Another late night. I sat in my chair once again, rubbing my eyes in a poor attempt to push away the faint haze around my vision. My painting, Persephone holding her half eaten pomegranate, sat in front of me, half finished. I dragged the gold tipped brush down in long waves. The goddess's hair a beautiful plume of golden curls. I always liked her story. The goddess of spring, seized by the god of death, and dragged into his land of death. Persephone is revered as a goddess of life as well as death. Destruction and gain.
"A duplicitous figure, to be sure," a dark voice whispered from behind me.
My head snapped back as I gasped. My body froze in a state of shock.
Sitting on my bed, relaxed and reserved with a book in his hand, was Loki. His eyes peered up from the pages and onto me as his slender fingers closed the hardcovered book. "D'Aulaires Book of Greek Myths" in silver letters on a bed of cobalt blue.
"You can't be in here," I stated.
Loki smiled with amusement. "Yet, here I am." He gazed around the room and scoffed, "A little bland, don't you think? Not one picture of family or friends."
He has the ability to duplicate himself. He's a master of illusions. I sighed with relief.
"You're a tricky one. You're still wasting away in your cell. You've just projected yourself here to give me scare. Kind of immature for an ancient being. I know you're probably upset by how our session went today, I know you like to keep all your feelings locked inside and you're upset that someone forced their way in, but this isn't a healthy way to cope with your frustration," I said with confidence.
He quickly shattered that wall. With one quick stride Loki was on me. A mere inch of open air linger between our bodies. He looked down at me with amusement as I shook. I could feel his breath brush against my face. I could smell his leather and decadent scent. Like black coffee and mahogany.
"I'm very much here," his said.
His voice was low like a whisper but dark and harsh like bitter chocolate.
He leaned into me. I backed away as far as my chair would allow. I did my best to keep that fragile inch between us.
"Don't touch me," I commanded. I mustered every scrap of courage just to say those meager words. The fact was, I was terrified.
I could think of only one way Loki could've gotten from his cell to my room. How many guards and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were dead just so he could get to me? How did he get in here without me noticing?
"I won't." His hands were on the back of my chair. His arms stretched on both sides, locking me in place. "Besides," he said, "I wouldn't want you peaking around inside my head again. Or me, peaking around inside yours."
I shouldn't have expected anything less, but I let my guard down. Was it because I was scared? Did I truly find him so intimidating and attractive that I forgot to lock him out when we touched. There's always a possibility of my issues mingling with a subject's, but the usual subject isn't a master manipulator and magic user like Loki.
The disappoint was spelled out across my face like a children's book. He grinned again. That attractive grin. He bit his bottom lip to suppress his enjoyment, but it was clear he enjoyed watching me squirm.
"When we connected, you got to rummage around my mind and I was allowed a quick glimpse into yours. A glimpse of a tired and lonely little girl. I know for a fact that my touch was the first touch you've felt in a long long time. I also know-" his face crept closer to mine. He barely brushed against my cheek with his as his lips closed in against my ear. "-you liked it."
He pulled away and watched as my face flared scarlet red. My cheeks burned as blood rushed through my face and ears. People could be dead and I was allowing their possible murderer get me...flustered?
"Shut up and tell me how you got in here," I ordered through a shaky voice.
Loki's hands released my chair and he pulled away from me completely. The air became cold as our heat no longer mingled so closely. My chest dropped as I exhaled a long sigh of relief.
"I didn't break out, if that's what you're thinking.
"So what? S.H.I.E.L.D. just let you go?"
"I don't know how I got in here. I just popped in while you were painting and waited for you to notice me. You didn't, so I decided to speak up."
I suddenly became uncomfortable. Like when someone catches you doing something embarrassing. A rush of anxiety coursed through my body.
"How long have you been watching me? What do you mean by popped in? You just chose to pop into my room? How are you even here? You can't do that!" my voice getting louder with every new word that escaped my lips.
Loki pressed a finger to his lips, "Shhh. Calm down now. Don't go upsetting yourself for nothing."
"Excuse me?"
"To answer your first question, about ten minutes. For someone who can 'feel emotions'-or whatever-you're not observant. As for your second and third question, 'popped in' means I popped in. I remember laying on the uncomfortable bed provided for me, finally able to get some sleep, and when I opened my eyes I was sitting in yours. You didn't notice me, so I grabbed a book, and waited. Apparently, I can do that."
Loki sauntered over to my bed and plopped himself back down.
"You fell asleep and woke up here?" I asked. I rubbed my eyes, noticing the haze was still within vision.
"Exactly. I knew you'd understand eventually."
