We enter the coffee shop, all nine of us, and Tony confidently struts up to the warm wooden counter to place our orders. The rest of us, rosy-cheeked and chilled, cluster around the other end of the counter to wait with silent anticipation. Soon our frozen fingers close gratefully around steaming cups as we survey and judge each vacant seat. Tony and Bruce commandeer an empty table, eagerly debating the value of recent developments in science, medicine, and technology. Clint and Natasha occupy the table beside them, completely immersed in their quietly intimate conversation. Thor, Steve, and my sister, Hailey, sit in the corner to the left of the door; Hailey is dwarfed by the large armchair as she sits bright-eyed, listening intently to the fantastic tales being spun by the two delightfully animated, golden-haired superheroes. I slip into a chair at an empty table with plenty of room for daydreams and reflection and watch the graceful snowflakes flutter down like billions of tiny dancers. Then Loki, brooding and sullen, sits down opposite me. I observe his tense, broad shoulders slowly relaxing as he sips his hot chocolate. I see long, black eyelashes brush milky cheeks as thin eyelids close over intelligent, sapphire orbs. Questions I long to ask hum in my mind:
Is the world a little sweeter for the whipped cream on your lips?
A little warmer for hot chocolate in your hand?
A little brighter for the snow clouds overhead?
A little kinder for the warm knot in your middle?
Is the world a little better for your happiness?
"What?" Loki asks, the faintest hint of an arrogant and knowing smirk evident in the slight curl of his lips and small upward twitch of one eyebrow.
"Nothing, sorry." I mutter, turning back to my cup.