Merely curious ch 2

Chapter 2: bargaining over breakfast

"You know… I was planning on leaving and coming back later when Jane returned. But now I think I'll stick around, I'm having far too much fun to leave." He says, pulling the knife away from my neck. I give an audible gulp. This was not going to end well.

I panic internally as he stabs the knife into the wall next to us.

"Oh what fun shall I have now? Let's see." Loki smiled, enjoying the look of horror in my eyes. He trailed a finger across my collarbone, stopping at my throat. Cold fingers encircled my neck again and began to squeeze. I gasped at the pain, struggling to breathe, my hands trying desperately to break his hold. Kicking my legs against the floor, I tried to get enough leverage to dislodge him. As I struggled he squeezed his knees together, like I was a misbehaving horse. "Do stop that, wriggling about like a worm won't help you." He paused, allowing me a brief breath.

"Then what would?" I coughed out, resigning to at least try to reason with this maniac.

"What?" He was definitely surprised by my question, letting up on my neck some more. I greedily inhaled, coughing as the air rushed back in. I had the briefest concern about the recent lack of oxygen to my brain, but I seemed to still be ok.

"I said, what would help me to get you off of me?" I repeat. I was honestly beginning to feel crushed, and I was sure his armor digging into my gut was going to leave bruises if not cause internal bleeding.

"I may let you up, if you promise not to try anything." His voice was even and cool, almost teasing.

'Like a snake' I think to myself. "I promise." I say aloud.

"Promise what?" He was definitely teasing now.

"I promise not to try anything." I grumble, this was worse than my old school bullies back home.

"That's a good mortal." Loki says, finally getting off me. Relieved, I move to stand up. Then he truly surprised me, he offered his hand to help me up. Although I noticed the look of barely concealed disgust, I accepted the hand.

"Thanks," I say, remembering my manners even if he was technically my captor and had just tried to strangle me. He ignored me, instead walking away into the kitchen.

"How are you at cooking?" He asks, watching me from the corner of his eye. Testing me? To see if I'd bolt. I would be lying to say I wasn't tempted, but there was a look in his eyes that was almost daring me to try. In the end I decided waiting for a better moment would be best. I followed him through the doorway, thinking for a moment before responding.

"Umm, decent I'd say, I don't poison myself, at least not most days." I say jokingly. Making fun of things was a coping mechanism I'd often used for stressful situations, and if this wasn't stressful then I don't know what is. He doesn't laugh, instead he gave me a sidelong look with a raised eyebrow. It wasn't too unlike the one I'd given Jane earlier that day. Except my look had been to tease a friend and his was almost like a shot of ice. I stood there, awkwardly, the silence almost suffocating.

"Well, hop to it." He took a seat at the table, crossing his arms and legs expectingly.

"Alright," I say hesitantly. "How does bacon and eggs with a cup of tea sound? Maybe a bit of toast. Nothing says hostage situation like breakfast at midnight."

Loki didn't answer, so I took that as a silent yes. I set the kettle to boil and go about getting everything else ready.

"I know I said hostage situation, but really breakfast food at midnight has always been one of my favorite things since I moved out of my parent's place." I say, just kind of rambling as I go about the kitchen. I often talked to myself, just as a soundboard to bounce ideas off. Now it was to distract myself from a possible panic attack or going into shock. Even if it kinda hurt to talk. I briefly touched my throat, wincing. Defiantly going to bruise.

"I had this roommate a few years ago, who would join me a lot and he made the best crepes I've ever had. Both the sweet and savory kind. His strawberry chocolate surprise crepes were my favorite. He'd tuck in a different fruit all the time. Peaches, bananas, blueberries, really just whatever he'd gotten while shopping that week. Scrambled, fried, or omelet? I think there's some spinach and mushrooms in the fridge if you want an omelet" I ask, looking over at him, holding up some eggs.

"Do you always babble like this?" He asked, propping himself up on one elbow, chin resting against his hand.

"Only when I'm trying not to freak out." I answer honestly. "Now omelet, fried egg, or scrambled eggs? Or I suppose I could do an egg in a basket but I've already got the toast going…"

"Whatever you're eating, just please stop blathering." He groans, rubbing a temple.

"Fine, but if I suddenly fall over then you'll have to take over." I snapped back at him. He simply raised an unamused eyebrow at that.

"Is it a habit of yours to fall over?"

"Not normally, but under certain amounts of stress, then yes. Runny or hard?"

"What?" He asks rather indignantly.

"Your fried egg? Do you prefer a runny yolk or all the way cooked? Why did I say something wrong?" I clarify, biting my lower lip a bit at the look he'd given me. What had his mind gone to? No, I didn't even want to know. "That's another thing that happens, I get words mixed up."

"Thoroughly cooked, and without the chatter." He said after deliberating a minute. I nodded and continued cooking the eggs. Not talking was difficult for me. My inner monologue went on a roller coaster of emotions. What if I messed up something and he decided to kill me? What if Jane and her mom suddenly came back and he killed all of us? What on earth did he want with Jane anyway? There was no way this was the guy she'd talked so fondly about, was there? Maybe he was and turned into some creepy stalker like in the movies? Who the heck does this guy think he is anyway? Breaking into someone's home in the middle of the night. Not to mention the whole blowing up New York thing. The Avengers had beaten him then, maybe they'd miraculously show up? Whatever happens I hope this guy gets his butt handed to him. By myself or by someone else. What really matters is making it out of this mess. If I time things right I can try to make a break for it. What should I do if I get away? Call the police, warn Jane, something! What's that smell? Oh no, the toast!

