She's restless, a bundle of buzzing energy as she bounces on the balls of her feet, her cotton nightdress floating in the midnight breeze.
The rails of the balcony are cool beneath her palms and she gazes up at Loki with familiarity, shy beams of moonlight illuminating her pale features as she smiles at him. He laughs, pulling from his pocket a golden necklace, wrapping his fingers around the delicate amulet hanging from its middle. Sigyn gasps, surprised, and quickly takes his hands into hers, the emerald gem reflecting in her mirrored eyes.
"A gift," Loki whispers, ducking his head so that his lips brush against the shell of her pointed ear, "for the keeper of my heart."
Sigyn offers a small smile, feeling the strange heat emanating from the necklace, and shrugs off all thoughts of magic as she cranes her neck, his lips crushing against hers as they cling to each other, murmurs of endearment lost to the rush of the ocean tides below.
...
"This is no time for games, Loki," Sigyn mutters angrily, half whispers thrown at him as they quietly argue in the corner, where she'd quite aggressively tugged him over, eyes fuming. "You can't just give a gift and take it away."
Loki finds the nerve to smirk and chuckles darkly, eyes searching her face for traces of annoyance, her necklace glowing beneath her dress.
"You mean, like a heart?" She stares at him, completely unfazed, and rolls her eyes, speaking in slow tones, as if he's a child that needs to be talked down from his temper tantrum. "Don't even go there, Loki," she admonishes harshly, frowning.
Loki spares a glance behind him, frustrated, and catches Amora's violet tinted stare, her nostrils flaring in anger and she crosses her arms, idly listening to Tony and Bruce's conversation, filled with such scientific jargon that she turns from it, uninterested. Loki gives his attention back to the slender woman before him, staring up at him incredulously as she realizes he wasn't listening to a single word she just said, and her pale hands curl into fists at her side, her eyes shining dangerously, the fresh scent of rage-filled magic wafting in the air.
Loki puts his hands out in front of him, as if to calm a wild animal, and Sigyn's anger subsides, replaced by immense exhaustion, her mind weary from the stress of the past few days. He finds himself starting to frown, a sure sign of weakness, and forces his face into a mask of impassivity. Sigyn shakes her head at him, her eyes glinting.
"I don't care what you say; it's mine."
And with that, she stalks off, brushing past his shoulder with all the grace of an elephant, and rushes down the corridor, slamming her bedroom door with great force, leaving a thundering boom in her wake.
Please R&R!