Warning for this chapter: Mentions of suicide - it is brief, but it is there.
Lilies Say Sorry
It had seemed like a good idea in the moment to gulp down the leftover Asgardian wine, but by the time Loki arrived back at Avengers Tower, the extra tipple had made its way into his bloodstream and further clouded his already frustrated mind, causing his movements to become somewhat cloddish.
He was almost relieved to find that Thor was still awake at the late hour, and wasted no time in making his vexation known.
"Thor. Training room. Now", Loki barked with no room for argument as he approached the sturdy man in the corridor; the golden-haired god took one look at his brother and his eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"Loki, have you been drinking?"
Loki gave an infuriated scoff, cursing Thor's newfound sharpness. The God of Thunder never used to have such a keen sense of knowing, but the years had clearly gifted the man with distinguishing perception and logic. Either that, or Loki was far too transparent in his current state.
"You can hardly talk, brother", Loki snarled, "You use any and all occasions to drink whatever you can get your hands on." His fists clenched at his sides and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other repeatedly, restlessly, "Besides, I had one bottle. I am far from drunk."
"Are you quite sure, brother?" Thor enquired, his eye darting over the man's slender form, a tinge of humour to his curious tone. Loki swallowed thickly in response to Thor's tenuous goading; far too nettled to think up a witty retort to sling back in his brother's direction.
"Enough." Loki snapped, taking a more emphatic approach, "You will join me in the training room immediately. I wish to fight you."
Thor regarded him with one of his infernal smiles, crossing his arms over his chest, with a slight calculating look to his scouring stare over Loki's face. Loki hated it, the way Thor gave him a knowing look, the glint in his blue gaze that made it clear he knew Loki was fundamentally aggravated over something - that he clearly didn't just want to fight, and was instead searching for a way to vent his exasperation.
"Tomorrow, brother, when you are sober." Thor told him, before adding amusedly under his breath, "Perhaps that bottle of wine I gave you was extra strong?"
Loki felt his teeth involuntarily grit together, a throaty growl escaping him not only at his brother's audacity, but also over the fact that Thor's playful taunts were succeeding in angering him. He shut his eyes, steeling himself, and took a breath, exhaling an audibly deep sigh to let Thor know how displeased he was.
"Fine", Loki relented with clear reluctance, "Tomorrow." He was beyond irate, but realised with pestering indignation that while he wasn't drunk, he wasn't exactly clear-headed either. He had consumed enough Asgardian wine to place a damper on his reflexes, and he knew that if he were to challenge Thor to a skirmish, he would very quickly embarrass himself - and that would not be beneficial to his still lingering discontent.
"So, what happened last night that put you in such a shrewish mood, brother?"
Loki had spent a good portion of the early morning stewing in his thoughts, and once again it had not been easy for him to fall into a restful sleep. Amelia plagued his waking mind; the mortal woman had drawn him into some strange obsession that left him unable to push her from his musings. To no avail, he had tried to find any reasonable explanation for why his brain had urged him to kiss her.
He thought he had purged those lustful notions from his mind, steadfast in his resolution not to take advantage of Amelia in such a salacious way, only for his desire to have reared back up the moment he was pressed against her. He was appalled at the way his body had reacted to her proximity; honestly, had he no control over himself?
And yet, what baffled him the most was that the situation had hardly been lewd. They'd been dancing, that was all - there was nothing titillating about it. So why the desire to tilt her chin up and capture her lips?
Loki felt the displacement of the air across his face, giving him a split second to evade one of Thor's vicious punches; his focus snapped back into place and he put some distance between himself and his brother with a few graceful steps back, dismayed to find that his fixation for Amelia had once again proven far too distracting.
Thor did not strike again immediately, granting Loki a few precious moments to gather his bearings, and Loki rolled his eyes at his brother's hesitance, realising he was still awaiting a response to the question he'd asked.
"Why must you always insist on poking your nose into my personal affairs?" Loki droned, drawing magic from within himself to conjure his razor-sharp daggers.
"Believe it or not, brother, I do care about you", Thor informed, leaning cautiously into a more defensive position.
"So you've told me. Time and time again", the corners of Loki's lips curled upwards into a subtle smirk, and he crouched slightly, as if ready to pounce at any moment, and prolonged his held stance, watching the anticipation arise in Thor's gaze.
"It's about Amelia, is it not?"
