shut. This was the contact I'd been missing from Jonathan. And wouldn't you know it; I was in full shiver mode.
"Stop!" I bit out, emphasizing my point by throwing both my hands into his shoulders.
This forced a separation of our bodies, and for the first time, clarity sunk into Loki's face.
His eyes, once scanning my lips hungrily, narrowed and like he'd personally inhaled something ghastly, Loki pulled his head away from my own.
I watched this transformation with a sense of frustration. Did the God simply lose control, or did he genuinely feel passion raging in him, equal to my own?
More to the point, I was frustrated at my inability to act. With my experiences around Loki, I knew he was not one to trust with such vulnerabilities. He could easily expose them.
This was enough motivation to break off the kiss.
And I am a Queen. From a realm he's never heard of, and never will. Like Thor, he's unattainable even if his passion proves real. Which isn't likely.
Seconds after my protest, I was dumped unceremoniously on the floor. Without warning. Straight on my butt.
As I worked on pulling myself up, Loki's feet bounded across the room.
I could tell just in the steps he took, he was walking through the pain I'd inflicted on him. Physical or emotional, I couldn't be sure.
Right when I thought he would simply vanish again, the God whipped around, gruesome frown twisting away at his features.
"Everyone always loved my brother best," he spat. "Especially the concubines. That is all you are. A brainless, power-hungry, whore."
Shaking my head, I felt the words enter my ears and settle down like a fiery poker.
Did he just-?
An anger so strong raged through me that by the time I was back on my feet, I could already feel the universe's energy wanting to storm through every one of my pores.
"Listen here, and listen clearly," I nearly yelled, shaking in place. "I do not think Thor better than you. I do not think you better than Thor. I personally don't give a shit about romance and whatever sort of feelings you both are trying to contain me in. Do you want to know why?"
A part of me lodged inside, awaiting the beast to finish roaring, was silently cheering at the step Loki took backwards. As a result, I stomped forward, brown eyes narrowed, hair crackling, and lips twisted.
"Because I care about both of your well-being! I care about the pain you both suffer at the distance you've created. I hate seeing such broken beings attempt to kill each other when they should be holding on with all they've got. Is that really so hard to believe? And I want peace on this damn planet as well! That means ending the conflict you two seem to be committed to engaging in until one of you dies. That is my intention. No smoke screens. No brainless cajoling with a hunky God just because he looked my way. Just my duty."
Now, the anger was beginning to channel my insecurities. The worst part was I could feel them amounting, but could do nothing to stop it.
"Because after this, Loki," I snapped, a shakiness spreading from my voice all the way down to my legs, "I'm going home. Where neither of you can follow. And I'm going there to die alone because I'm not meant to be loved by anyone but my own race. I am a lonely creature, observing time and space, war and peace, able to reach out, but to never indulge. I have accepted this and I'll be damned if I allow some petulant, piddling demi-God slander my name!"
And after these words, I wanted to do something I hadn't done in ages. Something my realm would frown upon, believing their Queen to be weak. Because at this point, everything piled up into one great ball of emotions, and I couldn't figure out for the life of me, how to deflate it.
I wanted to cry.
"I am not done!" I shrieked, sensing the subtle shift in atmosphere indicating Loki's attempt to teleport. "Why would I even begin to think you feel love for me? Because despite never being able to have it, that is what I crave. And so far, you've beat, threatened, and hated me with unrestrained passion. Now that I've said no to you, you're hurt, understandable. Throughout all this, I am going to be sympathetic to what you're feeling like right now. But know this. My place in this realm is to heal your and Thor's wounds. Not to be some little play thing when you feel my presence is convenient. I respect myself far more than that. And if you hate me for this, then it is your problem, not mine!"
Breaths raced out of me, nearly making me dizzy from the lack of oxygen my brain was receiving. My heart raced uncontrollably, fingers twitching from the energy pulsing through them, and my eyes were wide and feral.
Quite literally, I felt an explosion of emotion inside me, all indefinable, but very much real.
When Loki didn't answer, I finally forced my eyes to clear through the rage.
The man stood in place, staring at me. Were the situation different, I'd have found his open mouth and wide eyes, amusing. Now, however, I felt as if I'd personally dissolved my own sense of humor.
The closer I observed him, the more I came to find that his gaze was directed specifically at something to the left of me.
Squinting, I followed his gaze, turning to my left, wondering what he was so preoccupied with.
What met my own sight astonished me just as much.
A single strand of my auburn hair, was levitating in the air as if some impish child was holding on to the opposite end. What really made me lose my breath, however, was the color of the lock.
It was a nearly silver-white. Appearing ancient, but not elderly.
"Wow," I murmured, unsure what to feel at the turn of events. "Now that is something you don't see every day."
The lock floated in place a minute longer, but during this minute, I felt my anger ebb away, instead, becoming replaced with wonder.
And gradually, the strand of pale began to recede back to its brown, red, and orange roots.
By the time I grasped on to the fact that my entrenched anger had directly caused the transformation in the color of my hair, the lock was back down with its companions, naturally colored once more.
Loki cleared his throat after a strained minute.
"Does that happen often?"
My instinct was to smile initially. It was the first time I'd ever heard honest trepidation in his voice. The realization that I'd caused it, only served to help improve my mood.
But I fought off this impulsion. I was still partially irate at his accusations.
"Go find your brother," I gently implored instead. "You two need each other."
Instead of folloing my advice, Loki risked a step toward me, scanning me with an impassive expression.
"I do not understand you," he repeated. "Not one bit."
Shrugging, I crossed my arms. I didn't have it in me to continue a conversation with everything that just happened.
"But," Loki promised, meeting my eyes, "I intend to. Very soon."
He then broke into a quick laugh, before visibly flinching at the action.
This told me he was still in pain, but trusted me enough for me to bear witness to it.
"Are we done with the random, stress relieving kisses?" I inquired.
Instead of answering, he shot back a question.
"Do you honestly believe that is what fueled my actions? Stress?"
"What else could it possibly be?"
One corner of his mouth twitched as his eyes narrowed. For a second, the movements reminded me of the visage reigning supreme over his features after he'd pulled away from the kiss.
"Who knew our attraction to you would be the common ground?" Loki mused, clasping his hands behind him.
Before I could even begin to ask, the God vanished in place.
Studying the apartment minutes later, I couldn't help but mumble with a lock of hair clutched between two fingers, "What a mess."
What a complicated bunch of people, aren't they? Also, when "Lucy" was telling Loki 'placet' as she noticed the anger rise in him from Jonathan's words, that's Latin for 'please.' Whatever your thoughts on the chapter, I'd love to know. Although, I'm kind of scared. Again, another one of those chapters that I have absolutely no idea what to think of. But as always, let me know your thoughts in a review!
