Sorry this chapter is a little short, but it is important! Anyway, I just want to say thank you all so much for the alerts and the reviews. I never expected this story to go so well, and I'm so thrilled it is!
I felt like Loki was, and is, a little too soft in this story so far, so I will have to "rough" him up a bit. Don't worry though, he's still just a distressed softie deep down!
All Lucy saw was light before she was struck to the ground. She felt pressure on her small body, but didn't want to move. Her small clutch was not longer in her hand, and she was pretty sure she hit her head a little too hard. Slowly, she opened her eyes.
At first, all she saw was the night sky, speckled with twinkling little stars. Her arms were outstretched, just like in her dreams.
Slowly, she turned her head.
Am I dreaming? She thought as she looked to her right. Because there, just like in every dream she had, was the man with beautiful emerald eyes, lying right beside her.
Lucy clamped her eyes shut, and gathered her muddled thoughts together. How could a man in her dreams be in real life? Better yet, how could he save her life?
When Lucy reopened her eyes, she expected to find him again, lying right beside her.
But there was no one.
Loki had realized the consequences of his actions the moment his body splayed out on the cold concrete. Meeting the mortal this way would only lead to a sense of attachment. He couldn't make another mistake. He needed to do research on this mysterious mortal, and why she had some tug on his soul.
Loki was never one for split second decisions or spontaneity. Such frivolities often led to mistakes. And mistakes were one thing Loki could not afford. No, every action from here on had to be calculated. Every decision had to be weighed for consequences. There could not be any mishaps.
Loki cringed at the mere thought of failure.
So, when the mortal woman closed her eyes, Loki quickly dissipated like the cold winter wind. He would survey the human for a while before he made distinct contact with her. Every word had to be thought out, every move predetermined.
Loki quickly moved to the shadows and watched the woman slowly sit up and glance around. Blood began to run down the side of her face from a cut on her scalp. With a simple twitch, Loki sent the truck driver to her side. He kneeled down and apologized and dialed an ambulance. Although it was an annoyance, Loki knew he had to keep this woman alive. He had an odd feeling she had something to do with his recovery. He didn't know how, but he had felt that fluttery feeling in his chest when he was close to her, just as he did when he had woke up.
Loki knew this woman would be a burden. He could tell she was clumsy and probably imprudent as she had ran out into the street without a care. Didn't she realize she was weak? With a simple snap, Loki could kill the idiotic woman. He could break every bone in her body; he could make her suffer in unimaginable ways. He smirked at the very thought of seeing her squirm and beg for mercy. He loved to see those below him struggle for power.
The woman turned her head wildly; her large, dark eyes scanned the entire city. Her small, birdish face contorted into a frown and the blood began to pour with a new found ferocity.
And with every glance, Loki swore she was looking right at him.
Where is he? Lucy thought hysterically. He was just here!
Lucy remained glued to the ground and searched for any sign of him. A scrap of clothing, a bit of blood. He must've left some kind of proof that he had been there – that he had saved Lucy just like she had once saved him.
Lucy didn't quite understand the next few hours. Lights and sirens blasted and blinded her. She was poked and prodded with needles as well as questions. She was forced to lay down on a stretcher and the paramedics asked her tons of confusing questions.
Lucy didn't know the time, and she didn't care. She didn't know what day it was, and she certainly didn't see the truck that almost killed her. The paramedics told her she was concussed, and must not sleep for hours on end. They asked her if she had any friends she could stay with, but Lucy could only think of one name: Roxie.
Surprisingly enough, Roxie wasn't drunk. In fact, she seemed to be rather coherent and sober. And for once, Roxie took Lucy home, cleaned her up, and made sure she didn't sleep for more than two hours. For the first time, Roxie was wracked with fear.
Only Roxie couldn't take away Lucy's pain.
That had been the worst night of Lucy's night. When she drifted off to sleep, she would see the face of that man. Just as he was about to talk, Roxie would shake her awake once again, try to get her to eat something, and attempt to keep Lucy awake.
It wasn't until the sun began to rise that Lucy became coherent. Lucy no longer wanted to sleep, and instead, insisted on being taken to her studio. She had business that needed attending to.
"It's four in the morning Lucy," Roxie groaned as Lucy changed into pants and a t-shirt. Lucy ignored Roxie and grabbed a jacket and scarf. She then walked to the front door, slipped on her boots, and let the apartment with only her briefcase in hand.
Loki watched her all night. He watched her toss and turn, watched her companion wake her, force sustenance down her throat, and send her back to a restless sleep. He watched his little bird cry out and yell for someone, but he did nothing.
Little bird…a suiting title, Loki thought and grinned with satisfaction. It did suit her wonderfully; she had a small, bird-like face and tiny stature. She was just as delicate as a small songbird as well.
And he would cage her like one too.
Loki watched her every move as she left the apartment. She moved quite clumsily and at an awkward gait. Her expression was grim and she looked as though she had just tangled with a fearsome beast. Loki didn't understand how a mess of a being could hold such power over him…she wasn't worthy of the effect she had on him.