Loki jerked forward with perfect finesse and practised manoeuvres, swiping the blades with precision and fluid movements, not with the intent to kill but perhaps with the intent to maim. Thor eluded the onslaught with equal dexterity, though Loki was overjoyed to leave at least a few tender abrasions and lacerations across his brother's flesh.
The God of Thunder allowed Loki to exhaust his aggressive foray, letting the anger boil down to a simmer until the assault ceased altogether, and the two brothers faced each other, twitchy with laboured breaths.
Thor breathed a sigh, letting out a faint laugh as he lowered his arms, taking a more casual posture, and rubbed his fingers reservedly against the sore cut on the back of his hand that had appeared courtesy of the God of Mischief; his attitude signalled their fight had come to an end, but Loki growled low in his throat, clenching the daggers in his hands tightly.
"I'm not done with you yet, Thor", Loki hissed.
"We're done, Loki", Thor responded, wiping the sweat from his forehead, "You came here to work out your frustration but if you won't talk to me, then what is the point?"
Loki's eyes narrowed and he rolled the daggers uncomfortably in his grip, "What are you talking about?"
Thor smiled knowingly, "Exchanging blows can only burn off so much agitation. Unless you talk about what's bothering you, it is only going to bottle up inside, and you know how bad that is for you." His meaningful words addressed Loki directly, like it wasn't just a turn of phrase; 'you know', because Loki was so used to containing his anger, masking his emotions, and taking it all out at once when it became too much.
"Do not patronise me, brother. I am not a child", Loki seethed, spitting the last word as though it was venom in his mouth, and Thor's expression hardened.
"It is not my intent to be condescending. It's clear something is bothering you. I wish only to help", Thor's face was imploring, as if trying to communicate his honourable purpose.
Loki pursed his lips, slowly lowering his daggers while remaining vigilant in his manner, his eyes searching Thor's face for any signs of derision or mockery. He found none.
Briefly, Loki entertained the thought of confiding in his brother. Thor had experience with feelings for Midgardian women, as his romantic endeavours with Jane Foster revealed, but the situation was different; Jane and Thor were no longer on amorous terms, so could his brother really offer any sincere enlightenment on Loki's dilemma?
Loki wondered whether Thor had felt bewildered when he'd realised his initial attraction to the mortal woman - the remarkable notion that he, an almighty god, had become enticed by a human - and whether it had troubled him for a time, in the same way Loki was troubled now.
But Loki wouldn't allow his pride to sink so low as to ask his fool of a brother for advice on feelings; he couldn't help but believe there would come a time where Thor would use his instance of vulnerability against him and tease him relentlessly in the way Thor was prone to do. The expression greeting him from his brother's face may have been genuine in that moment, but the authenticity of it would not last, and Loki would not bare his feelings to the golden-haired god knowing it could eventually blow back in his face.
Thor's eyes had widened ever so slightly at Loki's extended silence and contemplation, as though he hadn't expected the God of Mischief to actually consider revealing what was bothering him, and it only made Loki all the more irked.
The daggers in Loki's hands dematerialised and he straightened up at once, turning swiftly to exit the training room. "We're done, then."
He heard Thor release a despondent sigh as he left. Not that it was a problem for Loki, he wasn't responsible for abating his brother's disappointment, just like Thor was not responsible for alleviating Loki of his endless frustrations; he did not need the God of Thunder to hold his hand through his inexplicable infatuation toward Amelia. He could figure it out for himself.
When he was scheduled to return to Amelia's apartment the following day, he made up an excuse, using his phone to send her a dismissive message, 'I won't be coming over today' so that he could allow himself more time to dwell on his accursed feelings to try and make sense of them.
He had not received a response.
Another two days passed and Loki had practically driven himself mad with all the time he had spent alone with his thoughts. Instead of acting like a coward and further avoiding the issue at hand, Loki decided to travel back to Amelia's apartment, as arranged, two days later, on Friday evening.
She did not answer the door when he knocked the first time, so he tried again.
Knock, knock, knock.
Again, there was no response. Loki frowned, wondering briefly whether he'd come on the wrong day; but no, it was Friday. He always came on a Friday.
He knocked for a third time, louder.
Still nothing.
This had never happened before. She always answered the door when he knocked. The sudden break of typicality was somewhat jarring, and immediately he searched his mind for any justification that would explain why she had not yet swung the door open and greeted him as she usually did.
It did not seem plausible that she could have forgotten; she was always so ecstatic to see him that it appeared ridiculous to assume she had overlooked his visitation, but then, if she had forgotten, why was she not now opening her door with a slew of apologies?