Time seemed to slow to a halt. My mind began to race as I retraced my steps. What was I doing before I was painting? My session with Loki didn't take more than half an hour. I spent the rest of the day reviewing notes on him, talking to agents, and going about my daily routine to keep me alive. Eat, exercise, shower, and rest. Then it hit me. I remembered laying down to go to bed. The first time in days where I felt like I could. The cloud of insomnia had cleared. As soon as my head hit my pillow, I was pulled into the sweet cool currents of sleep. When did I wake up to paint?
I rushed to my door and grabbed the handle. It didn't turn. I felt around the door, but it felt wrong. The cold metal door, standard in this building, was neither cold nor metal. It was flat it was a fixture of the wall. Painted on like a cartoon with a prop handle.
What's worse than being stuck in a room-alone-with Loki Laufeyson? Being stuck inside your own dream with him.
I slowly turned to him. My thoughts were clustered and frantic. He sat on my bed, perfectly comfortable with himself. Did he know? Was he even real? Was this just part of the dream?
I had to admit to myself that I found Loki attractive. He was scary and sexy all at once, like the hot villain. I was beginning to regret my childhood attraction to men like Lestat from Interview with the Vampire and Billy Loomis from Scream. It all converged as resulted in my subconscious manifesting my desires in a hyper lucid dream.
I was a bundle of nerves. I took one step closer to him and felt my legs shake like a baby deer. As I approached him, Loki stood. He surmounted me in height and stature. I had to look up at him, scraping the empty barrel for the rest of my courage.
Deep breath in. I held it there for a second before letting it slowly escape my lips. There were words that I wanted to say. They were swirling in my head. Touch me. Two simple words that could be taken in a hundred different ways. Perhaps I meant them in different ways. It should've been simple. Touch me, so I can see if this is a dream or reality. It's not an odd request given our situation. Touch me, so I can feel you because I want you. That was harder to say and it made me hesitate.
"Can I help you?" Loki looked down at me.
"Touch me," it came out like a whimper, quickly swept away by the stillness in the room.
A smirk tugged at the edge of Loki's lips. "Say that again. I didn't quiet hear you," he said.
My chest and stomach filled with the disruptive wings of butterflies. I didn't have enough courage to say it again. Even if this wasn't real. His face inched closer. He lifted his hand and lowered it close to my cheek. The air between shrank to a thin sliver of emptiness. The palm of his hand hovered there, waiting for permission.
"Just...touch me a little bit. I need to see something,"
"My eyes drifted to the floor. My chest was pounding like a drum. A frantic bird desperately trying to escape it's cage. My heart rattled as his finger tips lingered just above my face.
"As you wish," his voice purred like a sensual rattle through his throat.
I braced myself for impact. A soothing chill cupped my cheek. Like a crisp ice pack to pacify the swelling heat that throbbed through my face. Loki's ivory fingers nimbly traced the line of my jaw and stopped under my chin. With little pressure, he pushed my face up. Our eyes met. His face was calm and sharp. I couldn't sense was he was feeling. I could only make assumptions. Better yet, I wasn't sucked into the depths of his mind, which meant that I was safe. Mentally at least. Skin to skin, it felt very real.
"Do you feel anything?" Loki asked. His thumb stroked the outline of my bottom lip.
"N-n-no," I stammered.
A sharp black eyebrow perked quizzically. "No?" he questioned. His thumb brushed the outer corner of my lip and swept back up to my cheek and then my temple. He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.
"I can't feel what you feel," I admitted. It was terrifying to say. For the first time, I didn't have an advantage. I didn't have the certainty of knowing. "This must be a dream."
Loki pulled away, but remained close. His eyes scanned the room as well as me. "So this is what you dream of? Sitting in your bedroom by yourself and painting?" he asked with sarcasm lacquered over his tone.
"I'm not going to be insulted by my own subconscious," I snapped.
I took a step back. I'd never had a dream this lucid before. Seeing Loki standing there was as terrifying as it was exciting.
"Subconscious? I'm very real, Elaina," Loki insisted.
"What do you mean?" I scoffed as I sat back in my chair.
Loki looked irritated. His eyebrow stitched into a tight furrow as his lips twisted to one side. It only took a moment for me to realize. An anchor sank from my chest to my stomach. The butterflies dispersed into a delirious roar. I suddenly sank into a puddle of unease.
This was a dream. This was my dream and Loki was sitting comfortably inside of it. Not an image my mind conjured from trivial desire. When we touched, he didn't just peak through the cracks in the wall I built around my psyche. Like a snake, Loki slithered his way in. Or did I drag him here?
As the panic set it, the soft glare that framed the room became displaced. It was like watching a T.V. break into static. With an abrupt flash, bright and blinding, everything went dark.
My eyes fluttered open as the sun bathed my room in morning light.