She wasn't particularly attractive. She wasn't tall and lithe, and instead a bit short and squat. Her face was pleasant enough, with round, rosy cheeks dotted with light freckles over the bridge of her small, but bent nose. Her nose was a bit misshapen, but suited her birdish features. Her eyes were large and dark, like a little songbird's, and her lips were red and curved perpetually upward, even when she was in obvious distress. Her short, brown hair was tied back away from her face in a mess of knots.
She was far from being strong, and Loki noticed she looked particularly soft and weak. Her body was curvaceous, but she was not large…no, she had the subtle hint of womanly hips and bust even under the baggy layers of mortal clothing she donned but she was still very petite.
The thought of having her in his power excited Loki. He could take the chaste, little bird and make her into something truly great. A real asset to his already immense power.
She walked a good eight blocks until she approached a large, white building on the quite side of town. She unlocked the front door with a key and entered the building. Loki watched silently as a light went off on the third floor of the building.
Lucy kicked off her warm boots and removed the light jacket as well as her sunglasses. She looked at her reflection and cringed.
An ugly, blue bruise had formed right below her eye and a laceration was visible right next to her scalp. Roxie wasn't kidding when she said Lucy "looked like Hell".
Lack of sleep also had a bit to do with Lucy's dishelved appearance.
She rubbed her unbruised eye and zipped open her briefcase. Inside were dozens of paint brushes lined up in an orderly fashion, from smallest to largest. She also had immense tubes of paint, both new and used, ready to be utilized. From the briefcase, she plucked out the thinnest brush and the green, white, and blue paint. She also ripped a piece of cardboard from her growing collection as a pallet.
Slowly, she untwisted the caps and squeezed only a dot of paint on the pallet. She closed her tired, weary eyes and pictured the green, sparkling ones. Such color, such vitality in those pupils it almost made Lucy doubt she could even make such a color. But, she spent the next hour mixing and remixing, until she attained the perfect emerald green she had been wishing for.
With the smallest brush, only a few hairs on the end, she slowly drew every streak of color in the iris. Lovingly, with her small, warm hands she put every ounce of effort she had into the two gems. He may plague her dreams, but he saved her. She just knew it.
It made absolutely no sense. He was only in her mind, but she knew she saw him, knew she felt someone push her out of the way of that truck. He had been so close, she could've touched him, and she regretted she didn't seize the opportunity. She couldn't explain it, but she felt the heaviness in her chest that told her that he was real, and he was close.
She was right.
Loki watched the small woman in the studio for all ten hours she spent working. Her hands were small and soft, but they were strong from all the work she used them for. She spent the entire day in front of the large piece of canvas. Loki could not see what she was creating, but he guessed it was important to her.
So she follows the pursuits of the heart, not of the mind, Loki thought. He kept that observation in his mind and decided he would need such information for when he seduced her to follow in his path. To fortify his strength when it was needed.
It was then when Loki had a deliciously evil thought. If the poor girl could give power, could she also take it away? Yes, it must be perfectly possible to do such a wondrous thing.
He could breed her into an invincible foe. But, he needed to give her reason to never bring her power and wrath upon him. He needed to give her justification for her destruction as well. He could tell by her calm, loving demeanor that she had never done a singularly mean thing with intent for evil. She was naïve, she was ignorant.
She was perfect for the job.
Loki knew from experience, there were two ways to force dedication; fear or love. Perhaps he could manage a bit of both from the poor wretch he saw in front of him.
She was weak, she was lonely, and from what he could tell, she was imprudent. It wouldn't be difficult to gain her trust, it wouldn't be difficult to force love from her heart, and it wouldn't be difficult to knock her around until she was so scared and so in love she would never doubt him. He couldn't have picked a better idiot to trick.
Finally, the studio light flickered off, and Lucy gathered her things and left. Loki watched the girl exit the building and walk down the street. But he didn't follow her; no, he knew where to find her if necessary.
Loki turned from the window and glanced around the horribly furnished apartment he found himself in. The entire apartment was covered in a thin layer of dust anf grim as though only a ghost lived there.
Aside from the bloody cadaver on the floor. Really, he would've tossed the poor lad in a much cleaner and efficient way if he hadn't been so annoying. He felt the need to scream and yell for mercy, and bled all over the wonderfully soft fringe carpet, the only positive of the entire place. Loki checked the closest for clothes belonging to a woman or child, and when he found none, along with only a few contacts in the wretched piece of technology in his pocket, he decided to end the man's life in the way he wanted – bloody and sloppy, without a speck of blood or DNA on Loki's long, loping fingers.
Loki looked at the blue face of the poor mortal man. He had been handsome, but quite rash. Loki picked through the pockets for a bit of identification, and found the name of the weak human to be William Eccleston. Had a ring to it, Loki thought.
Loki pocketed the mortal papers and kept them in his breast pocket. He then disposed the man's body without a bit of guilt in his conscience to be found. The apartment, along with the body, was cleaned and dismantled. Then, Loki refurbished it to his personal tastes.
And then, he waited.