The door behind him creaked ajar, and Loki turned his head to find Amelia's neighbour, Ethan, regarding him with a curious, raised eyebrow.
"You lookin' for Amelia? I don't think she's home. I knocked earlier and she didn't answer", he brushed his hand through his unruly mop of hair and scratched the bridge of his pointy nose offhandedly, "Like, way earlier. This morning. She's been gone all day or somethin'."
Loki said nothing, merely held unwavering eye contact with the indecorous man until the mortal began to squirm under the scrutiny; the god had already decided that he did not hold a sliver of respect for Amelia's sleazy neighbour. From what Loki had seen and heard, the man spent far too much time trying to coax Amelia into getting a coffee with him, and Amelia had long since made her distaste for Ethan known.
Ethan opened his mouth to say something else, but his words caught in his throat and he gave a dismissive shrug before quickly shutting the door to his apartment; Loki rolled his eyes over the man's cowardly show.
He'd said Amelia wasn't home - but that didn't seem right. Sure, Amelia had voiced her desire to get out of the apartment more, however, Loki could practically feel a presence from within, and upon pressing his ear to the door, he could undeniably hear the sound of faint voices.
Loki's stomach gave an involuntary lurch at the prospect that somebody had found their way into the apartment and hurt her, but the rational side of his mind told him that was unlikely - if there had been some sort of skirmish at any point, Amelia would have yelled out, and somebody on the floor would have heard her, right?
But still, something prodded at his mind, telling him that he had reason to be concerned; he needed to know Amelia was safe.
There was no need to cause a scene by kicking the door down - that was more Thor's style - Loki simply used his magic to reach into the keyhole, a green tendril nudging experimentally against the pin tumblers until the lock sprung open with a telling click. He slipped noiselessly into the room, shutting the door as quietly as he could behind him, before turning his attention down the short corridor and towards the living room. Not an ounce of moonlight shone through the windows given the curtains were pulled shut and everything about the drab, stagnant atmosphere brought a twinge of dread to Loki's chest as he stepped forward.
Despite the darkness, there was a faint, pale glow filling the room, which Loki quickly found to be emanating from the television, as were the mysterious voices he had heard through the door.
The apartment felt empty, but Loki knew better.
His eyes fell to the couch across from the TV and he stepped closer, walking around it to find Amelia splayed messily across it, slightly curled in on herself with her face pressed against the cushion by the armrest. At first glance, she looked to be sleeping soundly, but upon closer inspection, Loki could clearly see her distressed expression - her eyebrows tense and drawn together, her lips curled downwards in a deep frown, and the wet redness of her cheeks all indicated that she was in a far from restful slumber.
And if that wasn't enough, the vast array of alcohol bottles spread across the coffee table holding various volumes of liquid made it clear that she had drunken herself into oblivion.
What had happened?
This was… so unlike Amelia. She obviously had an affinity for alcohol, but Loki hadn't seen her in such an enervated state since the day they first met, and even then she hadn't been utterly intoxicated. The only thing going through Loki's head was why? Something must have triggered her awful condition.
Surely this wasn't because he had left her so suddenly following his profusion of complicated feelings on Monday night, or the fact that he had excused himself from coming over on Wednesday evening - something else must have prompted her to drink till she was indisposed.
The faint voices from the television suddenly became sharp to his ears as he focused on them, realising for the first time that one of the voices belonged to Amelia herself. He looked to the screen, and deduced that he was watching an old recording of the woman and - her brother, it seemed.
Loki recognised the man from the framed picture he had seen before; Aaron Avery - neatly styled, brown hair, rimless specs, wide smile - was alive in this recording, and Amelia looked so young and happy. She was far different than the woman lying unconscious on the sofa beside him.
'I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with… B.'
The two of them were walking through a forest of green, trudging through damp grass, bundled in warm clothes and playing some silly Midgardian game, it seemed.
'B? Huh.' Aaron looked around himself, looking for something that began with the letter Amelia had chosen, and Amelia herself grinned knowingly, holding the camera at arms-length so that both of their faces were visible on the screen.
'Bark.'
'Bark?'
'Yeah, like tree bark.'
'Bark is not the answer', a tumble of giggles fell from on-screen Amelia's mouth, and Aaron shrugged, looking more than confused.