I was able to save some of the toast. Placing the least burned ones on the plate I intended for Loki. Don't upset your captor, seemed like the best course of action. I I survived this maybe I'd add it to my book, like a list for surviving these sorts of things. Rule one, try not to upset your captor.

The kettle whistled and with the eggs finished up, I plated everything and used a tray to carry it over to the table.

Setting the table was nerve wracking. I was scared he'd grab my arm and break it just to prove he could. My hand shook so much that I almost dropped everything. At one point a tea spoon slipped from my grasp only to be caught by him. I hadn't even seen him move! He set the spoon on the table, giving me a nod as if to say, "continue."

Feeling like I was one second away from having a heart attack I finished setting the table and took a seat. I hadn't felt this anxious under observation since I'd taken my driver's test. This was worse. Every move I made was carefully followed by a scrutinizing Loki.

"See, no falling over and I was able to hear myself think." He smirked at me. I simply sat there, still trying not to tick him off. He looked at the food, sniffing slightly as if trying to detect any possible poison I could've slipped in, even though he'd watched me the entire time.

"Well, ladies first." He said at last. I picked up my fork and deliberately took a large bite of eggs. After chewing and swallowing I looked at him expectantly. Loki, very properly, picked up his own fork and took a small bite, which was quickly followed by another much larger one. A small smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth, but swiftly disappeared when Loki looked back at me.

I couldn't help feeling a little relieved that he was eating the food I'd made. I took a bite of bacon and reached for the kettle. Pouring some water into my cup I plopped in a lemon and ginger teabag from a mixed assortment Jane's mom always kept on the table. I gently slid the box of teas toward's him.

"Take your pick." I say, the food helping to ease my fear a bit. He copied my movements, except selecting a teabag of chamomile.

"Thank you." He said, grinning at my look of surprise, "What?" He asked. I nervously looked back at my plate, cutting another piece of egg with my fork.

"I just didn't think a god would stoop to thanking a mortal." I said before quickly taking another bite.

"Well it's as you suggested, how did you put it, let's talk this through like civil people." He said, taking a bite of bacon.

"Ok… umm well." I poured a dollop of honey into my tea, giving it a stir as I thought, "I personally would like to survive this experience. As well as…" I took a breath to gather my thoughts, "make sure no harm comes to Jane or her mom." I waited with baited breath. Would he get upset and flip the table? Kill me instantly some way? Honestly my heart was going so crazy it might beat him to it.

"Why?"

His question surprised me.

"Why what?"

"Why do you want to protect Jane? She's the one who got you into this mess. If it hadn't been for her and her mother having left, then I would have already gotten what I was after and you'd be off doing… whatever it is you mortals do." He waved the last bit off, as if my life were as interesting as a flea's.

"She's my friend." I bristled slightly, "And I'm glad she's not here right now."

"Really?" He leveled my brief show of defiance with an ice cold glare. I thought I'd actually grown a backbone since leaving home. Maybe it was more an animalistic fear. Being scared of something bigger than you, and that could easily kill you would be understandable, right? I nervously took a sip of my tea. We'd both just about finished the food, I had just a few bites of toast left along with my tea.

"Yes…" I finally squeaked out. He chuckled a bit, seeming to enjoy the fear he elicited from me.

"Well, if you're so glad she's not here, you won't mind taking her place until she gets back." He finished his tea and abruptly stood. He firmly gripped my arm and hauled me back upstairs, my chair having clattered against the floor as I was abruptly dragged away. I was stammering a response when he opened the guest room's closet and all but threw me inside.

"What are you…"

"We'll pick this up in the morning, for tonight I don't want to hear so much as a snore from you. Got it?"

"I don't snore…" he stopped me with a finger to my lips.

"Not a sound, or I'll make it so you never speak again. Understood?"

I nodded quickly.

"Good, rest up now. We've got a big day ahead of us." And with that he closed and locked the door.

I stood there, listening as he moved around the room. I'm not sure how much time passed before I heard the bed creak and the light clicked off. He was going to sleep in here? Which meant even if I could break the door down I wouldn't be able to get past him.

Fear gave way to anger again. I silently fumed as I gathered a few things together to form a makeshift bed. Draping a coat over myself, and bunching a sweater up as a pillow. I lay down, curling up in a ball, and took stock of my situation.

I was trapped; locked in a closet by a god from Norse mythology! No light, no way to breakdown the door, no way to pick the lock. Thankfully I had a good amount of space, and it was relatively cozy. It reminded me of playing hide and seek with my siblings and cousins back home. The warm cedar smell of mothballs and leather from my granddad's favorite jacket; mixed with the flowery perfume my aunt always wore. I'd sometimes knock down a few jackets to hide under, or grab ahold of the rail and hoist myself up between the various coats and jackets. I doubted any of those old tricks would help me in my current situation.

Still, clinging on to the pleasant childhood memory I tried to sleep. Time dragged on as I waited. My mind still too panicked to shut down for sleep. I stretched an arm out as far as I could, one of my usual sleep positions. My fingers brushed something small and fuzzy… that moved. I held still a moment, praying that it was an errant dust bunny, a ball of hair, anything but a… I felt the telltale skitter of eight tiny legs going across my hand. I screamed.