'I don't see many things beginning with B, Ammy.' Aaron responded, giving a shrug and a theatrical huff, his nickname for his younger sister rolling smoothly off his tongue.
'You're so bad at this game.'
'I never claimed to be the master at it. Go on, then. What's the answer?'
'You're giving up after one guess?'
Loki watched Aaron throw his hands up in the air in defeat, and Amelia rolled her eyes, a smile pulling at her face.
'The answer is berries, dummy.' As if to prove herself, the camera fell and revealed a bush littered with small, red berries, and Aaron sighed dramatically, a look of conceding defeat on his face as he appointed Amelia the winner.
Loki breathed a somewhat amused huff; the sibling dynamic between Amelia and Aaron seemed as though it had been far more compassionate in comparison to Loki's own relationship with his brother. Not to say that Loki didn't care about Thor - as if he would ever admit that out loud - but they had definitely shown their brotherly love in a far more… playfully violent way.
Turning his attention away from the television screen, Loki lowered his gaze to Amelia, who had continued to lay motionless and unstirring throughout the noise of the recording. He fluctuated on his choices; the thought of turning to leave the apartment as if he had never discovered her flickered briefly in his mind, but he couldn't. He could not leave her like this.
He walked around the couch and sat beside her, mindful of her legs, and shook her gently, "Amelia, wake up."
When she didn't awaken immediately, Loki repeated her name more loudly and shook her a little harder; her expression tightened and she made a noise of discomfort which quickly trailed into a groan. Groggily, she came to, blinking her eyes hard to dispel the cloud of sleep that had befallen her mind, and she lifted her head from the cushion disorientedly, revealing a damp patch where her tears had met the velvety material.
"Mm, ugh… James?" Her voice was coarse and she appeared confused, but as she looked up into his concerned eyes, the emotion quickly washed out of her face and made way for shame. She pulled herself up at once into a sitting position, curling up to hug her knees as she brushed her hand across her face, effectively hiding it from Loki. "Shit, I'm sorry- I… I fucked up."
Loki kept his expression neutral so as not to betray his apprehension over Amelia's unrefined state, and the woman nibbled on her lower lip, clearly put off by his silence.
"I didn't mean to… drink so… much", her words were slurred and the vacant, oddly timed pauses in her speech were evident of exactly how drunk she was. Exceedingly. More so than the last time Loki had been there, and after the dance they had shared, Loki couldn't have predicted that Amelia would be such a miserable inebriate.
"What happened?" Loki spoke at last, and Amelia sniffed, rubbing her sore cheeks free of the dried tear remnants.
"Nothing… happened. Not really- I just… ugh… not had a good day…" Her words were barely coherent as she pinched the bridge of nose, shutting her eyes tightly - either in pain or a lot of discomfort; after a moment she blinked her dulled eyes open and reached for the glass on the table that still contained alcohol. Before she could close her fingers around it, Loki swiped it up and moved it out of her reach.
"You've had enough, Amelia."
A soft groan left the woman's mouth, followed by a sigh, and she grumbled, "You don't know shit…"
Loki bristled fleetingly over her ill-mannered response; he didn't recall that she had ever spoken to him in such a rude way before, and the bite behind her words - weak though it was - still surprised him. But, of course, he had to remind himself that she was hammered out of her wits, and clearly troubled by something in addition.
Amelia ran a hand across her face again before lowering her gaze, blinking tiredly at the floor; the steady stench of alcohol arose from her and her overall rumpled look left her rather unsightly - but, despite that, Loki felt no revulsion like he might've felt with anybody else. He was overcome with something akin to pity.
The situation, however, made him utterly uncomfortable. Loki was not well versed in the art of comforting those in distress, especially not mortals, and it was far from his responsibility to ensure that Amelia was comforted and happy.
But he had to try. He wanted to try.
Loki felt his jaw clench as he recalled his brother's attempt to pacify his frustrations a few days prior; breathing a sigh, he reluctantly murmured the words, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Amelia said nothing for a long while, her eyes drilling into the floor while she presumably thought over the merits of revealing her problems to Loki, until at least she looked up, her eyes visibly sore from irritation and the skin around them puffy and red, and met his gaze.
She inched a little closer to him on the couch before once again taking a curled up position, hugging her knees to her chest, and spoke quietly, "Did I... do something wrong… the other day?"
Loki frowned, knowing immediately what she was referring to - his sudden departure following their shared dance. "No. You did nothing wrong", he assured her bluntly, and Amelia sniffed, her head dipping with uncertainty.
"I just thought… maybe I did something to… ah, make you uncomfortable, or-"
"You did nothing wrong", Loki repeated with conviction, "I had my reasons for leaving so suddenly, it had nothing to do with you." Okay, so that wasn't entirely true, but it certainly wasn't any fault of Amelia's; it was Loki's own thoughts that had gotten the better of him and Amelia had no control over that.
His easy lie seemed to attenuate some of Amelia's stress, for she perceivably relaxed and trusted his response, "I… I see. That's… good to know."
She inhaled and exhaled deeply, the quiver in her breath audible from the time she had spent crying, "Cause, I… thought I had done something… wrong… and I- I haven't been able to shake the thought since. Then you texted on Wednesday saying you couldn't come, so I figured… that I was right in my assumption-"
Loki gave a sigh, shaking his head, "I was feeling unwell that day", he interjected with another lie; the need to mollify Amelia's anxious thoughts was suddenly far too important to him.
Amelia gave a quiet, self-deprecating laugh, "You know how quick I am to make stupid assumptions", she paused, swallowing the thick lump in her throat before she continued, "I haven't been sleeping well this week. A couple hours a night, probably. When I worry… I lose sleep. When I lose sleep, I worry. It's an endless cycle of anxiety for me… I've had it for years."
Loki found himself fiddling with his tie, pulling it and rolling the material between the pads of his fingers; he couldn't help but feel a little bit useless in that moment, with no idea what to say or do to make Amelia feel better. All he could do was sit there and listen to her speak.
"I stared at my ceiling all night last night, just thinking about how much of a worthless mess I am", the words streamed off her tongue with ease, and Loki detested the way she spoke so deplorably of herself. She wasn't… worthless. She wasn't. He'd grown so ridiculously fond of her, and he could barely explain why, but he didn't waste his time on just anyone. Amelia's smile brightened the room, her kindness towards him resonated throughout his soul and he admired the subtle moments she would come out with intelligent statements.
"You are not worthless", he breathed, but offered no more than that. He struggled to find words that would mitigate her self-loathing; it was so much harder to articulate his thoughts of her out loud.
Amelia gave him a weak smile as her eyes grew wet, shrugging her shoulders with an almost imperceptible shake of her head, "I'm still a mess though", a mirthless laugh breezed past her lips, "...I'm sorry."
Loki's gaze narrowed in bewilderment, "Sorry for what?"
"For not telling you."
He continued to regard her with confusion, not entirely sure what she was referring to; she looked down sorrowfully, "Aren't you disappointed that I'm…" she trailed off momentarily, motioning her whole body with a wave of her hands, "...a dreary excuse for a human being?"
Loki chewed the inside of his cheek for a few moments; he was not disappointed, he certainly didn't think Amelia was dreary and he couldn't understand why she was so quick to despise herself. Finally, he found the words he hoped would bring her at least a hint of tranquility.
"Don't be absurd, darling. You're the dearest human I've ever met." It was not a lie; she was the only human he enjoyed the company of - the only human whose teasing he found endearing as opposed to pesky and bothersome like Stark's.
Amelia laughed, and Loki was relieved to detect genuine amusement as opposed to humourless disbelief in her slightly hoarse chortling.
"Absurd", she repeated, "that word, again." To Loki's surprise, she dipped down and leant against him, curling up to his side to place her head on his shoulder, and he moved his arm to rest against the back of the sofa, eyes pointedly ahead. It took effort for him not to grow tense at the contact, still not used to proximity, but he managed, swallowing tightly as Amelia's giggles continued for what seemed like an abnormally long time, until she was emitting only sniffles and sharp breaths.
When he looked down at her again, he found her cheeks were wet with newly shed tears, and her giggles had merged into restrained sobs; he reached out reflexively to brush her tears away.
"I was going to kill myself."
Loki stiffened, his hand frozen midway to her face, and despite the background noise of the television, there was a dreadful silence that seemed louder than the faint voices of Amelia's recordings.
"What?" he whispered, the stutter of his heart uncomfortable in his chest as he absorbed this new information.
"Not today", she rectified, "I meant… the day we met. I was going to kill myself."
Loki did not know what to say; Amelia's words reverberated through his mind like a gunshot and his jaw suddenly ached from the way his teeth grit together. He thought back to that day, Amelia's shabby clothes, her hunched posture, the way her hair had poked out from beneath her hoodie, untamed and uncared for, the creases of her face that suggested she hadn't smiled in a long time, and her eyes - her beautiful eyes so dulled and dented with sadness.
The first words she'd spoken to him, 'Are you here to say goodbye to someone too?' had sounded so out of place, and at the time he hadn't been able to decipher why. The pieces of that puzzle had been spread out before him, he just hadn't connected the dots; her words had implied she'd been there to say goodbye to someone, but he'd seen the dates on her brother's grave. He'd been dead for five years, so why had Amelia come to say goodbye to him that day?
Because she had not intended to return again.
It seemed embarrassingly obvious to Loki now that he thought about it, now that he actually took the time to dissect that particular meeting and find the clear discrepancy he had previously overlooked.
She'd been walking around at three o'clock in the morning because she'd given up - what did it matter if she had frozen to death in the frigid cold air, or if some revolting wretch had attacked her and left her for dead on the hard pavement? She had been in a state of mind in which she just hadn't cared anymore.
Loki's suspended hand fell slowly back to his side; his teeth grinding involuntarily, and he parted his lips to ask a question he supposed he already knew the answer to, "What changed your mind?"
Amelia sniffled, releasing a quaking sigh, and Loki could feel the moisture of her tears soaking through his suit shirt.
"You did."
Loki said nothing. Nervous laughter bubbled from Amelia's throat, involuntary tittering that interrupted her rapid breaths before another sob escaped her mouth.
"You said I was… pathetic and pitiful, and I- I heard you. Who knew that all I needed was the perspective of a stranger? I went home after that, went to bed and had the best sleep I'd had in months - my brother once told me that nothing gets solved at three o'clock in the morning, you just have to make it to sunrise and everything will seem better when you wake, and thanks to you, it did. If it wasn't for you, I'd… I'd be dead." The words tumbled out like an avalanche, impaired by her slurring and sobbing, but still clear enough to Loki's ears.
"You saved my life that night, and- and I felt like I owed you. When I- I saw you again, three weeks later, I knew I couldn't let you walk away- I had to… talk to you… oh God, I sound so fucking creepy… I'm sorry. Ignore me. I'm drunk", she weeped into his shoulder, and despite her utterance, she continued to spew largely nonsensical words against Loki's shirt.
Loki was still a little stunned by her suicidal admission and that he, whether intended or not, had convinced her to survive with just a few harsh comments muttered in the icy cold of a dark cemetery. He wondered why his uncaring remarks had brought her back from the brink of hopelessness, especially when his aim on that night had been to mock her. Was she genuinely so lonely that the attention of a terse stranger had restored an ounce of optimism within her?
"Did you truly have nobody else?" He enquired gently; the desire to unravel the loose ends of this new revelation overpowered the desire to let Amelia cry herself to sleep again.
Amelia gave a sharp exhale that could've been mistaken for a sarcastic laugh, followed by a gasp of air as her chest trembled uncontrollably in response to her tearful, frantic breaths.
"I've been alone for a long time", she whispered in a brief window of clarity, her voice breaking every so slightly, before she added with another joyless laugh, "I always wonder why nobody likes me… and then I remember that I don't even like me…" she trailed off, her cloudy eyes drooping with impending exhaustion, "Maybe that's why I don't have any friends."
Loki looked down at her, his finger curling below her chin to lift her watery gaze up; she looked beyond terrible, her face lacking colour and her eyes lacking spirit.
"Am I not your friend?" He had expected to bring a smile to her lips, but instead she crumbled further, plastering her hands over her face as her body wracked with another sob, and he almost panicked at her persistently deteriorating state.
"What about-" Loki's eyes flickered to the dresser in which a few of Amelia's framed pictures sat, of her mother and her brother, but nothing of her father, "What about your father?"
Amelia's demeanour changed so suddenly that Loki was surprised she didn't sustain whiplash; the air around them seemed to chill as she went from a crippling, twitching mess to stock still, lowering her hands to reveal a look of intense hatred in her eyes, her frantic breaths having ceased momentarily as she held her breath, seemingly enraged.
While the potency of Amelia's abrupt resentment was alarming, Loki showed no outward reaction, and watched her rhythmically clench and unclench her fists in a vain effort to curb her wrath.
"I don't have a father", she finally hissed, her frenzied breaths returning as she spoke, except this time they sounded like distraught, angry coughs, as opposed to hopeless weeping, "He always hated me - loved my brother, but hated me. I was- was the accident, never meant to be born, I- I wish I could tell you he was dead."
She'd pulled away from Loki, perhaps trying to put some distance between them both for his sake, and she reached for the cushion that was still a little damp from earlier, and shoved her face into it. She almost looked as though she was trying to smother herself, but Loki knew better - she was trying to refrain from hyperventilating.
Loki stood, and Amelia felt the pressure rise from the couch, to which she quickly removed her face from the pillow and looked up in shock, "Please- don't leave-"
"I'm not", Loki told her, crossing the room towards the kitchen, "I'm getting you a glass of water."
Amelia released what Loki assumed was a noise of gratitude, and when he returned with her drink in hand, he heard the woman enumerating a string of words that took him a moment to comprehend.
"Primrose, lotus, tulips, buttercups, daisies-" She was reciting floral species; perhaps as another method to try and control her respiration.
"Amelia", he interrupted, holding the glass out for her to take, and she did so with shaky hands, murmuring what sounded like a slurred 'thank you'.
He sat beside her again, breathing a sigh; the moist patch of material against his shoulder felt awfully uncomfortable as it began to cool, but he didn't dare voice his aversion or make a move to adjust his shirt lest Amelia burst into another round of sobs from guilt.
Amelia gulped down the water presented to her as though it were some elixir of happiness; it was possible she hadn't even drunken any water that day, so it may have even felt like an elixir of happiness as the cool liquid quenched her thirst.
"Better?" Loki asked as she finished the last few drops in the glass, and Amelia nodded her head, her hysterical breaths having ceased for the most part; she continued to wheeze shakily, her body still shaking with each drawn puff, but not to the same extreme it had previously.
"Thank you…" she whispered again, breathlessly, and laid the empty glass down on the coffee table to join the array of hopefully forgotten alcohol.
Loki was not surprised this time when she shuffled back against him, resting her head once again at his shoulder, simply allowing herself to slump instead of actively wetting his shirt; they sat for a few minutes in silence, though Loki could only assume that Amelia's thoughts were whirring frantically in her head, greeting her with anything but peacefulness. Loki's were no better, he could hardly stop thinking about how the last hour might completely change his friendship with Amelia, and whether the woman would tiptoe around this encounter as if it never happened.
"I have… ruined your shirt." Amelia garbled, and when Loki lowered his gaze to her, he found an apologetic, weak smile on her face.
"Yes." Loki confirmed, "You have. Thanks for that." He kept his tone light, because in reality, it was hardly a problem save for a little contemporary discomfort. As soon as he left the apartment, he could easily dispel the clammy patch of material without much issue.
A breathy chuckle left her mouth and it appeared she had finally regained control of her wheezing; her chest now rising and falling at a regular, rhythmic pace.
"James…" Amelia spoke, an odd undertone of playful boldness becoming audible in her voice, "Can I kiss you?"
"No." Loki's low voice was strained as he spoke, his body growing tense as his heart pulsed fiercely in the same breath; it was strange, he felt, how despite everything that had happened since he arrived, his desire for the woman had not seemed to diminish even in the slightest. She looked like a wreck, and yet, he did still want to kiss her, but he couldn't - she was drunk and vulnerable and didn't know what she was asking. To kiss her now and take what he wanted would make him lower than dirt.
"Oh."
The dispiriting cadence of resignation in her voice was enough to make even Loki feel a tad rueful.
"Ask me again when you're sober." He told her, a jesting lilt in his tone that Amelia clung to, and a smile bloomed on her face, stronger than before.
"Okay."
With that, she fell asleep on him; her fears and worries temporarily placated to allow the veil of exhaustion to finally overcome her, and Loki almost sighed with relief when her expression evened out into something akin to serenity. Once he was sure she was locked in a deep enough slumber, he rose from the couch and carried her towards her bedroom; the mental weariness in his mind parted to invite in the ever-present jab of mischief as his eyes flickered briefly to the locked door at the end of the hallway.
There was nobody to stop him now; it was time to assuage his curiosity and find out what Amelia was hiding in that mysterious room.
Notes: Hey, I hope you enjoyed this chapter that I worked EXTRA MEGA HARD ON to be twice the usual length and out on time :) I must urge you to review so that I can bask in the feedback, because that's honestly my favourite thing about writing this fic - receiving lovely reviews from my readers! I read every single review I get even if I don't reply to them all and I appreciate EVERY SINGLE ONE! So please do hit that review button ;)
